Number in series 70; Year of publication 1986 - Fell and Rock ...

152 CLIMBING IN THE MIDDLE AGEStemporarily) as a Clint Eastwood lookalike cruised adjacent Slab & Groove.Then, as now, there was only one 'Ron'. In the 1950s it was immaculate RonMiller. He made it look so great I shouted up to tell him so (and an embarrassedPete told me to hush). It wasn't until my Middle Ages I managed to followRon's example. And that evening I phoned its creator from the pub to say 'Slaband Groove — out there!' Robert James Birkett let me down lightly. 'Actually,'he said, 'Len (Muscroft) and I thought it was only severe.'Bobby Files put me in my place during my early days in the Club. Weclimbed Troutdale Pinnacle and I went a bit over the top at the top, 'Heywowing' it or whatever you said in those days of Suez and the Windsor knot.'Ah, yes,' said Bobby, spectacles fogging in the rain, 'And now we go down.''OK,' I said, running rope out still on the scramble up to the descent path.Bobby reminds me of the Yorkshireman who clean-bowled Bradman, namelyBill Bowes, and climbing with such a respectable figure — man, it was good tobe alive.'Ah, no,' said Bobby, now some distance behind. 'I mean down.'And so he did. Back down every one of the 375ft we had climbed of thisclassic, its wonderful top pitch now highlighting the Club's Borrowdale guide.Then again I learned to hold fast to good values the day my world collapsedon Brown Tongue. Gunn Clark, who was soon to make the first British ascentof the Walker Spur, was psyched up to climb CB. Together with Pete Moffat,he and I were toiling upwards when I suddenly remembered something. 'Oh,hell! Oh, no!' I think I said.'Oh, hell!' I repeated. 'I said I'd bring the guidebook. Well, I forgot it.'For moments we made a tragic tableau silhouetted high above the valley in thesun's westering rays.Giving us both a kindly gap-toothed grin, Peter told us not to worry.'I think we'll see where CB goes.'The same thing could not be said of the Brackenclose roller-board. On thisfiendish piece of equipment anything could happen.To ride the roller-board you balanced gingerly on a short thick plank thatrested on a wooden roller the size of a Tesco toilet roll (unused). Then, timed bya wristwatch, you see-sawed for as long as you could maintain your equilibriumand contact with the polished wood beneath the soles of your stockinged feet.Aces like Ron Miller, Arthur Brooks, Joe Griffin and Albert Ashworth notonly kept in balance, but flicked the board around the room like a skateboard,performing a variety of tricks along the way.They made it look all so deceptively simple.On my first attempt, however, first one end of the board went down as Iapplied my weight, and the other end went up. Then the end that had gone upfell rapidly down again only to snap back up then once more down — and so onwith increasing speed — like the staccato rat-at-tat of a machine gun. At thesame time these movements grew more violent until — and looking as if a322