Mezzaluna Crag at Mount York, Sunday the 8th July 2018
It started with a moderately early morning, coffee made, plenty of food stowed away and packed into a car with five people and gear. The forecast said fine conditions, but temperatures that wouldn’t reach double digits until well into the late morning. At the time, this didn’t seem like an issue.
However, once we arrived in the Mountains we were “pleasantly” surprised.
The trip down to the crag involved a few gully scrambles and some bush-bashing, and a decent amount of backtracking before our intrepid leader Jenny decided we’d gone down the wrong gully. Re-emerging to try and find the cairn hidden among some elaborate fire pits we discovered the actual path and found it was quite wide and a pleasant stroll down, rope down steeper parts included.
Once we were down, the brisk breeze we had felt at the top of the hill turned out to be a steady, freezing gale, when we checked the weather we discovered the local temperature was 4.2 degrees, but -6.7 with wind chill. And boy, did it feel like it.
The few brave enough to lead climbs for top ropes struggled in the cold; Brendon took a fall on the titular Mezzaluna climb and bashed his knee not insignificantly, Ash finishing the lead, Jenny and Wen Jun setting up the others. However, there was significant hesitation from the rest of us mere mortals as to whether any climbing would actually take place when you can’t feel your fingers. The climbing experience was described as “throwing sausages on a wall and hoping they stick”.
However, some “bold” climbing with gloves from Stephen and the eventual appearance of the sun by around lunch time meant that climbing was more possible, but not before a few petitions for abandoning the day in favour of hot chocolate in a Blackheath café.
We wrapped up when the sun was on its way down, and everyone had climbed the four top ropes, we cleaned and packed up with the intention of hitting up the Bakehouse on Wentworth, only to discover it closed at 4 and Rene’s didn’t open until 5 (a travesty), however some self-described “loyal fans” stuck around for that sweet, sweet carby goodness.
We all parted ways and decided it was definitely one of those days in which it was decidedly more enjoyable with the benefit of hindsight and warmth in your hands.
Written by Greta Ritchard