_DOE CRAG, CONISTON_
This happy hunting-ground for the rock-climber is within an hour’s
walk of Coniston. It forms part of the range of hills that includes
Wetherlam and the Old Man, but unlike these great neighbours it has
hitherto been left untouched by miners and quarry-men.
From the Old Man we may look westwards across the upper end of Goat’s
Water, and see the summit of Doe Crag almost at our level, some 900
feet above the lake. We are facing its grand precipices, and are in an
excellent position to prospect the various gullies that cut deeply into
the 500-feet wall of rock.
The first of these, as we glance from left to right, causes the
greatest impression in the sky-line, but is of the least interest to
mountaineers. It is an easy scree gully, possessing a rotten pinnacle
that was first climbed by Mr. Slingsby in 1887. The second is generally
known as the Great Gully. It is much longer, and includes a fair
amount of genuine hard work in its ascent. At a distance it appears
to have a Y shape, by reason of the two branches that diverge from a
point about half-way up. The Great Gully was first climbed in July,
1888, by Messrs. Hastings, Haskett Smith, and E. Hopkinson, its first
pitch being then taken by the ‘shallow scoop’ on the left of the great
obstacle. Nearly a year later the brothers Hopkinson effected a direct
ascent of the pitch by an ingenious utilization of the rope, to which
we shall refer subsequently.
To the immediate north of the Great Gully we see a huge buttress that
springs further down the scree towards Goat’s Water than any other
part of the crag. The lower 300 feet of this buttress exhibit a nearly
vertical gully that may escape detection altogether unless viewed in a
favourable light. In the view on the opposite page it is well marked
by the deep black shadow of the rocks on its south side. Apparently it
joins a sloping gully that leads up to the sky-line; but in reality it
finishes abruptly on the face, at a small grass platform that stretches
a hundred feet across the buttress. It is now known as the Central
Chimney, and was first climbed in April, 1897, by Mr. Godfrey Ellis and
myself. In the first edition of this book, the chimney was erroneously
identified with one of Messrs. Hopkinson’s ascents of April, 1895. The
route cannot be recommended except to experts, by reason equally of the
genuine difficulties in the chimney and of the exposed nature of the
awkward situations in it.
[Illustration:
G. P. Abraham & Sons, Photos. Keswick
DOE CRAG AND GOATSWATER
(_Face page 220_)]
The next gully to the right forms the northern boundary of the great
central buttress. It is but slightly marked at the lower end and
possesses serious difficulties in the first half. We shall call it the
Intermediate Gully. It was first climbed in April, 1895, by Messrs.
Campbell, and Edward, Albert, and J. H. Hopkinson, and described by the
most experienced of their party as the severest climb he had done in
the district. Mr. W. J. Williams and I went up it at Easter, 1898, when
making a fairly complete survey of all these splendid, but practically
unknown gullies.
The Easter Gully now needs localization. It comes next to the preceding
and is easy to identify. It has a huge cave pitch near the bottom,
then from a great hollow in the crags a vertical chimney springs up
over a hundred feet in a right-angled corner; above this the gully
divides into two branches, both of which give good climbing until we
are nearly at the summit-ridge. Careful inquiry enables me to say that
this was first climbed by Messrs. Haskett Smith and Robinson in 1886;
they avoided a considerable amount of the trouble, inevitable in a
passage of the lower half of the direct ascent, by working up the great
buttress on the right, and by traversing back into the gully when the
opportunity disclosed itself. The first passage of the gully by the
extremely difficult second pitch, and thence directly onwards, was made
on Easter Day, 1895, by Messrs. Otto Koecher and Charles Hopkinson,
who, however, circumvented the comparatively simple cave pitch at the
foot. They thought they were on entirely new ground; so did I when
on Easter Day, 1898, Mr. W. J. Williams accompanied me over the first
pitch, up a zig-zag course to left and right of the long chimney, and
then along the direct finish to the summit.
The sixth and last great gully is known as the North Gully, to see
which it is necessary to go well towards Goat’s Hause. Three huge
boulders block up the middle and form the only pitch. The gully was
formerly supposed to be Messrs. Haskett Smith and Robinson’s climb of
1886; actually it is the place where Haskett Smith was let down on a
rope, and gave tribute to the grandeur of the region by remarking on
its ‘terrific aspect.’ In 1895 a party went up what they called the
North Gully, but they encountered no difficulty during their ascent,
and it seems more likely therefore that they climbed a slighter ghyll
between the real North Gully and the Easter Gully. They traversed
into the latter above its difficult chimney. It is hard to say what
exploration has been made here. Mr. Williams and I descended the gully
in 1898, and halted there sufficiently to convince ourselves of the
feasibility of its ascent. But whether the climb has ever been taken
upwards throughout its whole length is an open question.
Climbers should visit Doe Crag more frequently. The rocks give
magnificent sport, the scenery is more than ordinarily impressive
even to the hardened cragsman, and there yet remains a great amount
of exploratory work to be done. Only the gullies have hitherto been
tackled. The buttresses are almost untouched.
THE GREAT GULLY.--The satisfactory part of this climb is that
its greatest difficulty confronts us at the outset. Once the first
pitch is accomplished we are perfectly certain that the combined
skill of the party is sufficient to insure a successful ascent of the
remainder. There is no gradual increase in the technical difficulty of
the subsequent passages, to vex the soul of the conscientious climber
with doubts as to the morality of advancing, when a critical position
might be reached where descent is dangerous and further ascent beyond
his powers. The first pitch is severe, and perhaps a little risky for
the leader, but the remaining four are easy, and the method of tackling
them obvious. This species of gully is suitable for those who tire
quickly, or whose impressions of the work before them depend on the
height they have attained. On the other hand, there are climbers who
like to feel that there is always something serious looming ahead, who
want the troubles to last them all through their climb, and rejoice
in a _bonne bouche_ at the most elevated situation. Such lingering
sweetness they can find in the Central Chimney, but not here; it is
not surprising that many men are satisfied with one visit to the Great
Gully, and never make for it a second time.
It takes us ten minutes to walk up from the lake to the entrance of the
gully. Then a few yards of scree and broken rock lead into a cavern,
below a chock-stone that offers much resistance to the direct passage
up the pitch. A massive buttress encroaches on the left, and renders
the gully almost narrow enough for both sides to be employed together;
but close inspection shows that near the top of the pitch the walls
are too far apart and the handholds too few. The climber does well to
descend a few feet and prospect the buttress itself. This exhibits
a safer route (see view on page 225). Close against the side of the
vertical left wall the buttress shows a slight fissure, that starts
from an easy grass platform and runs steeply up to a level some twelve
feet higher than the top of the chock-stone. The difficulty lies in
working up the corner, following the crack as much as possible, and
taking sufficient care that the body does not swing away from the
footholds. A stout individual is likely to feel handicapped at an
awkward little ledge half-way up from the grass platform. The fissure
can be followed straight up into the gully, but it is easier to contour
round the buttress and on to the top of the true pitch. There is
excellent belaying for an ascending party, the rope lying along the
crack and gripping well at several points. It grips just too well for
the safe belaying of the last man in a descent; he had better adopt the
dangling method and work straight over the chock-stone. This latter
direct route over the obstacle was tried once or twice before 1889, but
without success. It was left to the brothers Hopkinson to show in that
year that it offered a perfectly safe variation, though probably
most climbers will agree that it needs more muscle than is wanted
for the crack route. They clambered into the cave and thrust a rope
through the small aperture in the roof. When a sufficient quantity had
been poked up in that way, it fell over the front of the cave and was
available for climbing. But it is very severe work to swarm up a thin
rope; in this case there is slight assistance from the sides of the
gully, and the transfer of hold from the rope to the rock comes when
the arms are tired.
[Illustration:
G. P. Abraham & Sons, Photos. Keswick
THE FIRST PITCH IN DOE CRAG GREAT GULLY
(_Face page 225_)]
After this difficulty is passed, some yards of scree lead to the
second pitch. The gully is narrow, and the block is produced by two
boulders one above the other. There is no trouble in working through
the cave and on to the lower block, whence an easy pull over the upper
stone takes us again to a long line of scree of the impulsive variety.
This part of the gully is pleasant only when snow is about, when the
ankle-twisting propensities of the scree are not permitted full play.
We are near the point where the gully opens out considerably, sending
a branch up on the right. But before that we have to mount two small
pitches, the first taken straight up, the second by either right or
left wall.
The branch exit on the right has no serious difficulties, but it
abounds in loose holds that the climber may find hard to avoid. It
leads on to the great middle buttress of Doe Crag, above all its
dangerous parts, and within easy access of the summit. The direct
ascent of the gully is interesting only at the last step, where a
narrow chimney must be passed. Its right boundary is a long smooth
slab, unusually deficient in holds. There are three or four wedged
stones and the pitch is often wet, but by keeping close into the
chimney and working up the right wall the trouble may be overcome. It
is always possible, of course, to descend a little and climb out of the
gully on the right.
DOE CRAG CENTRAL CHIMNEY.--This climb is known to very few
people. Many are aware in a vague manner that there is splendid
climbing on the great buttress of Doe Crag, but only one or two
cragsmen have learnt where to go for it. So far as my own experience
is concerned it was almost a matter of accident that brought me soon
after Easter, 1897, to the foot of the Central Chimney. The previous
day had been spent with Messrs. George and Ashley Abraham on Lliwedd,
in the Snowdon district, and a tiresome cross-country night journey
to Coniston had not tended to put the keenest edge on my hunger for
adventure. My companion, Mr. Godfrey Ellis, and I were really intent on
ascending by the ‘intermediate gully of terrific aspect,’ down which
Mr. Haskett Smith had climbed in 1888. The Central Chimney certainly
looked terrific, more so than anything else we could find about there.
It was also reasonably intermediate, and we came to the conclusion that
our gully was found. Later investigation showed that we had made a
mistake, for Haskett Smith’s chimney is at the north end of the crags.
The Central Chimney attracted the attention of Mr. Slingsby in 1887,
but apparently ours was the first ascent. Messrs. Broadrick have been
up it since, and I have been advised by one of their party that the top
of the chief difficulty is dangerously loose.
We had heavy rücksacks to carry over to Wastdale that day, and decided
to leave them at the foot of the climb, rather than suffer the
inconvenience of dragging them up with us. We had eighty feet of rope,
and needed it all near the top.
Our work started easily. Three obvious courses led in about thirty feet
to a broad, grassy platform, from which the chimney made its proper
beginning. Each of the three ways involved scrambling; they started
a few feet to the left of the lowest part of the crags, and formed
between them a very fair presentment of a gully entrance. But a glance
upwards showed that, for some distance at least, we should have very
little of the nature of a gully to guide us. From the platform sprang
up the vertical wall that gives the central buttress its appearance
of inaccessibility, almost unrelieved for several hundred feet. Our
chimney commenced as a thin crack in the wall from the platform, only
large enough for a hand to be thrust in, and so sharp-edged that
one’s fingers were badly cut in climbing the first five yards. Then
the crack seemed to widen gradually until from below it appeared
sufficiently broad for wedging. Appearances would have been comforting
but for the curious absence of retaining wall on the right-hand side
of the crack. The left was excellent; on that side the rock stood out
from the corner and formed the finest part of the great buttress. But
the right wall was out clean away, leaving smooth slabs that were sure
to give trouble when we should find the chimney too shallow for further
progress.
I started up the thin crack, and found the strain very severe on the
arms. When it became wide enough to support a knee it was possible
to halt and prospect a little. The next ten feet up the crack were
obviously most difficult, and a glance at the north side showed that it
would have been easier to work up the right wall for twenty feet from
the platform before traversing into the crack again. Ellis suggested
that he should come up to my level by means of a slight fissure in
the right wall, and steadied by the rope that I had flung over a
small projection some six feet above his head, he managed to reach a
shaky, sloping ledge of grass, and then to manœuvre the rope for my
own passage to the same resting-place. We next worked upwards into the
chimney, and kept close in it for twenty feet or so. There were good
holds on the right until some small boulders and _débris_ formed a
little platform, over the edge of which we were able to pull ourselves.
The scenery about here was particularly impressive. Our resting-place
was scarcely big enough for both, and a glance vertically downwards
showed us the spot where we had commenced operations three quarters of
an hour previously. The black depths of Goat’s Water formed a striking
foreground to the view of Coniston Old Man across the valley, and it
almost seemed as though the tarn could be reached by a stone falling
from our tiny ledge. Up above us the crags loomed fearfully. They
overhung considerably in places, and we saw that our only course was to
follow boldly the line of our chimney till it abruptly terminated in
the face. Fortunately the weather was good, the rocks dry and warm. To
have attempted the chimney with much ice or water about would have been
foolhardiness worthy of our wildest days.
From the ledge we found the climbing splendid, keeping up the slight
rib of rock on the right that formed the nearly vertical boundary of
the chimney. The holds were just sufficiently large to give ample
support, especially when the back could rest on the opposite side of
the crack. ‘Backing up’ is usually a very constricted performance,
with but limited views of the scenery around. Here on Doe Crag it
seems as though most of the mountain is cut away excepting those parts
of obvious utility to the climber. We crawled round the rib when the
crack became too thin, and worked up several feet of slabby rock until
the appearances seemed to indicate that an actual gully was now about
to manifest itself and commence a fresh run up the wall. We therefore
traversed again to the left into a large recess, and after a little
scrambling upwards found ourselves brought to a stop by a dead wall.
The bed of our recess was loose and steeply sloping. Its sides were
slightly iced, and considerable care was needed in settling securely
down to consider the situation.
The wall was about twenty feet high and too smooth to climb. On each
side of us were huge overhanging buttresses that projected considerably
beyond the latter portion of our route. It was not manifest which of
these would offer the best way of surmounting the wall, and it might
be that neither was suitable. We could see that a traverse out of the
difficulty might be made in the northern direction, but it was very
exposed and it led too far away from our chimney.
Ellis braced himself firmly at the highest corner of the recess, and
manipulated the rope with special care. I started working up between
the two buttresses in a manner that recalled to us both the well-known
picture of the Funffingerspitze chimney in Sanger-Davies’ book. When
some twelve feet above him, it seemed safe to quit the left-hand
side altogether, and a stride effected the change of style. But the
return was now almost impossible, and in the anxious five minutes that
followed I had time to repent the sudden resolve. The top of the wall
was within reach, but it was fringed with loose grass tufts that
scarcely seemed secure enough to offer purchase in the upward heave
that I wanted to give myself. However, the time spent in hesitation was
sheer waste, for at the end the pull-up was perfectly safe and easy,
and a little wriggling over rock and steep grass brought me to a long
terrace, that naturally suggested a halt for the second man’s advance.
In good time his head appeared above the grass tufts that formed the
limit of my foreground, and a few seconds later he was sitting at my
side and speculating as to the length of the difficult piece. The
whole climb so far had been veritably one single pitch; we had had no
interval of comparative ease, and were now eager to find some temporary
freedom.
That we found in perambulating our terrace. It was about a yard wide
and fifty feet long, and gave evidence that our gully as such had
practically terminated. We found it rather awkward clambering up the
wall some thirty feet to another similar terrace. This stretched
horizontally from the large ravine that now disclosed itself on our
right, and across the face of the mountain towards the Great Gully.
The former, we could see, involved some pretty climbing a hundred feet
below us. At our level it was merely a scree-walk finishing at the
highest part of Doe Crag.
Our route lay up the rocks above the terrace. Two narrow clefts offered
choice. We took the one to the right, about fifteen feet long and
sufficiently tough to make us remember the place. Then followed easy
hand-and-foot work till we could distinguish the branch exit of the
Great Gully. Down this we carefully picked our way, and then returned
to gather up our belongings and make tracks for distant Wastdale. The
round had taken three hours.
THE INTERMEDIATE GULLY.--We had a glorious afternoon for this
climb. The previous night had brought us from town to Coniston, and
we meant to give ourselves an easy day. But fearing that the weather
might change we were tempted to seize the opportunity and start earnest
business at once. Identifying the gully as the first to the right of
the longest buttress of the crags, we entered it and began scrambling
immediately. After five minutes of ‘staircase’ work, using both sides
of the gully, we came to a point where the left wall overhung a little
and the gully closed in. A flank movement was then effected on the
right, over steep rocks and unreliable grass ledges, returning by a
narrow traverse into the gully at a point forty feet higher. The second
man came straight up, finding two pitches confronting him, both of
which he thought we could have taken directly if time had allowed us
to risk an attempt. We kept in the ghyll for the next two pitches,
both of them fairly simple. A fine flat stone at the top of the second
offered a good standpoint for the inspection of the overhanging wall
that now faced us. The gully had shrunk again into the merest crack in
the wall. My friend called it the extreme pitch of refinement. On our
left a smooth right-angled corner that probably thought itself a branch
gully led up to the ridge separating us from the Central Chimney. Again
it seemed desirable to take to the right by a course that was at any
rate feasible, although it took us away from our direct line of ascent.
After fifteen feet of traverse the buttress looked accessible, but
recollecting the poor holds that we had encountered in a corresponding
situation lower down, we went further away still, descending slightly
to a level platform where the leader could be belayed during his direct
ascent of the wall. Fortunately the rocks were quite dry, as otherwise
the work that followed would have been risky. At first the handholds
were unsafe, but in ten feet our industrious cleaning away of the grass
and earth disclosed an excellent cleft in the wall, safe and sound.
Thence the way was pleasanter, swinging upwards towards the left again
by immovable rockholds. We had several yards of a narrow ledge tilted
upwards at 30° before entering our gully again, and arrived in it just
below a little pitch of the type that tries the elbow.
Great caution was now needed. Not that the climbing was difficult or
dangerous, but the gully had dwindled into little more than a slight
indentation in a vertical wall, and each man had to move with the
utmost deliberation. Holds were numerous, generally better on the left
wall, but they were all rather wet. Soon we were engaged in a violent
struggle with a small angular jammed block that barred our way. It
seemed loose at first, but we proved its stability that afternoon by
many minutes’ hauling and wrenching from below and above. The chief
difficulty was to get the shoulders firmly fixed between the sides
of the cleft above the jammed stone; with only the block to hold
and no rest for the feet this manœuvre was very awkward to perform.
Above this a few steps led to a narrow cave, which we climbed by its
right edge and found to be a trying piece of arm work. Here the gully
expanded into a large scree-bedded ravine with only two moderately easy
obstacles between us and the top of the crag. To our left we could see
the ledge that marks the end of the Central Chimney. Our own gully,
looking backwards, seemed to be a vertical plunge straight down to the
bottom, and as usual we caught ourselves wondering whether anything
else could be called difficult after this.
We reached the summit in two hours from the start, and then skirting
the lower edge of the crags from Goat’s Hause, we made note of each
gully as we passed its foot. An easy scree shoot, followed by a
buttress set back at a gentle angle, but with splendid practice on it;
the North Gully with its awe-inspiring middle pitch like the great
obstacle in Moss Ghyll; a branch gully leading into the North Gully; a
second branch, looking rather interesting but lacking definition higher
up; the Easter Gully with its double centre portion; the Intermediate
Gully; the Central Chimney; and the Great Gully.
THE EASTER GULLY.--The same party came two days later to
examine this climb. The weather was very unsettled, and we were forced
to the conclusion that the main central chimney was too wet to be
approachable. The scrambling was easy up to the cave; then we worked up
the vertical left wall by diminutive ledges till the level of the cave
stone was ours, whereupon an awkward bit of traverse brought us safely
out of the difficulty. We were in the great hollow, and were astonished
to find that in addition to the main chimneys on the right and left
centre, there were splendid branch gullies up to the ridges on either
side.
I started up the left central chimney. It was dry, but its holds were
fragile. In forty feet it divided into two parallel branches; that on
the left was overhanging, and held a bunch of long splinters of rock
forming a dangerous _chevaux-de-frise_, ready to fall at the slightest
notice. So we left it alone, and looked to the right branch. For twenty
feet it went very well, and there, where one man might safely wedge
himself, it became practically impossible to mount any higher. My
companion, therefore, came up while I worked out on the open face to
the right. Without much trouble a small platform one foot square was
reached, from which we proposed to mount the buttress that separated
us from the right central chimney. I hesitated a long while before
venturing on it; the place was assuredly difficult, we were not certain
whether the upper portion would be feasible, and the strong wind,
swirling mist, and intermittent rain sapped our courage and strength
the more we deliberated.
The stiff work began with a scramble up into a grassy corner, fifteen
feet above my platform. It was too small to enter, but from it sprang
a narrow cleft to the right, very much like the well-known ‘stomach
traverse’ on the Pillar Rock, but considerably harder to pass, and
without an easy walk out at the further end. At its highest point the
best course seemed to be up a vertical crack in the wall, and a stiff
scramble here of ten feet brought me out on the head of the buttress.
Here there was a chance of walking over to the right central chimney
and finishing by the thirty feet or so that remained of its special
difficulty. But that portion was naturally as wet as the lower part
that we had purposely avoided, and we chose to cross the chimney and
climb up its right wall.