Rock-climbing in the English Lake District / Third Edition

by Owen Glynne Jones

G. P. Abraham & Sons, Photos Keswick

Collier’s Chimney, Moss Ghyll

(Face page 51)

It certainly was easier to work up the wall to the left. It rose at a steep angle, and was columnar in structure, with long, porphyritic slabs crowned by small levels of tufted grass. The leader would often be unable to help his followers with the rope, but the successive ledges could be so chosen that no great distance would exist between the resting-places. Such open work is often more trying for the nerves than harder chimney climbing, but it is always admirable practice when the ledges are reliable.

I had quitted the gully by this variation three years before, and wanted both on my own account and that of my friends to work out the alternative route. I started up the right wall, at first steadied by the left, but soon found myself too far out of the chimney to feel at all comfortable. Thirty feet up was a jammed stone blocking the narrow way, apparently very effectually. But we had heard of a possible wriggle behind the jammed stone, and with a reprehensible lack of daring I made a traverse to the chimney again, and began working up it with back and knee in the orthodox manner. The situation was safe enough, but the effort of lifting oneself inch by inch was supremely fatiguing, and when I discovered the hole behind the boulder to be about half my minimum sectional area I began to regret the scheme. But it was too late to return, and with a dread fear of closing up the ‘through’ route for ever, I straightened out one arm above my head and thrust it through the hole. Fortunately I had no camera sack to hold me back, a frequent source of annoyance in a tight place. Here we were all travelling light, and I had nothing to thrust through the aperture but a limp body that was at every moment lessening its rigidity. As soon as both shoulders were well in, the rest followed more easily by vigorous prisings with the elbows, which are so useful in upward thrusting. Dragging myself into a standing position on the jammed boulder, I called on the others to follow. They chose the outside course, making two little détours out and back on the vertical wall, probably the exact plan adopted by Dr. Collier in the first ascent. My position in this little ‘sentry-box’ was secure, and the rope could be manipulated with all necessary care till the three of us were gathered close together in the tiny recess. Then we had a somewhat easier scramble up the next vertical portion of the chimney, to pass some small jammed stones twenty feet higher. We used the same wall and found the footholds in it more obviously arranged for our convenience. The first climber had surely a bad time of it on this wall, seeing that it was all moss-covered, and required an immense amount of preliminary clearing before the holds could be discerned. But moss has had no chance of growing there for the last four years, and we had none to trouble us. A couple of minutes carried us from the sentry-box to the top of the next pitch. The slope of the ghyll suddenly became easier, scree led to a short and easy rock pitch, somewhat spoilt by loose stones, and then a walk to the top brought us in contact with friends and the commissariat.

The Pisgah Buttress.—In the second chapter mention was made of the small pinnacle of Pisgah that flanked the Professor’s Chimney. Viewing the crags from Mickledore, it will be seen that this pinnacle is the culminating point of the ridge between Moss Ghyll and Steep Ghyll. It is convenient to introduce here a brief account of the first ascent of this ridge directly from the ‘Tennis Court.’ Messrs. G. and A. Abraham had repeatedly assured me that their inspection from neighbouring points of view had been favourable, but it was not until April 22, 1898, when ascending Scawfell Pinnacle by the Low Man, that I examined the Pisgah ridge with the object of attacking it. The same afternoon these two friends awaited my arrival on the ‘Tennis Court.’ I came along the Mickledore towards the Pulpit Rock to enjoy a rest and the society of a party of friends, but was disappointed of both by a call from the Ledge. In ten minutes from the Mickledore I joined them, and while recovering breath, was interested to hear of their attempts to reach the Ledge by other ways than Moss Ghyll. Then, disposing the rope properly, we went to the extreme right corner and started the real business. I had a vertical crack about twelve feet high to surmount. It led to a small platform similar to the one from which we began our climb, and presented the usual difficulties—no hand or foothold. A shoulder was given me, then probably a head, then a steadying hand for my struggling feet, the left arm being thrust well into the crack and the right doing as best it could on the wall, until it could reach the grassy edge of the platform above. Once on this the prospect was pleasing, and we dubbed the spot a ‘Fives Court.’ Thence a steep chimney rose directly towards the ridge. I mounted some twenty feet and debated whether the others might safely come up and help. There seemed to be a fair chance of entering an overhanging chimney away up to my left, or of following the direct route to the ridge. The first course attracted me a yard or two along a narrow ledge, until the way was barred by an immense poised block. It trembled as I touched the horrible thing; so did my friends down below, and they besought me to play the straight game, and aim for the arête instead of aiming at them. They were perfectly just in their choice, and it is as well that their advice was followed, for we should have had a terrible time working the overhanging chimney. Ten or fifteen feet of rather careful scrambling brought me to the edge of the buttress, at a point where I could descend a little on the Steep Ghyll side and belay the others with absolute security while they mounted.

The point we had reached was on a level with the top of the Slingsby’s Chimney on the Pinnacle. Another party of climbers were operating over there, and gave us some useful information as to the work we had above us. Our rock was not altogether firm and reliable, so that the next bit of vertical ridge in front was discarded in favour of a slight détour on the left face. Belayed as he was by the others, the leader ran very little risk, and employing a succession of moderately firm, tufted ledges, he dragged himself steadily up for another twenty feet before his companions quitted their belay and joined him. Then we unroped and walked up the remaining hundred feet with no trouble whatever, astonished to find that our difficulties had been so few and so rapidly overcome. In an hour from the ‘Tennis Court’ we were swinging down the Broad Stand ledges.

Collier’s Climb.—For many years it was currently supposed that any attempt to scale the precipice between the North Climb at Mickledore and Steep Ghyll round by the Pinnacle, ranked the daring enthusiast as one quem Deus vult perdere, and, moreover, that the gods would not give him the chance to finish his undertaking. But with the advent of a greater number of experienced climbers, coming to Wastdale with recollections of the stupendous rocks in the Swiss Alps or the Austrian Dolomites, a reaction gradually set in. To many nothing seemed impossible with a party of three and an Alpine rope. But a line must be drawn somewhere to separate the possible from the impossible, and some try to draw it by their own experience. These constitute what is called the ultra-gymnastic school of climbing. Its members are generally young and irresponsible. With years will come a desire to depart this life in one piece, after the common joys are realized that life is able to offer. The quick-burning fever for wild adventure dies away with the approach of workable theories of life. Whatever the mental phenomenon may be, I am convinced that the physical is vestigial—a trace of our former savagery, a suggestion of the lively past, when the struggle for existence involved more muscle than mind.

Wherefore let live the ultra-gymnasts, if indeed they can pass through their March-madness without coming to grief; nor should we attempt to inoculate them with some harmless sport, for the result is to render the sport dangerous.