Rock-climbing in the English Lake District / Third Edition

by Owen Glynne Jones

a Initial Variation in the A Chimney.
b Left Branch of the B Chimney.
c Great Pitch in the C Chimney.
D Easy Gully between E and F.
E Horse and Man Rock.
F Pulpit Rock.
G Easy Grass Gully.

We bore up from Hollow Stones directly towards the A chimney, over a good deal of rough ground and an occasional snowslope. It is the longest climb of the three, and the hand-and-foot work commenced at once. A block at the bottom, some fifteen feet in height, was turned by a vertical crack on the left, with excellent holds on the side wall. An easier way is by the right, up a series of steep, wet, and mossy ledges. This block was crowned by long tufted grass, and more moss in the bed of the gully indicated clearly that we were not on a much frequented route to Scawfell Pikes. A few feet higher we noticed a grass terrace stretching across the face of the crags to the right. There proved to be several such terraces on the same buttress between us and the B chimney, and we concluded that it would be possible to climb up from one to the other and so avoid the chimneys altogether. Soon our route became steeper and careful clambering was necessary. The gully was narrow and its walls smooth, and no chance of further side-exit was open to us. Then came the first genuine pitch, in three portions of increasing severity, though the hardest is not in any way difficult or dangerous. We worked first over a small boulder, then a bigger one followed, and we were brought to a standstill at the entrance of a narrow cave. We decided in favour of the right wall, which showed good holds up near the level of the roof. It looked a bad bit to surmount, but when once the right leg of the climber had been swung on to a sloping ledge on the wall, it was only needful to edge along towards the jammed boulder and step off into the bed of the gully again. The whole pitch is about thirty feet high. Walking up the scree that now presented itself, we were rather disagreeably impressed by the appearance of the second pitch that confronted us. It was a mossy wall about ten feet high, and water streaming down it gave us but little hope of continuing the climbing beyond it with dry garments. Nevertheless the reality was not so objectionable. The wall stretched from side to side of the gully and offered many routes up. Taking a course to the right of the middle, we found small footholds beneath the moss that gave the chance of using the fingers and toes only. Clammy embracing we avoided, and our satisfaction on reaching the top was altogether disproportionate to the actual difficulty we had overcome, and will be unappreciated by those who tackle the gully in drier weather. It seems to be still better to work up the left corner.

Forty feet higher we could see the third and last pitch. The gully is now very much more open. We made a digression on the right again, and peered inquisitively down the hole at the top of the B chimney—the hole that was said to discriminate nicely between a thin man and a thick. The buttress was considerably broken about here, and offered admirable scrambling of a heterogeneous description; but we had yet one more stage in our own direct course, and returned to finish it. Several boulders had combined to form another cave, whose interior appeared to be rather complicated—judging by the number of times I knocked my head in exploring its upper regions. We tried hard to force a route up the right wall, but after twenty minutes had been wasted in futile attempts we decided to take the regulation route to the left, and leave the variation for another day that might find us there with an ice-axe. The left wall is sufficiently provided with holds to make the climb easy; but at the top there were several stones to be passed that report said were in a shaky condition. We were not troubled by them, and after passing over, a glance at the screes that remained above gave assurance that the presence or absence of a few loose stones at the head of the pitch would be quite fortuitous.

After a short halt called for photographic purposes we made for the head of the C gully, the next to the west that actually reaches the sky-line when viewed from below. It was nearly all scree at a steep angle, and we had good reason to be thankful that no exploring parties were further down. There were two or three places passed in our descent where the craggy bed of the gully jutted out through the layer of loose stones, and at such spots, though no actual climbing was necessary, the danger of one man bombarding the other with projectiles made us both proceed with an excess of caution. The one difficulty in the gully, which we were now preparing to descend, is by far the finest looking pitch on Pike’s Crag. A large boulder with square edges roofs in a cavern thirty feet high; a stream of water pouring down the gully spreads over the boulder, and forms a thin curtain of spray stretching from side to side of the cave entrance. The two walls of the gully are black and glistening, the floor of the cave is slippery, and slopes steeply down to the foot of the ghyll. The only safe way up or down the pitch is by a series of ledges in a square recess on the left, well marked in the opposite illustration.

We were ignorant of the character of the climbing here, but there was no resisting the conclusion forced upon us by a peep over the edge of the pitch, that the recess on our right offered us the only chance of descent. The ledges were tufted with thick grass that now and again threatened to give way. But on the whole we felt very safe, and when the actual corner of the recess was reached, the difficulties vanished and we had a simple traverse back towards the waterfall. The descent of six or eight feet to the foot of the fall was partially under the spray, but haste on such slippery ground was out of the question, and we moved one at a time with a solemn indifference to the damping influences around us, that might have argued a whole day’s previous exposure and the absence of a vestige of dry clothing. We had a steep slide down the snow banked up at the foot of the gully, and then picked a way across to the B chimney, the centre of the series and the most attractive.

G. P. Abraham & Sons, Photos Keswick

THE PIKE’S CRAG GULLIES

A and C may be reasonably called easy. They are not too hard for muscular novices, and are comparatively safe. But the central chimney is decidedly stiff, and should not be indiscriminately recommended with the others. It is very narrow all the way to the jammed stone at the top; it is about as difficult to get out, when half-way up, as it is to continue the direct ascent, and suitable belaying for the leader or his followers cannot be found at the hardest parts of the climb. I tried the chimney once when there was a considerable quantity of water coming down, and was compelled to give it up: it is probable that even with a second man to help me I could not have managed it.

We found our way safely to the entrance of our chimney and started up. Almost immediately we passed the branch gully on the left. It looks very formidable, and indeed its first pitch is undoubtedly hard. It consists of a two-storied cave, the first floor composed of three jammed stones, which are passed by backing up the crack and traversing outwards. The second pitch is of a simpler character, consisting of a cave that can be passed on either side. We had no designs on this variation, and were contented to throw a casual glance towards the lower obstacle as we proceeded up the rocky bed of our central chimney. Our field of view soon became very limited, for the clean-cut parallel walls on either side were scarcely five feet apart, and the average slope of the gully exceeded forty-five degrees. During the first hundred feet the work was distinctly safe and easy, but a glance backward at the point whence we had started, seemingly the first stop in the event of our falling, made us both inclined to imagine dangers in our way. The side walls in intense gloom formed a fitting frame to the narrow picture of the distant sunlit fells. The general aspect of the situation closely resembled that of the upper half of Collier’s climb on Scawfell, and of the Oblique Chimney on Gable Crag, though in each of those cases the chimney is at a considerable angle to the vertical, whereas here the fissure in the rocks is almost perpendicular. We were a little perplexed by some ice that had frozen in large rounded knobs to a thickness of eight or ten inches over a steep six feet of the gully. An axe would have summarily disposed of any icicles of doubtful security, but we had not expected any such evidences of cold and were unprovided. The ice was not absolutely continuous; here and there we could kick out levels for our feet, and to our relief the trouble was passed in a few minutes. Then came the worst bit of the ascent—the scene of my discomfiture eighteen months before. First came a vertical wall stretching across the gully, and rising twenty feet above our somewhat insecure standing. Beyond that the gully sloped evenly to the dark recesses of a cave, the jammed boulder of which almost appeared vertically above our heads. We mounted an upright block at the foot of the wall, and prospected for holds. None were visible. I peered at the sides in search of scratches, which would show whether the earlier party or parties had backed up the chimney. No! they had not availed themselves of that process. Then, with the conviction that an indirect way must exist, we examined the walls a few feet below the pitch, and at last hit upon a way of mounting higher. I was belayed by a rope passing round the upright block already referred to, and proceeded to walk along the horizontal edge of a thin crack on the right wall, leaning across to the other side of the gully for general support on the hands. I had implicit trust in the rope and the man at the other end of it, or the manœuvre would have given me agonies of apprehension. Just as the second step was being made along the crack, its thin edge broke away under my foot and I slipped a few feet down the gully, till the rope tightened and brought me to a stop. A second attempt was more successful. The edge was followed till it expanded into a respectable foothold, and then, holding myself straight, I was able to reach good ledges for the hands. It was now easy to stride across to the left wall and climb directly upwards along its crest to a platform large enough for both of us; hither my companion followed me, adopting almost the same tactics and taking but half the time. We were now virtually out of the gully, and found the sunshine pleasant after so much darkness. But the joy that might have attended our remaining efforts in working up to the head of the chimney was marred by the reflection that we had not conquered the chief difficulty; we had only avoided it. This is right and proper for snow-climbers, but distinctly unorthodox for cragsmen. Our doubts grew as we advanced, and at last I proposed to descend again and settle them finally. This suggestion was met with a very prompt approval, and ten minutes later found me at the foot of the vertical wall again. It did not look any easier, and I am not prepared to say how narrowly I missed a second failure. After leaving the upright block the scanty holds soon disappeared, and with some desperate struggling I found myself backing up the chimney with the feet thrust hard against the left wall. Both sides seemed dangerously smooth, but cautious wriggling for a distance of two or three feet brought a handhold within reach, and the top of the wall was gained. The only other ascent known to me was by a man with a singularly long reach, and in some marvellous way he managed to climb the wall without any backing up.