The approach to the Old man curves up and round to the right, affording only a view of the summit plateau until you reach the cliff top. On first acquaintance it is intimidating, overhung at the bottom and seemingly green and more overhung further up. Ledges and rests beyond the first stance are hard to make out. The only section of the route that looked amenable in any was the final corner which was spectacular. In short I was terrified. I could see that Rog was feeling it too. It was time for a quick reality check,

“Whaddya think?”

“dunno”

Rick - Not happy

After giving up on novel ways to reach a pair of monster ring bolts with thoughts of a cheeky abseil we located the descent proper. The path is further back inland and to the right as you look at the stack, it is described as steep and muddy. This description is accurate. Tatty trainers and large packs are not recommended.

From the loose causeway joining the stack to the mainland the scale of the beast becomes apparent, it is huge. Fortunately it is also at this point that the holds and ledges also materialize. Looking up it still seemed improbable. Time to drop the bombshell:

“You’re climbing the crux”

Rog looked up, quizzical, “OK”.

The tension ebbed out of me. I knew we were both more than capable, but I was nervous and feared that my conservative approach wasn’t the right tool here. What we needed for that section was Rog’s audacity and gorilla arms. Well it sounded good in my head anyway.

The first pitch was enjoyable climbing on an easy angle, straightforward stuff up to a roomy belay ledge named the gallery. Rog followed easily, dragging a third rope, we’d fix on the second pitch to ensure safe retreat.  From this stance we were able to lean out and eyeball a small part of the crux pitch.

“Can you climb it?”