CHAPTER II

_DEEP GHYLL. THE GREAT CHIMNEY AND PROFESSOR’S CHIMNEY_

DEEP GHYLL.--This will remain for long a favourite resort of climbers, partly because the two pitches are always interesting and may be turned in so many different ways, partly because the gully gathers annually a big snow drift, which can generally be relied upon between Christmas and Easter to afford some practice in the use of the ice-axe, and partly because the rock scenery is of the finest character throughout. The ghyll has been familiar to the visitors of Scawfell for many years. It was first ascended in March, 1886, by Messrs. Geoffrey Hastings and Slingsby, and an interesting account of the expedition appeared in the ‘Alpine Journal.’ It had been descended twice before, in 1882, by Messrs. Mumm and King, with heavy snow blocking the pitches, and in 1884 by Mr. Haskett Smith. The quickest way of reaching the foot of the ghyll is to walk up Brown Tongue till within a couple of hundred feet of the level of Hollow Stones. It is here unnecessary to keep straight over towards the centre of Mickledore, for a shallow depression to the right of Brown Tongue may be traversed obliquely upwards, and the scree struck close to the well-defined edge of the lower crags of Scawfell. Thence it is best to keep close under the cliffs, following an easy gradient up to the Lord’s Rake. This is the large scree gully passing up to the right, under the main mass of Scawfell. The scree forms at the foot of the Lord’s Rake the usual fan-shaped talus, which here stretches down towards Hollow Stones. In summer it may occasionally be worth while making directly up the centre of the scree.

Just opposite the corner round which one turns into the Lord’s Rake a rather slightly marked gully starts up from the side of the rake. It becomes better defined a few yards higher, and leads directly into Steep Ghyll. Almost at the same spot a ledge is to be noticed passing round to the left of the huge wall fronting us at this corner. This is the start of the Rake’s Progress, the happy name given to the well-known terrace leading to Mickledore. We shall have further occasion to allude to this ledge, but we now pass up the Lord’s Rake till in a few feet we come to a magnificent gully on our left, recognizable under any conditions except the most snowy by the cave at its foot. A fine View of Deep Ghyll and its surroundings may be obtained by scrambling up to the low ridge that faces us as we look outwards from the cave. The ridge is somewhat broken up, and the terrible accident that caused the death of Professor Milnes Marshall at this spot must be a warning to any who wander up without thought of danger.

The orthodox route up the first pitch in Deep Ghyll is by the cave and chimney. It is the most interesting way, and probably in dry clean weather it is the easiest. When the chimney is cased with ice the route may become impossible. In that case a recess in the right wall (right, of course, when looking up at the climb) is often taken as a winter emergency exit; for although the holds are slight in summer, loose stones well bound up make it quite feasible in frosty weather.

The hardest way up the pitch is by the thin cleft between the big boulder and the left wall.

Passing up for about 150 feet we find a steep slope of rock occupying the left half of the gully. The scree in the other half leads up into a cave whose black rectangular aperture may have been observed from the Lord’s Rake ridge. The cave is formed by the ubiquitous jammed boulder, and no through route can be effected. A thin chimney cuts between the rock slope and the huge vertical left wall that rises with scarcely a break to the Low Man on the Scawfell Pinnacle. This chimney constitutes the easiest and safest route over the second pitch. On the right face an irregular ledge leads to a larger chimney (Robinson’s), which with some trouble can be followed till a level about twenty feet above the top of the cave pitch is reached. Thence a small terrace offers an easy promenade to the upper bed of the gully. A third way of taking the difficulty has been found; indeed, it is the most obvious way, though much the hardest. It is to climb the left wall of the cave entrance, and then wriggle up between the rock slope and the cave boulder.

There are many pleasant reminiscences of parties in Deep Ghyll. The hardest struggle I ever had with the first pitch was on Christmas Day, 1897. The rocks were badly glazed, and though we had no trouble in penetrating to the inmost recesses of the cave, we could find no easy way of getting higher. We were loth to try, seeing that one of our party had, with a mistaken philanthropy, loaded his rücksack with preserved fruit, prunes, and Carlsbad plums, and proceeded forthwith to dignify our primitive lunch with these unwonted luxuries. A halt called to consume a beef sandwich may be quickly terminated--and that, moreover, without a sense of sorrow, unless the beef is very bad--but those who know Carlsbad plums will realise how easily we were demoralised by their seductiveness, and how much we preferred to sit in our cave and argue on complicated topics with the plum-box open. But the owner was a man of some resolution, and heroically vowed that we should see no more of the plums till we reached a small recess at the top of Moss Ghyll, where we should ensconce ourselves after climbing the gully. So we made a start at once. The back way out of the cave promised well at first. It showed no trace of ice, but on emerging from the chimney (at the spot where the lower figure is shown in the View facing p. 12), and looking straight down to the entrance of the cave, it was found that a thin sheet of ice covered all the rocks. Generally speaking it would be better to let the rocks alone on such an occasion--in fact always, unless Carlsbad plums are at stake. Then, perhaps, the second man may be held firmly by the rope from behind while he gives the leader a shoulder. This help is of no use unless the leader can venture to trust the icy handhold above him, by which he is to swing round the awkward corner to the right. Some such scheme our party devised, after many futile attempts to fix an axe firmly as a foothold, and the leader dragged himself up the glazed surface to the deep snow above. In the ordinary state of things, be it remembered that where the climber emerges from the hole, he has first to stride round to a small ledge on the right. He can use as a take-off the rough surface of the boulder, and can reach a rigid handhold of small dimensions but good shape. Thence to the top of the pitch is easy scrambling, though care is needed.

The snow in the gully was in grand condition for kicking steps, and after the last man had been brought up the pitch in safety we marched to the upper cave and discussed the question of route over the second pitch. The direct way was ruled out of court at once, for its largest ledges are but half an inch wide, and ice on these rendered them useless. With a keen recollection of our trouble down below, we thought of the Robinson Chimney on the right, which is quitted by crossing on to a slabby rock that slopes down towards the centre of the gully. With ice on this an attempt to force the way up would more likely find us shooting over to the foot of the cave. Such a finish to our little day would no doubt exactly coincide with the anticipations of our more sanguine relatives and friends, but for the moment we had to consider each other’s feelings and I suggested the easy way up. There was a smiling unanimity of agreement in the party which pleased me far, very far more than a hundred strictly impossible ascents. We descended the gully again to the foot of the rock slope, and rounded into the little chimney. Things went very well for a few feet. But as we rose the ice became more troublesome, until it was necessary to chip it away from each diminutive ledge, and to proceed upwards with the utmost caution. The first part finished with a little snow patch twenty feet above the top of the cave boulder and the bed of the ghyll. Some years before, when first I visited Deep Ghyll, we had found it impossible to climb directly upwards from this point, and a man was let down by the rope into the ghyll. He cut steps up until he had obtained a higher level than the others waiting, and then induced them to traverse out a bit and jump into the snow below. The process was possible only with a long rope. Here we could all rest and contemplate the rock slab opposite which finishes the Robinson Chimney. Forty or fifty feet higher we could see, well marked out by the snow, the upper traverse that enables a careful walker to pass up Deep Ghyll without any hand-and-foot work. It is readily accessible from the Lord’s Rake, a few feet higher than the ordinary entrance to Deep Ghyll, and leads at an easy angle to a point in the main gully some hundred feet above the second pitch.

Looking up at the left wall of the Ghyll we could see that our slender chimney was but the beginning of a long crack that cut obliquely into the wall, and curled upwards in a fine sweep of eighty feet towards the summit of the Low Man. The curtain of rock that closed in the crack on its right hand made our next few yards rather troublesome, for it encroached on our ledge and rendered the work too open. Facework is always more trying than chimney climbing, especially when ice is about. But the leader’s recollection of the ease with which this part could be overcome in summer time divested it of all its fancied terrors and perhaps of some of its real dangers, and he had therefore a better time of it than his companions, whose extremities were somewhat benumbed by their patient waiting in awkward places, and whose activities were confined to their vivid imaginations. All actual danger was over when a horizontal ledge was reached well above the centre-level of the gully, which we followed with ease to the broken rocks that almost form a third pitch for Deep Ghyll.

Here the pleasantest way of finishing the day was to cut steps in the snow up the central gully, the angle gradually steepening from 35° to 55° at the top. That way we therefore took, and were soon enjoying the plums. But a rise of a few feet will show the Professor’s Chimney immediately to the left, cutting deeply into the rock between the Scawfell Pinnacle on the left and Pisgah on the right, and terminating at a fine-looking notch, ‘The Jordan,’ in the sky-line. Exactly opposite, on the right-hand side of the ghyll, is the Great Chimney, a black and formidable square-walled recess crowned by a jammed boulder. This was for a long time regarded as impossible and scarcely ever attacked, but at last it yielded to the combined ingenuity of Messrs. Blake and Southall, and has since shown itself to be very amenable when approached with due precaution.

_First pitch, New route._--The Christmas Day of 1896 was very windy and cold. Our party had fought continually against the weather all the way to Deep Ghyll, and inasmuch as we had only the previous day arrived at Wastdale our limbs were scarcely fit for such a desperate grind. I had the pleasurable responsibility of guiding a lady, Mrs. H., who had been persuaded to accompany her husband on a winter excursion. We had a great deal of very soft snow to get through on our way up, and I was looking forward to a long halt in the lower cave, where we should at least be protected from the wind and snow. Great was our distress when we found the entrance completely blocked up by a huge drift. It must have been fully twenty feet deep in front of the cave, and the prospect was most disheartening. In disgust I clambered up the wall immediately to the right of the boulder, and at last managed to reach the aperture leading into the cave from above. It was festooned with huge icicles, and at first the entrance looked effectually blocked. Smashing down the ice with the energy of despair, the tremendous clatter suggesting to my friends that of a bull in a hardware shop, I discovered that the chimney was only iced at its entrance, and that the upper storey of the cave could be reached. Some of the others quickly followed, and we found ourselves in a spacious chamber into which the great heap of snow had scarcely encroached. This was delightful. We threw ourselves into the drift that blocked the main entrance, and cut away at it with vigour till at last we had tunnelled through to the daylight. The biggest man of the party yet remained outside and we persuaded him to insert his legs into the aperture. Without giving him time to change his mind we seized his boots and hauled hard. For one dread moment we thought him jammed for ever, but immediately afterwards we found ourselves lying on our backs in the cave with a yawning opening in the snow-drift, the while our massive friend measured his diminished circumference with a loop of rope. The others then came in and made themselves at home on ropes, ice-axes, and other people’s cameras. We were a party of ten, large enough to be a merry one. Our surroundings were weird and savage, unlike the British notions for a Christmas Day, but I remember that we behaved like civilized people in perhaps one respect. We discussed the year’s literature. Fancy Troglodytes discussing ‘Trilby’! Then it occurred to us that our feet were very cold, and that we should not have much daylight for climbing if we waited longer. Our intention had been to climb Deep Ghyll in two separate parties, by the ordinary way. But the drift suggested a trial of the crack up the left-hand side of the first pitch. The snow would serve as a high take-off, and also a good cushion to soften the fall if the leader were destined to fail. The first difficulty was to get safely into the crack; then it was found that the holds were very scarce, and the recess somewhat too constricted to allow any bracing across from one side to the other.

Think of a foothold; double it. Put your whole weight on to it as you straighten out. Take away the hold you thought of, and you will find yourself wondering how you got there. In some such vague way are very bad bits climbed, and while gasping for breath at the top the climber usually feels that it was the worst place he has ever been in. Seriously, however, this route is severe at all times. In summer the drift is absent, but with rocks slightly wet, as they usually are in that corner, the effort of working upwards is extreme. It is probably best to keep one’s back to the boulder all the way up.

My section of the party came up first. We were very cold, and some fear that Mrs. H. would have frost-bite prompted us to change our minds concerning Deep Ghyll, and to traverse away to the left towards the foot of Steep Ghyll. The others came up the pitch by our route, led in good style by Mr. H. V. Reade. They expressed regret at our untimely departure, and worked laboriously up the ghyll. It was ungenerous of us that evening to gloat over the fact that they had had a terribly cold time of it higher up.

Our route out of the ghyll was known to Mr. Haskett Smith in 1882. It is not often used, and, indeed, in winter it offers certain risks of its own. Starting from the top of the pitch we bore directly down towards the entrance to Lord’s Rake, and when within a reasonable distance of the snow, jumped down to it, sinking in up to our necks. Hurrying down to Hollow Stones as fast as our limbs would carry us, we endured the pangs of returning circulation in our hands and feet, and finished the descent in exhilaration, and with a sense of having well earned our share of the Christmas festivities.

_Second pitch, Variety routes._--A description of the direct way over the second pitch is scarcely necessary. The leader must start just at the entrance to the cave, and work up the corner to the recess between the jammed stone and the cave boulder. The holds are minute, and the necessary stress on the finger tips excessive. He should try it first when there is snow below him, and with his second arranged to pay out twenty feet of rope from the innermost corner of the cave. If the leader is destined to slip, it will take place at the point where the slope suddenly becomes easier, for then his fingers are fatigued, his centre of gravity wants for the first time an onward as well as an upward motion, and his foothold will fail him at the crisis. Therefore his centre of gravity will describe the ordinary parabola back into the snow, and the tremendous jerk on the rope will make the man wonder whether the remains of his centre of gravity are worth retaining. Supposing that he has safely rounded this awkward edge, the utmost caution is necessary for six feet till the scree is reached. Then comes the trouble of manipulating the rope without shaking down stones on the next man who is to pass up. If the leader wants the rope to be in actual tension on his account, he has a hard task in bracing himself firmly without dislodging the scree from under his feet. This trouble of course is minimised when good firm snow can be cut to supply him a footing.

On the whole this direct route over the second pitch may be regarded as too risky, except under the best possible circumstances--such, for example, as existed when Messrs. Robinson and Creak found the two pitches in Deep Ghyll entirely covered with snow, and an easy route available straight up the middle from bottom to top. Then there was no second pitch!

The chimney on the right is excellent, but is not a course open to beginners. It is in two parts. At the two places where it must be quitted the route lies up the buttress on the left. I recall the remark of an unenterprising follower as he looked up at the vertical walls above him; he had been in difficulty down below and was inquiring my intentions. His patience had been all but exhausted, and he said so, adding: ‘It is not merely steep parts that so upset me. They can be borne, but I don’t like this infernal dangling.’ The discussion was diverted into a side issue, as to whether the adjective was permissible, but in justice to his memory--he never visited the Lakes again--be it said that very few climbers like the sensation of suspense.

THE GREAT CHIMNEY.--The position of this has already been defined. Its ascent affords the best finish to the Deep Ghyll climb if snow is absent from the gully and the screes are wearisome. The aspect of the chimney is most forbidding from below, and there is probably but one way of vanquishing it. I had been told how the first party had proceeded up it, and had also heard an account of their defeat at a second attempt. There is much likelihood of defeat even when one knows the way, by reason of the awkwardness of the corner that needs careful negotiation, and I am bound to admit that a first ascent rapidly accomplished may help the climber very little in his second attempt. At the time of my visit the rocks were warm and dry, our party of three had just come up Collier’s Climb, and were keen on completing their knowledge of Scawfell by making for the only chimney with which they were unacquainted. We all gathered together high up in the recess, and then, when the rope had been satisfactorily arranged for a long run out, I started working up the right wall by some small but strong ledges till the roof of the cavern was approached. Then it became necessary to work out of the cave and round by the jammed stone. Just outside was a ledge within reach for the hands; but to work the body up the corner so as to kneel on the ledge was very awkward, the main trouble arising from the depressing effect of the corner of the jammed stone which forced head and shoulders almost to the level of one’s feet. The prayerful attitude realized, I could anchor myself a little by looping the rope round a stone in the roof and had then only to stand up and clamber between the boulder and the living rock, trusting to footholds on the latter. A few feet landed me in safety and the others came up like smoke, carrying my cap that the gymnastics round the corner had shaken down to them. A short scree and a few easy rocks completed the gully, which both in regard to the aspect from above and to the form of its one great difficulty reminded us of the Shamrock Gully over in Ennerdale. The main differences in these two pitches are that the Shamrock Gully pitch looks easier but proves to be harder, also that it has less cave and more boulder. Neither pitch is suitable for beginners.

By walking across to the foot of the lower part of Professor’s Chimney--a name, by the way, given first to the easy exit on the right of Pisgah--a pitch of some severity can be taken or left, as fancy dictates. The platform above this pitch leads well into the chimney and the climb again gets stiff. A direct ascent of the pinnacle is probably feasible from this level, but the first thirty feet will need the utmost enterprise on the part of the daring aspirant to fresh honours in this well-explored region.

THE PROFESSOR’S CHIMNEY.--This looks almost as difficult as the Great Chimney opposite, but is more a test of style than skill, the only trouble being that of loose rocks. Though unworthy of perfect confidence at all times, it may become most friendly in times of frost; many loose stones occur that can be safely _pressed_ though dangerous to _pull_, so that with a slight modification of style they are rendered highly useful. Then of course two loose stones may share one’s weight when one cannot take it.

The introduction of all this elementary practical mountaineering is due to my recollection of a huge stone that came away near the top of the Professor’s Chimney when my party were coming up it. I was out of harm’s way on the Jordan above, but in wrestling with the last part of the chimney, a portion that slightly overhangs, the second in the party pulled away the rock. It bounded down, ricochetting from side to side, and for a moment placed the startled climbers in imminent peril.

In conclusion, just a word to pedestrians who have come out to climb only by telescope. The ascent of Scawfell from the Lord’s Rake may be safely and rapidly accomplished by following its lead past the entrance to Deep Ghyll.

The best plan is to keep as straight a course on the scree as the up-and-down nature of the Rake will permit, with the steep rocks immediately on the left. A pinnacle is almost at once passed on the right that in former times was oft mistaken by the unlearned for the great Scawfell Pinnacle, more especially because a cairn had been erected on its crest as a decoy, by the wily discoverer of the true pinnacle. Then it becomes necessary to descend a little, taking care not to slither down to the right with the loose _debris_. After a few yards the slope again rises for a while, and an easy gully shortly discloses itself on the left, following which the tourist will find himself in a few minutes on the stony plateau that at an easy inclination travels away westward to Burnmoor. In clear weather he will see the huge cairn that crowns the top of Scawfell, at a slight elevation above the top of the gully, and can safely make a bee-line for it. Climbers often descend by this route in bad weather when the Broad Stand appears to elude their anxious search.

The quickest way down from Scawfell is to make for the head of this gully, and then, instead of descending, leave it on the right and follow the edge of cliff straight towards the head of Wastwater; where the edge is deflected to the left, a scree-run to the foot of Brown Tongue takes us over rough but safe ground to the diminutive footpath that starts at the stone wall. It should be learnt first in clear weather, if possible, as there is no royal road to safety for the befogged novice on the fells.