‘Well Mr Evans I have to tell you that you have prostate cancer and it’s an aggressive form of the disease’.  I’d had a fortnight of sleepless nights after my tests wondering ’What if’, well now I knew.

Only a matter of weeks later I was under the knife and the offending gland had been removed.  A few days later the physios came to see how I was and I barely made it to the door of the ward towing my epidural.  The next day I was taken to a flight of stairs; ‘Can you go down?’.  I looked up from the landing as they stared open-mouthed ‘we only wanted you to go down one step’.  That was the end of physio.

Three months later Chris Wyatt asked if I fancied a trip to North Wales.  I should have known better, we started the weekend near Trawsfynydd speaking to the locals in Welsh, Chris with his English accent but good vocabulary me with a Welsh accent so it flowed a bit better!!  I always like to lead the first pitch of the day so it was off to Craig yr Aderyn (Bird Rock) and a 5a pitch.  ‘Not lost it all then’.  The following day was a mountain bike ride which entailed at least one tumble off the side of the track into a bog, completely wet through.  All in all a good weekend.

During one of many wet days at Dynamic Rock  a couple of years later the idea of a Classic Rock tour of the Lake District was hatched with Mick Learoyd.  The plan was that we would start at Dow Crag and do a circuit taking in all fifteen of the routes described in Ken Wilson’s iconic book.  In the end we were three, Graham Royle joined us.

At Guy Richardson’s (SWMC life member for his work in getting the grants to do up Llety Llwyd and the Barn in the early 1980s) house in the southern Lakes we mulled over the logistics and a few glasses of fine Scotch.  The following morning Guy dropped us off at Torver, we were now reliant on our legs.  Murray’s Route on Dow started the expedition and was followed by a route march via the Three Shires stone to Langdale.  Here we stayed in the Fell and Rock CC’s hut, the joy of being a member of a ‘senior club’ with fine huts spread over the Lake District – no tents or stoves to carry.

The next day was spent tramping up to Gimmer.  Sweaty shirts were spread out to dry in the sun below Bracket and Slab and off we went.  There had been some thoughts on my part that we should do the routes in the style of the photographs in Classic Rock, mainly wearing big boots.  Fortunately we disabused ourselves of this notion and climbed in rock shoes, just as well because Amen Corner would have been decidedly tricky in boots!  As we got to the top there was a thunderclap and the heavens opened, the descent gully became a torrent in minutes and we had to rescue some walkers by rigging an abseil for them.  The sweaty shirts were now wet again and not very pleasant for the return walk to the pub.  Ash Tree Slabs and C Route would have to wait.

The next day was a bit cloudy high up and we weren’t sure we’d be able to find Bowfell.  A GPS helped and we were rewarded with the superb Bowfell Buttress, marred only by the crampon scratches of the winter mountaineers.  Then it was over to Sty head and down to Wasdale and another fine FRCC hut, Brackenclose, architect designed in the 1930s with a fine view down Wastwater.

Napes Needle, the scene of the first recorded rock climb in Britain, was next on the list.  It was greasy, there was a party already on it and we’d all done it before so we did Needle Ridge.  The difficult descent over the back from this fine little route led us below a decidedly unpleasant looking Tophet Wall.  Again, we’d all done it before, so we carried on to the pub for afternoon tea!

The walk up Brown Tongue is a flog at the best of times, today it was misty and a bit windy; an odd combination surely the wind should drive the mist away? We continued to Scafell Pinnacle for Jones’s Route.  We couldn’t even see the crag and the wind blowing through the gap of Mickledore was forceful.  Cheated we headed for Scafell Pike, the highest peak in England and sheltered behind the cairn with bananas.  On the way down the weather seemed to be clearing so Mick and I headed back up.  We found the crag this time, but it was running with water.  Back to the pub for a pint and a meal.

The wind was still blowing the next morning when we set off for Black Sail Pass with the plan to traverse to the top of Pillar Rock.  This was ditched in favour of a jaunt down to the Black Sail Youth Hostel and another steep flog, albeit with lightened rucksacks, to Pillar.  The New West Climb and Rib and Slab Climb start at virtually the same point, high up on the west side of this complex set of Buttresses.  I did ask Ken a year or so later why he hadn’t contrived to put in two routes which made a logical links up the buttresses from a low point.  It turned out he hadn’t done either route and had just asked some locals for a couple of recommended routes!  The climb went well with one leader and simultaneous seconds.  Unfortunately getting off the top of the crag is a bit of a problem, the guidebook gives an overview of the crag with each gully marked with a skull and crossbones; Walker’s gully is not for the walker but is named for the Mr Walker who came to grief in it many years ago.  It was a long way around and we had booked dinner, with wine, in the Youth Hostel.  Mick, our fell runner, was dispatched to ensure we didn’t miss out on this while Graham and I carried the gear down.

After breakfast we talked to some other residents of the hostel who had cycled in on road bikes, one with fixed wheel.  They had planned to cycle over Black Sail to Wasdale but our tales of the wind and the rocky trail deterred them – as far as we know.  Then it was over Brandreth to Gillercombe Buttress, another really fine route, my diary says ‘fine day, clean polished rock, long route’.  

Now we were in Borrowdale we just had to yomp down the road to the hut (FRCC again) up to Black Crag for Troutdale Pinnacle and across to Shepherds for Little Chamonix.  Well, the yomping went on a bit longer than we might have liked and it was 8pm by the time we got to the top of Troutdale Pinnacle.  Mick, the runner, was dispatched to the pub to order meals while we the old guard followed on with the rucksacks.  The yomping with three sacks between two of us was getting a bit much so we decided that, as this would be the last day, we could forego the walking.  The first car that passed our upraised thumbs stopped and gave us a lift to the door of the pub.  Chatting to the driver we found that he was a friend of Donna and Adam, the owners of Dynamic Rock, so the wheel could be said to have come full circle from our first hatched plans.

The next day Mick ran back to Coniston while Graham and I took a double decker bus ride, front seats on the top deck, to Kendal and then went looking for Mick.  He was well into his lunch when we found him.

That’s just one trip since the big day but there have been many others since.  Was I lucky or is it a case of nil illegit carborundum?   Just get out there and keep on doing things.