_THE GREAT NAPES AND ITS GULLIES_
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.
[Illustration:
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.
We found two easy pitches to begin with, taking us to about the level
of the Needle summit. Then a vertical wall interposed itself directly
in our way. We scrambled in or near a slight cleft on our right,
using rather treacherous grass-covered ledges, and distributing our
weight over as many points of support as possible. That portion of
the pitch was only about three feet high, and then came a momentary
‘easy’ before another steep little bit of eight feet. The resting
place is just large enough for one man. At the top of the second piece
a ledge led round by the left past an awkward corner that seemed to
alarm our more substantial members by its narrowness, and then two
or three steep grass steps had to be taken directly upwards. There
we found a projecting knob forming a convenient saddle for each to
anchor as he manipulated the rope for the man below, a deep crack
offering itself in the right position for belaying the rope. A foot
or two higher, and we were able to traverse back into the bed of the
gully, and thence find an easy way up screes and short rock slopes to
the top. The climb along the ridge itself to the highest point of the
Napes was pleasantly varied. We could readily distinguish the points
of articulation of the chief buttresses, for the general angle was too
steep to disguise the contours. When close to the connecting ridge
between Napes and the Westmorland crags we bore down on to Hell’s Gate
screes and crossed over to the opposite rocks to hunt out the little
climb up to the Westmorland cairn. This was not so easy to find, and we
wasted much time in attempting an attack by some smooth slabs too high
up the scree. At last we found that the climb began in a small gully
some distance down, which bore upwards a little to the right till a
short pinnacle was reached. Then from the neck behind the pinnacle we
traversed across the face to the left for a few yards, before climbing
hand over hand to the summit ridge. It came as a surprise that the
ascent had such neatness; and we were all at the end willing enough
to indorse the favourable opinions expressed in the climbing book.
Be it remembered that the cairn at the top was built by the brothers
Westmorland of Penrith, not for the purpose of indicating the finish
of a climb, but to mark the coign of vantage for one of the finest
mountain views in the country. Remember also that proposition of a
well-known mountaineer that the view from a summit is much the same
whatever be the route taken to get there; and apply it by visiting
Westmorland cairn to look at the Napes, even if the expedition involves
no troublesome climbing.
[Illustration:
G. P. Abraham & Sons, Photos. Keswick
THE RIDGES OF THE GREAT NAPES
(_Face page 153_)]