Once above the halfway point, about 1,000 feet up the wall, the angle steepens to just beyond vertical. The comfy ledges disappear and with every upward move the void below becomes heavier and harder to ignore. Unlike the lower-angled, bottom half of Middle Cathedral Rock, there’s nowhere to hide up here. I feel naked, exposed and – as expected – anxious. It’s irritating to feel this way, especially after so many years and similar situations.

“Watch me,” says my partner as he shakes a final time before leaving the only rest on the pitch. Leaning out from the anchor I see him engage the crux sequence of the route 30 feet to my right. I feed out rope as he traverses away from the belay, hanging onto tiny edges and standing on nothing.

“Come on Alex, you got this!” I shout. He looks up, zer

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