Rock-climbing in the English Lake District / Third Edition

by Owen Glynne Jones

It has already been explained that the Great Napes rises like a huge screen out of the southern slopes of Gable. Its crest runs from north-west to south-east. It is possible to travel along the whole length of the ridge from Hell’s Gate (called Deep Gill on the Ordnance map) to the White Napes scree at Little Hell Gate, and this route, religiously followed without divergence on to either face, will be found to offer many interesting pitches. The outside face of the Napes is cut by the Needle Gully, the Eagle’s Nest Gully, and the Arrowhead Gully, taken in order from east to west.

The Needle Gully has two separate branches leading to the crest of the Napes, neither of them particularly difficult or interesting. The Eagle’s Nest Gully is in summer time little more than a scree walk. So likewise is the main Arrowhead Gully, which, however, has a branch up to the left leading to a fine-looking chimney and out on to the open face two-thirds of the way up towards the ridge. To the west of the Arrowhead Gully the Napes is much less imposing, and though small gullies cut it up considerably they are too indefinite to particularize.

G. P. Abraham & Sons, Photos Keswick

Great Gable from LingmelL

(Face page 146)

The chief arêtes on the face are, taking them in order from east to west, the Needle ridge immediately to the right of the Needle Gully; the Eagle’s Nest ridge between the Eagle’s Nest Gully and the Needle Gully; and the Arrowhead ridge between the Eagle’s Nest Gully and the Arrowhead Gully. All these arêtes offer most enjoyable climbs. The Gable Needle (or Napes Needle) is a sharp pinnacle rising vertically from the lower part of the Needle ridge. It is a climb for experts only, with steady heads. The Bear rock is a smaller pinnacle a few yards to the west of the foot of Arrowhead Gully. Its ascent is a simple problem in rock-climbing—a pull up with the arms from the notch at the back—but it is worth visiting on account of its singular aspect.

The Arrowhead Gully is almost entirely devoid of interest. It has not often been visited, for the reason that its material is loose, its one pitch is easy, and the neighbourhood is very rich in more inviting climbs. A large party went up it last April and were exceedingly unhappy so long as a single member remained in it. Our interest had been concentrated on the Eagle’s Nest ridge, and after some considerable time had been spent about the crags, we found ourselves at the foot of the Arrowhead Gully, afflicted with the unanimous desire to reach the summit of the Napes by a way that none of us had attempted before. There remained to us this gully and its branch up by the left. It soon became manifest that we should have to divide, for the place was too small to hold us, and too narrow to permit free passage of loose stones that the higher members almost immediately began to dislodge. We lunched a few feet up the left branch, and were decidedly uncomfortable during our hasty meal. The ledges that we had chosen were so uncertain and the scree below so steep that all were glad when the sandwiches were finished and preparations commenced for roping-up. My own section of the party elected to follow the branch to its abrupt ending out on the face. The others kept to the main gully, and were busy chimney-sweeping most of their time. Their one pitch was straightforward, but loose blocks abounded and required careful treatment so long as their fall might endanger the safety of any one. Over would go a boulder as soon as the last man had passed it, smashing from side to side, and we in our gully vaguely wondered, at each successive bombardment of the Arrowhead, whether it would not be fair to give the next comers the credit of trying a new climb; the old gully was rapidly altering, and the change in its ancient landmarks testifying to the influence of man as a geological agent. But in spite of their extensive quarrying operations they reached their destination before us. We found that our variation involved some good climbing, spoilt, however, by a plentiful supply of dangerous débris on all its available ledges. I was leading, and therefore safe from bombardment; but those below me were now and again peppered, and my feelings hurt by their objurgations. Those who read this book as a literary production will, no doubt, sympathise with the writer in his difficulties with so limited a vocabulary as climbing affords. That words of primary importance are few is a fact patent to all students of the “Alpine Journal.” But in moments of excitement the climber is urged to expand his limits, and to call on other sciences (notably the theological) for suitable expressions that will relieve his feelings.

We started by working up on the right to a ledge at the foot of the big pitch. Then followed a traverse across to a short chimney on the other side. This chimney was obviously a possible route, but for greater safety and in order to avoid a lengthening of the rope between the second man and myself, I worked up for a few feet and then rounded the buttress into the central portion of the gully, where a second crack started upwards. Six feet higher this crack terminated at the same level as the left-hand chimney, and some dangerously loose grass holds helped me to drag up into a small cave where moderate anchorage could be obtained. Unfortunately a block as large as my fist managed to escape past me and to attack deliberately the unlucky member of our party. He, poor man! has the reputation of never being missed by a vagrant stone, and on this occasion he was hit rather badly on the head. It was no use hurrying, but we feared a faint, and when two of us were squeezed well into the cave, the wounded man was engineered up to our level. He was a bit dazed, but on the whole seemed moderately jubilant at this latest proof of his case-hardened condition. When reassured as to his welfare we wriggled clumsily out of the narrow cave, feet foremost, and made our way easily by the left wall to the roof of the cave and the top of the pitch. The rest of the gully was little more than mere walking, and a few minutes later we joined our friends on the crest of the Napes.

The Needle Gully has rather a bad reputation. My personal experience of it has not been altogether pleasant. I tried it in January, 1893, with the enterprising classic referred to in my account of the Oblique Chimney, and found the soft snow so troublesome in its steepness and want of tenacity that we decided to leave the gully for some more auspicious occasion. The opportunity came in the following August, after an ascent of the Needle, and with it came the conviction that in dry weather the gully possesses no interest to the climber pure and simple, if such an anomaly exists, but that it should be visited by those who take pleasure in rock scenery. The Eagle’s Nest ridge is a marvellously fine sweep of clean-cut rock bounding the western wall of the gully. The jagged outline of the Needle ridge on the eastern side is scarcely inferior in grandeur.