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August 2002 Other Articles
HIGHEST CAMPSITE IN ENGLAND? - Lee Wood
Karen and I prove yet again to be a great match when it comes to epics;
I, with unquenched enthusiasm to prove that I'm not aging and Karen
with her blind faith in my target setting (and navigation).
As part of our train-in to 'Haute Route Pyrenees' we set out on a
little training exercise last wkd. HRP seems to average 16km/day,
with 1300m ascent /day also (one day has 2600m !), so it seemed
fitting to look for something similarly challenging. Where else but
the great Wasdale 'horse-shoe' range!
Of course, I dismissed the fact that we weren't trained in to
carrying loaded back-packs (the running must help), or even to the
fact that we started 3+1/2 hrs late (these summer days are long eh?).
So we set out with optimism at 15:30 Sat nr the foot of Wastwater.
Illgill head was a pleasant grassy feature with splendid views, crisp
until the curtains of rain swept in from the North. The descent from
there is steep, but speculation on the bygone history of Burnmoor
Tarn and its Lodge is a good distraction. No, reality never strikes on
the 1st climb of the day, but the SW flank of Scafell checked our
pace and enthusiasm, especially as the rain swept in again. We
discussed retreat, and advanced ...
Arriving at the summit at about 8pm obviously wasn't ideal, but less
so in driving rain, poor visibility, and uncertainty that it was
actually the summit ... but I reasoned that we only had to do that
little scramble down into Mickledore to get out of the weather. Half
an hour of groping in the mist and peering into voids past the great
cliffs and pinnacles of the northern cliffs left me confused, with
Karen cold and fed-up. The inevitable conclusion slowly settled on us,
get pitched before darkness over-took.
As it happens, there is a small lawn on top of Scafell; it stands at
the interesction of the E-W paths, on a shallow saddle. Manicured by
occasional sheep, and with a good depth of soil, the pegs sank in to
the hilt. We did experience some uncertainy about orientation though
as the wind rotored in from several directions.
Soon warm and dry, we were munching Old Trafford mange-toute with
pumpernickel, and it didn't seem so bad to be up there, except for
those gusts of wind which shook and strained the Saunders 'Fell-trek'
alarmingly. That might just have been the reason I still hadn't slept
come 1am. At that time, Karen's bladder forced her out, and her report
that all anchorages were secure finally allowed fatigue to win the
battle.
We both stirred, coincident with the more violent gusts, until
daylight and good visibility encouraged us to emerge. The tent was
sound and security proved, an un-expected benefit of our folly. Karen
however, was not so resilient, and announced that we should both return
by the shortest possible route! Discussion and bargaining followed; the
outcome fixed at half of yesterday's ascent.
The next two hours were easily absorbed in the scramble down Broad
Stand. Big packs don't help, but Karen is no climber and needed some
coaxing. This culminated with combined tactics at the bad step, which
seemed exciting enough for me alone. We relaxed at last in
Mickledore, reflecting on yesteray's bad luck which had prevented us
undertaking that descent the previous night in poor conditions. I
have since learned that we should have substituted the 'Foxes Tarn'
traverse under the Eastern crags.
The Sunday passed less eventfully, with sunny skies and lighter wind; a
cooked pasta lunch was made comfortable by the stone wall cross at
Esk Hause. However, we did not achieve our target of 2000' ascent;
the slopes of Great Gable appeared too daunting. For the future
though, I think Karen might be all too ready to swap even them for
the boulder screes on the E side of Wastwater. Not a path as we know
it!
Which just leaves us to speculate on the HRP; Saturday's ascent with
Sunday's distance, hard-going. We'll be weighing every additional
item soon and purchasing some trekking poles. Sorbothane insoles might
solve my foot-soreness, but what will endow me with the good sense
necessary to match route with combined abilities, and perform effective
navigation?!
PINNACLE RIDGE, CUILLIN - Roger Dyke
We started from the MR Hut near the Slig, walked across three miles
of moor, went up to the top of Sgurr nan Gillean - a modest 3167ft -
via its Pinnacle Ridge for a late lunch, came down the West Ridge and
walked back to the car. It may have been a casual trip up the hill
for Jim Gregson and Sandy, but it was more of an expedition for Midge
and I. The Scrambles guide describes the trip as "one of the best
rock climbing courses in Britain", and it certainly was a grand day
out.
Midge had already sampled Jim's Cuillinary expertise earlier in the
week with a swift crossing of the Main Ridge into Coruisk to start
the Dubhs Ridge from near sea level - a 12 hour trip that left her?.
shall we say tired? - so she warned me we needed to go light and with
lots of water. We did - six slings, four nuts on tape, a rope,
belay devices, a figure 8 apiece, harnesses and prussic loops. No
helmets, no rock boots, no waterprooofs, barely enough food, but a
litre and more of water each.
Jim was very kind to us and set a pace across the moor that we could
just maintain, and stopped for breaks before we started to flag. In a
small lochan, he pointed out the Bogbean plant, menyanthes
trifoliata. The village green in Goostrey [where I live] is known as
The Bogbean, but I had never seen the plant before and was beginning
to think it was all a myth.
Our second break was at the start of the scrambling, and we geared up
- immediately feeling guilty about our nominal packs as Jim rigged a
full rack around his waist, then produced a heavy camera.
Easy scrambling at the start, but soon getting steeper. Jim seemed
to have a magic navigational device built in, picking the easiest way
through what to me was a jumble of broken rock. Thanks no doubt to
the World Cup, we had the Ridge to ourselves. The top of the first
pinnacle arrived quickly - impressive views all round - and the
temperature dropped. Despite the exertion, I was soon wearing all I
had brought with me.
From one of the pinnacles, the only way on up is by abseil [?] from a
colorful collection of tat. I had recently been trying to get the
hand of abbing with a French Prussic below the abb device. At Earl
Sterndale, using it with an ATC had been hopeless: there was far to
much friction, and I had to push the rope through the system. Here,
I used the FP below a Figure 8 and it all worked superbly. What with
this safety device, and the comforting "we've done this a thousand
times before - just follow our drill" from Sandy and Jim, I abbed
without feeling frightened for the first time in my life.
Breakthrough!
Coiling [my 15 year old] rope at the bottom, Jim said "This rope has
flats in it" "Don't worry" I was able to reassure him "it's only the
core that's gone. The sheath is still good."
We now roped up, in two pairs. Jim and Sandy showed us how to carry
the spare roped bundled in a sack instead of hung around us in coils.
This worked very well, especially as all our spare went into Midge's
sack. We set off along a metre wide terrace - with a gap in it. Jim
and Sandy went first, and Sandy left for us the gear that Jim has
slotted in to protect the gap. Real alpine stuff this! In very
impressive surroundings. It wouldn't have been difficult to be
scared, but on balance it seemed better not to be.
After the terrace, up some steeper stuff, moving together. Aren't
there supposed to be spikes the leader can drop slings over, that the
second collects in passing? The crew that built this hill hadn't
installed them. For much of the time it was difficult to see what
one could do if the other slipped, except curse and follow. But we
didn't slip. On a long narrow sloping ledge with the big gap in it,
over a particularly unpleasant drop, we went one at a time and
belayed one another, but there wasn't much for the belayer to belay
to. [Hope you followed that.] I was glad now that I had
practiced this un-belayed belaying on Sheena at 3 Pebble Slab earlier
in the year. We thought in awe of John [Castick] doing all this in
snow and ice, one Hogmanay long ago. No wonder he said it was his
all-time most serious day out.
Suddenly, we were on the knife-edge ridge leading to the summit of
Sgurr nan Gillean. Debate about whether, if one of us fell off, the
other really would jump down the other side. I think I would. But
gently. Tremendous views from the summit - and just one other person
in sight. What a day!
15 minutes for put-the-gear-away, lunch and photos, then a quick
debate whether we went down the easier Tourist Route or the West
Ridge. You're right. Jim warned us that there was a tricky bit where
a gendarme had fallen off. He wasn't kidding! In retrospect, Midge
and I agreed we should have roped up again for this. Only Diff I
suppose, but on dolerite not gabbro, and over a long drop. And the
wind was gusting to about 30 knots. We must have been more scared of
appearing chicken to Jim and Sandy and to one another, than we were
of doing 1,500 ft in two bounces.
After that, down a steep wide chimney to a ledge where Midge
demonstrated she could still do the Splits, but no-one was quick
enough with a camera for proof to appear in the Newsletter.
Just clear of the ledge we met a party of four who were going up the
way we had come down, to finish their two-day traverse of the Cuillin
Ridge. They looked rough! Seriously dehydrated. We realized too late
we should have given them our remaining water. However, twenty
minutes later, they had water delivered from Heaven. I regretted not
having a waterproof, but - wait for this - the 20 year old red cotton
jacket you all know and love kept the rain out. Surprised me. I don't
remember it being waterproof.
The midges stayed away, but our Midge - we were getting tired by now
- twisted her ankle. She carried on regardless, and we were back at
the cars just ten hours after we had left them.
It was my best mountain day ever.
The Slig was we knew closed for a wedding party, so it was back to
the Memorial Hut to make our own supper: but some days are just
perfect - Martin and Zoe had anticipated our exhaustion and cooked
for us, even though they had had a long day out themselves.
Nice to have so many friends!
PS Roger's Coarse Climbing tip no 3726:-
If like me you struggle to lead VS's.... use an old guide book - they
are often only HS in the older books. And you can really romp up
modern Severes, because they are only VD.
and one from Duncan - a serious one that really works:-
Want to put a thread thro a tiny hole? Poke through the hole the wire
of a nut which is too big to go thro, and clip into that. My
supplement to it:- If you can find a slot where the swage on the wire
will JUST pull thro, so that the swage is one side and the nut the
other, that definitely slows your second down.
August Newsletter Index.
Copyright © 2002 Karabiner Mountaineering Club
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