The aim had been to return to Fontainebleau for a week and climb until my fingers bled. But between preparations for the Bridport Hat Festival, an event my South Coast family host annually, and catching up with my father from his travels in Kashmir, it seemed best to cancel France and instead make the most of the local geology.
We headed to the Peak District, my desk buddy in the office had advised some good locations and a beautiful guide book helped pinpoint my wishlists. The Peak District was a location I'd never ventured, it always seemed much more intense to leave the country and find exotic climbs. The Spring Stones were a cluster of rocks on the approach, the area around was boggy and leant to the name of Spring Stones. A few routes are earmarked as a more local set of projects and I'm itching for the weather to dry up or freeze over so I can return.
There's something philosophical about bouldering outdoors, it might just be the perfect medication for stress. Whenever I return from a hard boulder my mind is at ease and my creativity improves.