Just above us a third pitch barred the way. The gully was much wider here, and greater diversity of method was now possible. The guide counselled the direct attack of the short crack in front. The philosopher prudently suggested that time was an object and the crack a hard nut; we ought to take the easy corner on the left. The friend that completed our trio gave the casting vote in favour of overtime and ten hours’ work per day during holidays. The crack was certainly awkward. It was at first easiest to face towards the right and work up nine or ten feet. Then when the foothold was of the fanciest of orders it became desirable to effect a half-turn of the body so that the other side of the crack might be faced. Once the turn was accomplished, a fine hand-hold made the rest easy; we could pull up the corner and walk out at the top, some twenty-five feet above the foot of the pitch. Our friend was thinking evidently of his casting vote when he followed the guide; for at the turning-point a slip cast him on to the rope and gave him an extra turn that he scarcely appreciated. But the leader was safely ensconced above, and the poor fellow hastened up to assure himself that the rope really had been held tightly. The philosopher eschewed the cause of this momentary retrogression, and came quietly up the grass and rock corner well to the left of the gully.
We were now almost out on the face of the mountain. Very little remained of the gully as such. The ordinary walk away towards the right was perfectly plain. Mr. Robinson’s route upwards, described in the extract just quoted, was a little to the left, but not at all easy to locate, for the square tower of rock blocked the direct view of the climb. Straight up above us we saw a wall of about a hundred feet of apparently sheer rock, down the centre of which passed the crack or chimney that we were to take for our finish.
Loose earthy steps led to the foot of the wall, and for a moment we thought with some apprehension that the first part was going to be seriously troublesome. At a height of twenty-five feet or so some narrow splintered boulders completely filled up the crack and overhung considerably. Just below them the climbing was obviously awkward, by reason of the footholds that were not there, if the ancient Hibernianism may be tolerated, and the necessary leverage on the boulders when we were using them for all they were worth would imperil their stability and our own. But after mounting the first twelve feet with, perhaps, more case than we had anticipated, a narrow ledge showed up on the right wall for about ten feet, and we noticed with relief that at its further extremity another traverse led back to the crack in a slanting direction to a point just above the critical spot. This diversion we promptly accepted, and found it altogether satisfactory. The lower ledge was just wide enough for the feet, and handholds just good enough for the balance of the body during the transfer. At the further end it was easy scrambling to the upper ledge, which showed itself as a broad and safe path to a little niche where the crack was somewhat enlarged. The floor of the niche was formed of loose stones supported on the larger jammed blocks that had affrighted us below, and was sufficiently commodious for all the party to place themselves securely thereon. Probably the next part of the climb was the hardest. That, at any rate, was the opinion of those who had recommended the route to us, and after their kindly advice we were gratefully prepared to accept anything from them in the way of opinion. The chimney was vertical and its two walls almost holdless.
Direct progress seemed barred by three thick plates of rock wedged into the crack and projecting outwards some three or four feet. Over these we had to make our way, and if their edges proved to be unsatisfactory for the fingers to grip or the arms to clasp, then we should have to return with the ignominy of defeat. On the one hand appearances were against us; the pitch looked impossible. But on the other we knew it had been climbed once or twice before, and assuredly under no better conditions than were vouchsafed to ourselves. Far away down at the foot of the gully we noticed a couple of men who had been walking Wastdale-wards after a hard day, but were gazing up at us in some curiosity to know how we were going to tackle our problem. It would never do to go back now.
And thus, after sacrificing such time and small reflections to the reputed difficulty of the place as its admirers would have claimed of us, we turned our gaze upwards and climbed the pitch. It went off pleasantly enough. An easy clamber led to a second platform immediately below the jammed plates. A foot or two higher, and a ledge on the left could be used for the one hand, the edge of the lowest overhanging block with the other, while the left leg was swung up on to a shelf. The attitude was awkward just for the moment, but with both arms clasping the plate of rock, which was perfectly trustworthy, there could be no thought of falling for the leader, who had only to thrust himself forward into an upper recess and wriggle into safety.
Here he discovered another level platform, neatly turfed and obviously constructed as a climber’s resting place. It would have been easy to stay there and negotiate the rope for the other men below, but the next pitch was only ten feet higher up, and led to a still better corner. Therefore he went on by straightforward hand-and-foot work, and climbed the pitch by its left-hand branch. The chimney is here about eight feet wide, divided into two by a long and narrow boulder.
The right-hand branch is just possible, but the sense of insecurity at one spot almost demands help from below. On the left a deep recess is floored with splintered blocks that threaten to break away but cannot easily manage it. The boulder offered enough assistance in the way of holds, especially a sharp edge at the top, and when overcome showed itself to be the last genuine obstacle in our course. We were soon all gathered together at the little notch that marks the top of the chimney, and after adding a stone to the cairn that stands there, we marched up some thirty feet of solid buttress and broke at a plunge through the thick cornice of old snow that yet remained as a token of the hard winter that had come and gone.
The easy finish to the right of the last vertical wall passes up scree from the top of the third pitch, and takes us on to a ridge of rock above the Smuggler’s Retreat. Here it joins the Scree Gully, and we have a small piece of hand-and-foot work before it narrows, then curves away to the left, and finally ends on a ledge of broken rock close to the highest point.