Evening Ambler

Walking above the Wasburn with no particular route in mind, plodding through fresh powder snow I broke through the mists quite suddenly...
...and was surprised to note a familiar landmark.
It must be seven years since I stood alone beneath that crag, contemplating the steep crack and hand traverse that lead beneath a wide blocky roof: the line of Evening Ambler.
I seem to recall finding the crack easier than it appeared and then noting with rising dismay that I was committed to the traverse which was green and damp.
Crab like I scuttled sideways, palms sliding on damp grit, eventually stepping up and out onto the moor behind as the sun settled on a distant horizon.

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