Liu Purguil
Towards the close of 1932 the plans and arrangements of the Pallis expedition to the Gangotri Glacier in the Garwal Himalaya were already well advanced, and the personnel had been completed. The expedition was to be run as far as possible on Alpine lines: that is to say – we were to do our own carrying on the mountains (instead of being carried up by our porters); and in general the similarities rather than the differences between mountaineering in the Alps and in the Himalayas were to be emphasized.
Our plans were to visit the Gangotri Glacier, the tributaries of which were to be explored as far as proved possible, and to climb some of the peaks which surround this, one of’ the longest glaciers in the Himalayas. No particular mountain was mentioned in this respect for the simple reason that so few people have ever visited the district, and so little is known about the peaks there; but perhaps some of us, being "snobs for altitude," had visions of attacking Kunaling, the highest peak in the district. As soon as the "monsoon" hit us here on the southern edge of the Great Himalaya Range, some of the party were to fly away northward, over one of the high passes, into the monsoon-free mountains round the upper reaches of the Sutlij river.
On May 10th, our party, consisting of Marco Pallis (leader), Ted Hicks (C.U.M.C.), Collin Kirkus, Richard Nicholson, and Charles Warren (C.U.M.C.), set out from Mussoorie with sixty- seven Garwalie coolies carrying our stores and equipment. We took the hill path to the Bhagirathi valley which brings one down to the river near a village called Nari on the map; this way took us over two high cols in the foothills from which we had incomparable views on to the Gangotri peaks. Thenceforth we travelled along the great pilgrim route as far as the place called Gangotri. At Harsil the transport had to be reorganized to some extent, some of our Garwalie porters left us to return to Mussoorie, and we had to engage new men to replace them from amongst the local Jahd population, which was just then beginning to find its way back to the upper valleys after wintering down near the plains. On May 22nd we were again on the move, and the next day, after passing through that astonishing place the Gangotri Gorge, which had so much impressed Captain Hodgson and the early travellers in these parts, we reached Gangotri. The path ends here (only a few of the more hardy pilgrims penetrating beyond Gangotri as far as the actual source of the Ganges, to the place called Gau-Much), and our stages in consequence became shorter. But by May 28th, in spite of a slight difficulty with the porters, we had established a base-camp on the moraine at the snout of the Gangotri glacier. Here, in accordance with our plans, we retained four men – two Jahds and two Garwalies; the others we sent back.
Having established base-camp between the ice-hummocks on the snout of the glacier at an altitude of about 14,500 ft., the first days here were spent in learning the geography of the place. Two of us travelled up the main glacier on skis; the others explored two lateral glaciers which drain into the Gangotri glacier near base-camp.
On June 4th and 5th all the climbing parties were away from base-camp. Pallis, with one of the porters, went to a peak on the right bank of the glacier; Dan Singh, the porter, was unable to go beyond the col so Pallis climbed the summit ridge alone. This peak is about 20,000 ft. high. Hicks and Kirkus climbed a 20,000 ft, mountain on the left bank of the glacier near base-camp. And at this time Nicholson and I spent two days exploring the lateral glacier, which flows in an east to west direction, and which joins the Gangotri glacier immediately to the north of the first Satapant peak. We discovered that the glacier was the one down which the Smythe party had looked; and we were able to identify Birnie’s col and the peak which he mistook for the first Satapant. Furthermore, we made a sketch map of an extensive new glacier basin which is not recorded on the map.
After these preliminary explorations, Hicks, Kirkus, and I set out to attack a high snowy mountain of about 22,000 ft. We took two of the men to help us to carry enough equipment to establish an advanced base-camp near the mountain; then we started pushing bivouac-camps up the mountain-side. There were three bivouac- camps in all, and we succeeded in reaching an altitude of over21,000 ft. on this our first really high climb, before we had to retreat because of bad weather and lack of food for further attempts on the summit. On this mountain we were able to climb to Camp 2 at 19,480 ft. on skis.
During the next two days I remained up at advanced-base; the other two had gone on down to base. On June 15th I was rejoined here by Kirkus, who brought up fresh food supplies and the plane- table and surveying apparatus. Now we had both decided independently that there was a possible route up the second Satapant peak from this side, so we decided then and there to postpone the proposed surveying trip up the glacier and to climb the Satapant peak instead.
There are four Satapant peaks, and they all spring from the ridge which forms the right-hand, or easterly, retaining wall of the Gangotri glacier; they are numbered from north to south. Of these peaks the third is the highest and is over 23,000 ft., but there is no obvious route up it from this side. The second peak is a smooth rock wall on this side, but a rib or spur runs up from the glacier to join the south ridge high up on the mountain, and it was up this subsidiary ridge that we hoped to find a way to the top.
On June 15th, laden to the extent of nearly 30 lb., we crossed the glacier and set foot on the mountain. On the 17th we put a camp on the main south ridge of the mountain after spending two nights on the spur lower down. This camp was at the foot of a high tower on the ridge. On the 18th we looked out on the first of the monsoon clouds, then we set to work on the base of the tower, which was exceptionally steep. The last pitch on the tower lay up a vertical corner, the rocky cornice of which was garnished with a pile of loose stones and actually overhung; it was surmounted by Kirkus, who here did a brilliant piece of rock-climbing. The real difficulties of the ascent were over and from the top of the tower we quickly reached the narrow snow crest which was the summit.
Meanwhile the other party had been at work in the new-found glacier basin trying to make a route up the first Satapant peak, but the early advent of the monsoon put an end to their efforts. Just before their attack on the Satapant peak, Hicks and Nicholson had made the ascent of a very difficult peak, well over 20,000 ft. high, near the base-camp. From the summit of this mountain they were able to discern what seemed to be a possible way up the Kedarnath peak, a discovery which may be of considerable importance to future visitors to the district.
The advent of the monsoon put a stop to all further climbing, so we gradually vacated the base-camp and moved down to Harsil to recuperate our wasted bodies.
At Harsil, Hicks and Kirkus left us to return home. Then, after a proper rest, we set out to reach the Sutlij valley and Liu Purguil, the highest mountain in that district. On July 16th we crossed the 18,000 ft. Nela pass to reach the Baspa valley, which we followed down to its junction with the Sutlij gorge; then we moved up the Sutlij as far as the point where it is joined by the Spiti river, and on August 2nd reached Nako, which was our base of operations for the attempt on Liu Purguil. On August 11th we reached the summit of the north peak of the mountain in distinctly bad weather, and instead of enjoying the view into the forbidden land of Tibet as we had hoped to do, we were chased from the top by the storm. And thus ended the final ascent made on the expedition.
Tazaz are still some parts of Europe that have not been thoroughly explored. Perhaps the least accessible is Vatnajökull, the largest ice-cap in Iceland, situated in the south-western corner of the island and covering an area of over 3,400 square miles. This great ice-sheet had been crossed five times before 1932, but, owing to the extremely unpleasant weather conditions, little scientific work had been done, and the existing maps were inaccurate and very misleading. This ice-cap and the desert region of Odadahraun to the north were the areas chosen for an expedition from Cambridge last summer.
The party consisted of six members: F. W. Anderson (geologist and zoologist), University College, Southampton; J. A. Beckett (surveyor), Sidney Sussex, Cambridge; P. Falk (botanist), King’s; W. L. S. Fleming (geologist), Trinity Hall; W. V. Lewis (seismologist and surveyor), Caius; and B. B. Roberts (ornithologist), Emmanuel, leader.
We went out with two main objects – to try and make a double crossing of the ice-cap by sledge and ski, and to carry out a geo- graphical and biological survey of two areas: one in the central desert of Iceland north of Vatnajökull, and the other in the narrow coastal strip between the ice-cap and the sea on the south coast.
The Expedition sailed from Hull on June 21st on board the fishing trawler Lord Balfour of Burleigh, and landed at Hornafjordur, in south-east Iceland, four days later. Our first business was a heavy one, and consisted in unpacking the whole of our belongings, apportioning the provisions into equal eight-day allowances, and getting our loads as far as possible ship-shape for transport on pack-homes, and later on sledges.
If one uses the ordinary methods of travel, it is impossible to spend more than two or three days, at the most, in Central Iceland, as there is no grass for the ponies to eat. We therefore decided to dispense with ponies as soon as we reached Vatnajökull, and to haul the sledges ourselves across the 45 miles of ice to the central desert, and then back again.
Our cavalcade of twenty-eight pack ponies wandered slowly out of Hornafjordur on June 27th. Three days later we reached the ice edge at a height of 3,400 ft. and sent back the ponies to the coast.
We had brought with us two 11-ft. Norwegian sledges, each weighing about 740lb. when fully loaded. Our three-men harnesses were made of canvas with straps over each shoulder and a strap round the waist. To begin with we found sledging distinctly arduous, owing to the steep upward slope, the continual crevasses, and a thawing snow surface; for, besides scientific equipment, the sledges were loaded with food for fifty days.
The first day we covered only 2 miles, and pitched our tents in a blizzard which kept us there for five days. It was most humiliating to be held up like this right at the start, On July 5th we crawled out of the funnel-shaped entrances of the tents and struck camp for .html move northwards. Two days later we reached the worst part of the uphill climb, a steep bank some 500 ft. or 600 ft. high. All six of us harnessed to one sledge and eventually we got everything to the top in relays. Another snowstorm kept us in our tents the following day and when we began sledging again the newly fallen snow was so soft that we made little progress. During most of our stay on Vatnajökull we were in a thick fog, and in order to keep our compass bearing followed one .html, the second sledge party signalling to the first if their tracks deviated from a straight course. It is a strange sensation sledging in a fog over clean snow. There is no horizon and the snow in the foreground merges into the sky without any break, so that it is impossible to tell even if one is travelling up or down hill, except by the drag on the traces. Under these circumstances sledging is most monotonous and one is fatigued rather by boredom than physical weariness.
It took us fifteen days to reach the northern edge of the ice, and there we discovered and mapped a new mountain range extending 8 miles into the ice, and rising to a height of 5,600 ft. We spent a fortnight in the central desert and, before returning, planned the only bit of serious climbing of the whole trip, the ascent of Kverkfjoll Eystri (Eastern Gorge Mountain), our new mountain range. However, we were doomed to disappointment. Another five-day blizzard confined us to our tents once more and, when the weather cleared, our food supply was running low and we could not risk further delay.
The weather during our return was excellent. There was a firm frozen crust on the newly fallen snow, and we recrossed the ice-cap slightly further to the west, reaching the coast in only three and a half days. This illustrates rather well how difficult it is to estimate the time it will take to travel from one place to .html on an Icelandic ice-cap. We had completed most of the work we had set out to accomplish and returned to Hornafjordur by pony once more. Unfortunately it proved impossible to return to England by trawler, so we were forced to charter the only motor-boat in thc place, an open craft some 30 ft. long, and set out for the Westmann Islands, 200 miles away. A bad Atlantic gale blew up and it was only with the most extraordinary good luck that we reached port after twenty-eight hours’ storm, At the Westmann Islands we were picked up by the steamer Godafoss, on her way from Reykjavik to Hull, and reached England on August 20th.
The Oxford University Arctic Expedition (1933) had good weather and a long season, in which several new peaks were climbed. The following notes refer only to climbs in which I took part as a member of the base-party.
Mount Pyramid, an imposing peak just over 3,000 ft., forms the western side of Petunia Bay, Ice Fjord. The last 200 ft. only are of interest after interminable scree, because the capping of Cyathophyllum limestone is characteristically eroded into vertical walls. The summit is reached by chimneys and cracks held together by ice. Surfaces exposed to the sun are therefore dangerous. From the summit-cairn we enjoyed a grand, cloudless view of the fjords, mountains, and ice-cap.
In the Sassen Valley, nearly all the mountains are trigonometrical points, but some, such as Mount Trident, have a surprising character due to the Arctic weathering, in that paper-shales, which in England would lie under a grassy hill, here form bold cliff’s, treacherous to climb. In the survey of Dickson Land, in which E. E. Mann, J. Brough, and I were engaged, many new peaks, valleys, and glaciers were visited for the first tirne in the course of our work, but none of them could compare in a romantic light with Mount Citadel. Three maps, made previously from fair distances, marked the name Mount Citadel, or the Citadel, in widely separated parts of North Dickson Land. We set out to find the elusive and almost mythical mountain.
On the third day’s walk up the Horbye Glacier we climbed to a col to see the view; a handsome, lone, flat-topped mountain some miles to the north was unmistakably our Citadel. That "night" we camped beside Red Lake under the mountain, after difliculties in negotiating a high col-system with our heavy packs, and owing to the steepness of the north-flowing, highly crevassed glacier. During the day we had had to brew pemmican in the shelter of some boulders for warmth and energy.
Rain delayed an ascent for a day, and then the top was cloud-capped. The screes near the top seemed to be abnormally tiring, especially for Brough, who was concealing an internal trouble. There is a capping of limestone, similar to that of Mount Pyramid, and the ice-filled gullies were difficult. A toast in good whisky was welcome when we reached the top in a blast of driven snow. My beard and deer-stalker were memorably festooned with icicles.
I left Dickson Land for a week to join a depot-laying sledge- party. After performing this duty to our leader’s satisfaction, we had time and glorious weather to climb a mountain, since called Mount Mawson, south of the Newton massif. Glen, Hartley, and de Laszlo ski-ed, leaving me to try a direct climb up an ever-steepening snow-gully. Small quartzite outcrops made a fall undesirable. I noticed that avalanches were rare on that face. The process of "flogging down the cornice" was new to me, and I never wish to do it again, alone. The view was magnificent; the Stubendorff Range seemed most inviting to the mountaineer. Mount Newton, 5,445 ft., is the highest peak in the land, whilst the Mount Chernichev system and the Chydenius Range have many notable peaks. Andrée Land appeared to be of unusual height owing to a mirage. The skiers arrived an hour later, but enjoyed a quick run down.
Rock-climbing in Spitsbergen is usually marred by frost-shattered rock and screes. Boots are lacerated, and nails worn down in a short time. A protector for the uppers would be a welcome invention. There is plenty of scope for excellent ski-mountaineering on and near the ice-caps.
Last summer I had the good fortune to be included in a party prospecting in Newfoundland. We spent most of our time in the neighbourhood of the Long Range, which runs for about 100 miles along the west coast. We were all very struck by the great opportunity for unlimited rock-climbing in these mountains.
The rivers rising in the interior have broken through the range, which is never more than 10 miles from the coast, in very steep- sided gorges. We visited only one of these gorges, but we were very impressed by the enormous amount of climbable rock. There appeared to be climbing of every type, but especially slabs. There was one particular series of slabs we saw which made the Idwals look like a postage stamp.
We saw several other gorges from the coast, and even at that distance it was easy to see large precipices and pinnacles.
Climbing grounds would be fairly easy to reach, as there is a coastal steamer service, which calls frequently at the villages situated at the river-mouths. Prom the villages, the mountains could be quickly reached by canoe.
During the summer of 1933 I visited a number of the United States National Parks, of which the following offered very attractive climbing.
The Tetons are a group of about six rather spectacular peaks just south of Yellowstone Park in Wyoming. Their average height is 13,000 ft. and that of’ the surrounding prairie some 6,500 ft. above sea-level. There are excellent camping grounds (free) or log cabins ($1.50 per night) at Jenny Lake, within a mile or so of the climbs. One of the park superintendents, Fritioff Fryxell, has done many of the first ascents and will be found a most charming and helpful person; his book, The Teton Peaks and Their Ascents, is invaluable for this district. There is a Swiss guide, Petzoldt, who has also done some very fine climbs on Grand Teton (13,700 ft.). I climbed Grand Teton (guideless) with two Bulgarian students by the traditional route (there are five other ones) – an interesting, sensational, but not difficult rock climb. We also climbed Teewinot (12,000 ft.) by a new and moderately difficult route, the final 1,000 ft. being up a narrow gully to the right of the usual route. These climbs were done in August.
This park is in Montana, just south of the Canadian border, its scenery being very similar to that of the Canadian Rockies. The average height of the peaks is 8,000-9,000 ft. and of the camping grounds and chalets 4000-7,000 ft. There are innumerable rock climbs of every standard on good limestone escarpments and peaks and many fine walks over high passes. I did one of the latter (Swiftcurrent Pass, 7,500 ft.), climbing an escarpment called the Garden Wall as a diversion en route. In spite of the name the glaciers do not compare with Alpine ones, and although some snow climbs are possible, in August at least, this park would probably be attractive only to a rock climber.
Mount Rainier (14,408 ft.), the third highest mountain in the United States, is a volcanic peak in the north-west state of Washing- ton. It is a snow climb at all seasons. The possibilities of this mountain do not appear to have been very thoroughly investigated. I did the regular route with the local guide, Ben Thompson, starting from Paradise Camp (5,500 ft.) at 3 p.m., sleeping a few hours in the Muir hut (10,000 ft.), and reaching the summit at 8 a.m. Used crampons all the way from Muir and no step-cutting was necessary. Below Muir, ski could have been used with great advantage. Accommodation is in a super-hotel ($2.50 per night) or two berth cabins ($1.00 per night).
Party: E. A. M. Wedderburn, J. A. Ramsay, A. M. Greenwood, all C.U.M.C. August 31, 1932. First Ascent.
This route lies up a ridge which runs from the glacier up to a point a few yards south of the second peak from the south end of the main ridge. The ridge is quite definite throughout and is quite narrow except for the steep buttress in the middle. It is easily recognizable; at the bottom there is a projection of light-coloured rock, shaped roughly like a pointing hand, while a band of snow and ice runs obliquely upwards from north to south, and finishes at the top of the ridge (cf. photo, X – X).
Some difficulty may be experienced in crossing from the ice to the rock, but a way ought to be found in most years on the right (north) of the light-coloured projection. We found no real difficulty here, but plenty of amusement.
Once on the rock we followed it up for 30 ft. to a large, flat platform at the foot of the ridge proper. Here we climbed a 6-ft. overhanging nose slightly on the right and traversed a few feet to the right along a broad ledge, and then continued up the ridge for 100 ft. to .html large level platform. So far the climbing had been interesting, but not difficult.
Above this point the ridge broadens into a buttress and steepens considerably. Slightly to the right of the centre of this platform there are two open shallow chimneys. The right-hand of these was taken and the climbing continued directly up for about 20 ft. Then we climbed a further 15 ft., being forced slightly out to the left to a projecting spike of rock. This spike is split vertically, and one half is very loose. It might make a belay, but the position is very cramped. However, by standing on this spike we were able to get into a narrow, shallow chimney on the right, and worked up this for about 15 ft. to a good foothold.
From here a long step was made to the left round a projection which tends to throw one out of balance. One doubtful hold may be found for the left hand by gripping a narrow flake, but there is a good foothold for the left foot.
Next we climbed directly upwards. After the first few feet progress is made by aid of two cracks sloping up from right to left about four feet apart. With one foot in each of these we worked our way up for 8 ft. into a small overhanging corner. A tricky step over to the right allowed us to get a hand into a crack which slopes up slightly to the right. By the use of jamb holds for fist and foot we worked up this crack for 10 ft. to the top of the steep buttress. Here there is a splendid belay, the first for about 105 ft. This pitch is very difficult and the length of rope which has to be run out makes it no easier.
From here we followed the crest of the ridge for 400 ft. to the top. The climbing is loose but easy, and interesting on account of the narrowness of the ridge in places.
We found this a very entertaining climb, although all the real difficulty is concentrated in the long steep pitch. For this pitch we had 130 ft. of rope between each man, but 50 ft. is enough elsewhere. Cairns were built at all the necessary places.
The climb took about three hours from the foot of the rocks to the top.
This traverse was done on the summer meet of the C.U.M.C., in 1932. Starting from Turtagrö after lunch, on August 28th, Wedderburn, Greenwood, Baird, and Wigram, heavily laden with food and blankets, proceeded to the hut, arriving at 7.5 p.m. Wilson and Cram had gone up in the morning with the intention of doing .html climb during the day, and we met them at the hut.
The hut lies about two and a half hours from the hotel on the Skagastölsband, or col, at the foot of the ordinary route up the Skagastölstind. It was only built to hold four, and is not well designed, the draughts seeming to enter between every stone. It has one good point, however, a very good cooker, with the result that after a sumptuous dinner and a sumptuous breakfast we did not start till 4.20 a.m. Unfortunately, Wedderburn had a bad foot in the morning, so we left him to return, the five continuing being Wigram, Baird, and Wilson on one rope, with Cram and Greenwood on the other. We reached the top of the Skagastölstind very quickly, by 6.35 a.m., but could not stop owing to the length of the climb ahead. We proposed to follow the main ridge of the group in an easterly direction over five summits in all, and we had been told that we might expect ice on the last, the Gjertvastind.
The day was perfect for such an expedition, brilliantly fine, with a clear atmosphere, and, to begin with, thick mist in the valleys. The views were consequently superb, the main mass of the Jotunheim mountains lying to the east, while to the north the Jostedalsbre, the largest snowfield in Europe, stretched as far as the eye could see. The panorama must have stretched very nearly into the Arctic Circle.
We pushed on at once down to Mohns Skar and up to Vesle Skagastölstind, which we reached at 7.20 a.m., the climbing being not difficult, but always interesting and sensational. The ridge was extremely steep on both sides as may be witnessed by the fact that a stone set loose by one of the party only bounced once before striking the glacier over a thousand feet below. After a short halt we continued to the next summit, Centraltind, for breakfast, reaching it at 8.30 a.m. The view of Store Skagastölstind from here is very fine, a mass of rock almost vertical on all sides, rising tooth-like from the glacier below.
We were off again at 9.5 a.m., the next section, down from the summit, being very steep and harder than the previous climbing. This was followed by level ridge-walking, the ridge in part consisting of flat slabs about 5 yds. broad and vertical on either side. The next summit, the first peak of Styggedalstind, was reached at 10.45 a.m., and here we could not resist the temptation to stop and admire the view. We were not moving again until 11.10 a.m., and we passed over the second summit at 11.30 a.m., the Gjertvasskar being reached at 12.5 p.m. Not knowing exactly what was lying ahead, we wisely decided to have lunch. Fortunately we had plenty of bread and bilberry jam; the latter, being of the consistency of soup, had to be drunk, and the "hard-boiled" eggs wrapped up in one of Cram's pullovers had become scrambled on the way.
The rock ridge up the Gjertvastind was vertical, and the face to the south was, if anything, steeper. Slingsby, on the first ascent of this peak, dropped a stone down this face; it touched nothing for 9½ seconds, landing on the glacier well clear of the base of the mountain. It was necessary, therefore, to traverse out to the north-west face across the head of the Gjertvasbre, cross the bergschrund, and ascend the ice slope above it, which appeared to be at an angle of from 45 to 50 degrees. The summit, we estimated, was 500 ft. above us. At 12.35 p.m. we were moving, but we did not stand on top till 5.30 p.m. First of all the bergschrund gave trouble. It was fairly well filled with snow, but the upper lip tended to overhang, and when Wilson started to tackle it ominous cracks were heard, so we beat a hasty retreat. A little further along, a rocky island on the face extended down to the bergschrund, and we were able to make a way up in the trough between it and the ice, until the angle of the rocks eased off and we were able to make a way up them. As this step had been rather awkward we brought the rucksacks up on the rope. They had to be brought round a corner of rock, and when they arrived at the top the rope was found to be frayed and almost worn through.
The top of the rocky island was reached in two 120-ft. run-outs from the bergschrund, the latter being approximately the same height as the col. From here to the top stretched a "pitiless ice slope." How pitiless it was we did not realize until we found it required thirty to fifty strokes to cut each step, the leader having an eye for pleasant security in such places and not considering the rubbered rock-climber’s size in footholds as being anything like suitable in such a position.
We had in all brought three 120-ft. lengths of rope or line between the two parties, and so to spare as many people as possible the discomfort of a perpetual bombardment of ice-chips, we used it all, each man roping at the end of 120 ft. with two 60-ft. intervals at the end. In this way, when the leader reached some rocks at the top, the last man was just starting. We had in all cut 360 ft. of steps, or about 300 ft. vertically, and had taken three-and-a-half hours. It was now a matter of three minutes of level ridge to the top, fortunately not corniced, but it was so late that we were unable to remain, and so, turning round; descended to the first stream of melted snow, Here we finished our food and had a much-needed rest, but were soon moving again, realizing that at least half of our 9 kilometres walk back along a path would be in the dark. The lower slopes were broken, and we did not reach the foot of the mountain till 8.30 p.m., when it was dusk.
The less said about the remaining four hours the better. Sufficient be it that soon after 9.30 p.m. we lost the path for a considerable distance and had very rough going, for which our three lamps were scarcely sufficient. When we did eventually find it again it was hard to follow, and the leader, repeatedly falling asleep as he walked, would go off at a tangent into the vegetatian at the side. An Aurora Borealis cheered us for a time, and when eventually the hotel was reached at 12.40 a.m., we scrounged a hasty meal from the kitchen and dropped into bed. The next day was spent in making up arrears of food and sleep, though Cram, not to be beaten by anything, complained bitterly at wasting a whole day in so short a holiday.
Party: E. A. M. Wedderburn, P. D. Baird, R. S. Cumming, J, W. Crofton, E. J. A. Leslie.
The Mitre Ridge is a magnificent 600-ft. buttress of Beinn a’Bhuird, in the Cairngorms, running down into Coire Garbh. It has with- stood the attempts of several parties to climb it. The rock is the coarse granite of the Cairngorms, uncomfortable to climb upon, the weathered edges being rounded, crumbling, and sore to the touch.
On the evening of July 3rd, 1933, immediately after the Skye meet, the above party launched their attack, which had been entirely planned at the President’s informal meetings in Cambridge. After a 10-mile walk from Inchrory in a radiant twilight, a bivouac was made on the mossy floor of the lower Coire Garbh at about 2,500 ft., some 500 ft. below the foot of the Mitre.
The next day being perfect, the ridge was attacked by two parties. Wedderburn, Baird, and Leslie attempted a route which kept as near to the arête as possible for its entire length. Cumming and Crofton made a route up the west face.
The "direct" route started a few yards to the west of the lowest rocks and followed a groove or recess, prominent from below, which slanted to the right. The first pitch was the most difficult of the whole climb and required a lead out of 110 ft. Thereafter the climbing was easy until the foot of the first tower, which over- hung slightly, and up which two cracks ran. Both these resisted thc stoutest efforts of the leader and an escape, by no means easy, was made to the left. The arête was regained at the top of this tower.
Thereafter the route led straight up the arête, and was not difficult, although a sensational variation was tried on the second tower with sensational results.
Cumming and Crofton’s route was shorter, but gave more consistently difficult climbing. Starting near the spot marked X in the photograph the climb led up the angle between the main ridge and its subsidiary buttress. The second pitch led up the right- hand of two possible chimneys, and here an overhanging tongue gave some sport. Beyond that the climbing was mainly difficult on account of the perched blocks on ledges and the long lead-outs required. A dislodged boulder the size of a sheep caused a tense second or two and much noise in the echoing coire. After joining the arête at the gap between the first and second towers, the route was the same as the other.
Cumming and Crofton, leading through, took two hours, the other party three, to complete the ascent.
THERE were three of us, all C,U.M.C. members: E. J. A. Leslie, J. W. Crofton, and myself, who decided to escape from examination results and the effects these have on family relationships.
It was also economically sound to forgo the glorious pageantry of degree-taking in person, and to occupy the time till the Skye meet this trip to the North-West Highlands was planned. The main object of this note is to encourage further research in this district, which is not so very inaccessible to the club if you follow these directions carefully.
First you have to get there, and internal combustion is the only suitable method. Mountaineers’ cars are sold at most garages; mention the late President’s name and you will be dealt with at once. A pile of spare tyres and water vessels is recommended, and remember – put your sanest member at the wheel The road by Lochinver brings out suicidal tendencies in most people; it is narrow, winding, always blind, and the 12 m.p.h. limit is dangerously fast.
Then you must be prepared to camp. Pubs are rare, and those that exist cater for fishermen, who are sticklers for comfort and cuisine when the wet and midgy days are over. Moreover they pay for it, while you probably cannot. Besides, at the time of year we are contemplating, what could be finer than the genial comradeship of seasoned climbers, the roaring primus at the tent door, the scented airs that... Knowing these joys we pulled strings, and were kindly entertained for part of our time in a stalker’s cottage in a large forest, confining our camping to the earlier half.
Then the rock. In the Assynt and Coigach districts the mountains are either lumps of Torridon sandstone, forgotten in the process of geological spring-cleaning, or thrust structures capped with quartzite. The latter forms the world’s worst scree, and gives no respectable rock faces, so we kept to the sandstone. This is generally much harder to climb than it looks. The mountains are built up of great horizontal layers of rock with numerous grassy terraces and nooks, and, occasionally, some unstable pinnacles resembling piles of pancakes. Of course, there are no belays, as most of the holds are well rounded, so we carried a poker, and anchored the party to the turf ledges by means of this.
We had three good climbs on the Torridonian; which are described in detail in S.M.C.J. No. 116. First came the Sgurr an Fhidhleir ridge, 600 ft. high, which steepens to 70 degrees. This gave a grand sensational climb of moderate difficulty; then we had a short climb, three pitches, on Stac Polly of much the same standard; last a longer climb, also of three pitches, on Sàil Liath (An Teallach). This was a delightfully definite arête and much sounder rock for climbing (very difficult).
In the region near Loch Maree the Lewisian gneiss rises to over 3,000 ft., and gives a very different type of climbing. It is very rough and hard, and weathers in a curious way, so that neatly shaped boot- and finger-holds are conveniently prepared in the steepest faces.
Going south from our cottage base we bivouacked for a night among these hills, and climbed both days. The Brst was on Sgurr na Laocainn, a four-pitch climb on a crag where many much longer climbs could be found. The lowest of these pitches was probably severe, the remainder moderately difficult, including a long lead- out in a splendid chimney.
Next day we went up A’Mhaighdean, and found a climb of about 400 ft. to the south-west of its summit. This was the most enjoyable of all, easy difficult standard except for the first pitch – a trickster, and with very varied problems.
We were fortunately much alike in degree of skill, so took turns to lead on different days. If the leader failed or looked unsatisfactory. a fresh climber was thrown into the breach – Bavarianism almost. Crofton was the "crack" man, or was employed for muscular little overhangs; Leslie walked delicately on steep slabs; I was called into play whenever extra reach was thought to be required.
The point is that we only nibbled at the possibilities of the district. There is heaps more to be done, and exploring brand-new climbs has a tremendous fascination. Moreover, this is a unique and beautiful country. Where else can you hope to see an eagle almost every day on the hills (good omen this), or a blue hare tamely loping up the slopes in front of you (bad this – means it probably won’t go without a death). At Eastertime or in summer it should be equally attractive.
So gird on your ropes and go.
Being unable, for various reasons, to attend the official Easter meet of the club, six of us spent three or four days at the S.M.C. hut on Ben Nevis: P. D. Baird, E. J. A. Leslie, R. C. Hutt, D. A. Howarth, F. W. L. Blaikie, and M. S. Cumming.
With the exception of one day the weather was awful; incessant rain and mist not only damped our ardour but ruined the condition of the ice and snow in the gullies, and left a horrible mixture of slush and wet ice on the rocks.
We climbed in two parties; each party did the Tower Ridge and the North-East Buttress, while one party did the Staircase Route on Carn Dearg. Under the conditions the Recess Route was amusing, and we duly appreciated the airiness of the Tower Gap.
On the one day that it did not rain we did a hitherto unrecorded route to the first platform of the North-East Buttress. It started to the left of Raeburn’s Route, up the arête, and traversing upwards and to the right crossed his route just above the start; the traverse was continued until a groove was reached which leads straight up, about 50 to 100 yds. to the right of the arête, until it abuts on the head of the arête just below the first platform; this gave quite an amusing climb; it is well defined, and the groove, if taken direct, offers one or two pitches which require thought. If it had nothing else to commend it, it would be worth climbing as it offers magnificent views, even if their appreciation may sometimes be disturbed by the lack of good stances and belays.
Experience taught us two things on this party – that few people in Fort William can give adequate instructions of the route to the hut, and that to find the Carn Dearg arête from the top of Ben Nevis is far from easy in mist or darkness. Two members of the party reached Fort William in the evening after travelling from London. By following the directions they received in Fort William as to the route to the hut, they found themselves somewhat exhausted on a large snowfield. It was then almost midnight, so dumping their rucksacks containing extra provisions they descended. After sleeping the night in a barn and breakfasting off raw sausages, they re- ascended and found their sacks just below the top of Ben Nevis.
The other point was brought home to us even more forcibly. After our first climb we found that the mist on top of Ben Nevis was too thick to allow us to distinguish between the gullies. We decided, therefore, to take the easy way down by the Carn Dearg ar6te; we took a compass bearing and set off; over an hour later we were taking a last despairing bearing from the summit indicator, having determined to descend at all costs and risk missing the arête, in which case we would land in Glen Nevis, a long way from the hut. We were lucky and reached the hut just after dark. The other rope had left after us, so we knew they would be late. They did not turn up at all, and though we guessed they had gone down to Glen Nevis we were far from happy, and at about 11 o’clock went out to indulge in the old Scottish mountaineering pastime of blowing whistles.
I have blown whistles on many occasions, pleasant and unpleasant, but may I never have to blow one again at 11 o’clock on a wet night at the North-East Buttress on Ben Nevis. You could almost hear the spirits of the hill laughing at your feeble efforts as you stumbled and fell over the rough ground below. Needless to say, the defaulters had reached the top rather late, missed the way to the arête, and arrived in Glen Nevis at dusk. Wisely enough, they did not attempt to recross the arête, but walked the tedious miles to Fort William.
The story cannot end without commending the valiant effort of the leader of the party, who left Fort William at midnight and came up to the hut to allay our fears.
The following climbs and variations were done during the Summer meet in Skye, June 1933.– E. A. M. WEDDERBURN, Trinity Hall.
START at grass patch above and to the left of scree between West and North-West Buttresses of Sgumain, about 50 yds. from start of Pilkington’s North-West Buttress climb. The route goes straight up the face over very steep rock, with the leader continuously out of sight of the second man. Rock fairly loose, but good belays. Climbing consisted of pitches connecting ledges and recesses, and was always exposed, although some of the pitches were quite short. After 300 ft. of this type of climbing a broad shelf was reached, from which two exposed pitches landed the party at the cairn on the West Buttress. Standard, 3a (approx.).
CLIMBED on slabs on the left of the groove normally followed. Magnificent exposure. This pitch was also varied on the right, ascending to the roof of the groove, and the climb continued on this line.
INSTEAD of "delicate step to right," climb straight up slab, making a very much harder pitch.
FROM the platform below the White Slab a steep chimney and crack on the left is climbed instead of the usual route which goes to the right. The climb is classed as No. 4, but is really No. 3 without this variation.
FINISH directly up tower above Pinnacle rake to right of ordinary route. Interesting.
SLEPT (?) under a rock near top of Gars-bheinn on night of Monday, July 10th. Started at 4.50 a.m. on the following morning; reached Sgurr Dearg 8.20 (20 minutes’ rest); Bidein 12.10 (45 minutes rest); Sgurr nan Gillean, 3.30; Sgurr na h’-Uamha, 5.35. Returned to camp at head of Glen Brittle on same evening. Weather showery, with mist. Compass a source of entertainment and exasperation.
No guide-books have ever revealed records of climbs in Ireland; but to the belief that climbs there must be the writer has long held, Tales of "quite large precipices, though the rock looks pretty bad" in the "Prisons" (as the dark, raven-haunted cwms are called) of "Lug," brought back by rambling friends, induced J. W. Crofton (C.U.M.C.), H. D. O’Brien, and myself to try our fortune there. So with 200 ft. of rope the three of us set out in an elderly car in April 1933, for Rathdrum, some 40 miles from Dublin. Thence we walked the 10 miles to Aghavanna, to the south of the mountain, where we spent the night in a cheerless and insect-ridden hotel. Next day we went north up the valley of the Ow River, towards something which we fondly imagined was a cliff Alas, we were disappointed. It was merely a steep, boulder-strown slope. Plenty of boulder problems (and mossy ones they were) amused us, but no continuous climb. However we were not entirely done, for on the right, on a spur of Lugnaquilla called Percy’s Table, was a little cliff about 100 ft. high and 250 ft. long, of excellent slabby rock. We named it Percy’s Slabs, and proceeded to climb it. It yielded four climbs of moderate difficulty. No belays were found, and we climbed separately; gardening (we did a little with a boy scout’s axe – an excellent implement if provided with a sling) might reveal some.
The climbs made were: Three on the three slabs into which the cliff is divided by small mossy gullies (one fell to each of the party) and one on a rib which runs up the right-hand gully. This, the most difficult climb, was first done by Crofton; an alternative start on a triangular slab to the left was made by the writer.
We finished the ascent of the mountain – a fine one, and the highest in Leinster (our only regret was having brought the superfluous ropes). After a pleasant day we returned gladly to the inevitable rashers and eggs and tea. On the morrow we walked back via Glenmalure to Rathdrum. As a mountaineering venture, the excursion was perhaps a failure, but the hills are well worth a visit, and our slabs are a pleasant diversion.
This rocky gorge, about 10 miles out on the Dublin-Enniskerry road, contains a fair number of entertaining boulders, which may amuse anyone staying in Dublin, who wants to polish up the nails in his climbing boots. Two rather holdless 40-ft. slabs certainly gave Crofton, O’Brien, and myself plenty of exercise and, till we roped, some qualms, unfit as we were when we visited them last Easter Vac.
IN visiting Connemara for the first time last August I was accompanied by two non-climbers, and consequently we have more reconnaissance than climbs to our credit. Our single ascent was of a subsidiary rib of the main buttress on the north face of Bercow. The climb started up two prominent white slabs and continued as far as possible up the arête, finishing by two short but interesting chimneys. Scrambling was necessary between certain of the pitches, and some of the more interesting parts could have been turned, but the climb was on the whole enjoyable. The rock is quartz, and difficult for boots at the start, though the weathering makes it easier higher up. The standard was about that of a Welsh "difficult," though the second of the initial slabs, if climbed on the face, might be equivalent to a Skye "severe." The main buttress, which we regarded ourselves as too inexperienced to attempt, might well repay further investigation.
September 6, 1933 ONE huge cave with a delightful situation at the top. Believed first ascent. Difficult.
It is often assumed that Cambridge is no place for the active climber; he will find, indeed, many fellow enthusiasts, but to indulge in his sport he must travel some hundred miles for the sight of a piece of rock, and climbing on buildings has its own kind of perils. Yet within two miles of Cambridge are chalk pits which give a specialized sort of climbing and a very pleasant Sunday afternoon’s sport as well. It is climbing in miniature, but within their modest height the climbs contain a surprising variety of problems, and they give on a small scale practice in many departments of mountaineering. It is not mere freak climbing, bouldering on peculiar rock; indeed, it can teach a good deal in the way of balance technique. Rush and grab methods simply will not work on a rock of extremely variable quality; for even at its best each hold needs testing, and the climber will do well to maintain as many points of attachment as possible.
The pits in which most climbing has been done lie along the Cherryhinton Road; on reaching the village itself from Cambridge the road up the hill on the right is taken, which goes past the reservoir. Before this is reached a concrete track leads on the left hand into a deep quarry, and on Saturday afternoons and Sundays this will be found deserted, and placed, so rumour says, at the disposal of all rock climbers.
The pit widens at the end of the track into a rectangular arena, and on three sides of this the chalk rises steeply in walls about go ft. high. Since the pit is still being worked, the configuration of the climb changes rapidly; but it may be stated briefly that the climbing lies on the walls ahead and to the right as one enters.
The first buttress on the right is known as the Presidential Buttress; the climbs on this have been partly destroyed, unfortunately. Several other climbs lie on the lower wall, which is separated in this part of the pit by a sloping glacis from the upper wall, which itself contains two easy ways off and a rickety staircase climb.
Further round a high vertical wall provides the would-be Alpinist with good practice in abseiling, with the added attraction of heavy stonefall as he descends. This is characteristic of all parts of the pit, and before commencing operations above, the presence of fellow climbers below should be guarded against.
The side of the pit ahead as one enters consists of a nearly vertical wall 20 ft. high, and a steep, loose slope above, divided by the quarrying operations into definite couloirs, each ending in a narrow funnel. A cart is sometimes placed below, and forms an easy method of ascent and a happy landing in case of descent. The upper slope will be found useful to practice step kicking upon, and under favourable conditions good glissades have been made down these couloirs. A prominent slab in this part of the pit has several systems of steps cut in its surface; the angle is considerable and steepens at the highest part, where it is surmounted by the loose slope. The direct finish of the climb thus gives a pretty problem.
A small pit on the other side of the road also merits attention. Coming up the hill from Cherryhinton, the entrance to the large pit is passed on the left, and below the second gate on the right the small pit will be found; access to it is given by a path on its right edge. Standing on the floor of the pit we see a face about go ft. high; four interesting routes lie on the left side; unfortunately the chalk is rotten to the right, where the diff bulges out into a fine nose. The principal climb is known as Suspension Slab, so-called after the predicament of an early explorer on attempting to gain the small slab near the top of the face. The route starts from a cairn, with suitably inscribed splinth, and goes straight up over steep sound chalk for 12 ft; a rising traverse is now made to the right in the direction of the slab itself. A shallow scoop is gained directly above the slab and for the last 10 ft. the angle, which lower down approaches the vertical, eases off to compensate for the growing rottenness of the rock.
A direct route gains the slab, starting from a point directly below it, and short variations are possible to the left of the original route.
All these climbs are on natural holds, and the routes will be recognized by the state of polish existing on them. Another route starts from a shallow groove to the right of the direct route and immediately to the left of a diminutive arête bounding the nose; this entailed considerable engineering operations of a most exhausting nature in its lower stretches. The groove is surmounted in a chimney- like manner, and the arkte gained and followed to a diminutive niche. This, however, gives no shelter, so the climber is forced to traverse to the left to the level of the slab, and to finish up the usual way. This is the hardest climb in the pits, but the holds should be treated with circumspection, as many are cut in large, semi-detached blocks.
Most of the climbs in this pit have been led, but the cautious climber will require a rope from above. A convenient gatepost provides an ample belay; it is best to use this, as a pleasant Sunday afternoon conversation on top of the pit may be interrupted with a suddenness directly attributable to the unreliability of chalk.
A sunken kiln near the face holds four routes, and a girdle traverse on its modest surface; they will be found pleasantly restful after exertions on the cliff. The other parts of the pit are disappointing; in spite of its large size, few routes are to be made.
In most of the climbs it will be found possible to utilize the natural holds, but in some cases it is necessary to cut them. A light hammer with a long spike, held to the wrist with a loop, will be found most practicable, but a nice sense of discrimination in its use is needed, as the character of the chalk makes it possible to alter the complexion of a climb materially with a little exertion. A domestic poker with a sharp end has been used as a piton, but the chalk was found deficient in holding power and the poker in rigidity.
Finally, it may be said that to the enthusiastic maker of new routes, the chalk pits offer exceptional attractions, as new routes are constantly made from the ruins of the old.
As the two C.U.M.C. representatives at the International Mountaineering Congress at Cortina, R. D. Adgey-Edgar and I were somewhat hampered by having no foreign tongue between us except public-school French. The business of the congress was sup- posed to be done in English, French, German, and Italian; but as the only other Englishman there was Colonel Strutt, who speaks a large number of languages, everyone seemed to assume that English was unnecessary. I dare say someone asked us in Italian if we spoke Italian, which would account for everything, as our only word in that language was "si." Anyhow the result was that we only made one public remark during the whole show.
However, this was probably an advantage in some ways. Speaking for myself, I think that my enforced dumbness and what I hoped was a knowing expression were more impressive than anything I might have had to say about "alpinism." The fact that we were there was what mattered. The Alpine Club was the only other British club which was represented, and there were delegates from about twenty countries; so I hope that in those twenty countries at least anyone giving a list of British mountaineering clubs would say "the Alpine Club and the C.U.M.C."
When I arrived in Cortina I found the whole town plastered with posters saying: "Vive il Club Alpino Italiano," "Per il Presi- dent del C.A.I., Eja! Eja! Eja! Alala!" and other curious but pleasantly enthusiastic remarks; and the proceedings began with a procession of all the climbers in the neighbourhood, complete with boots and ropes, and led by General Manaresi, the president of the C.A.I. However, the main business of the congress was to discuss various aspects of mountaineering and to see what could be done about them. These discussions were divided up into four parts: alpinism, or climbing technique, science, art, and "turismo." There was a long argument as to how "turismo" could be translated into other languages, and at the end of it all I was still not certain what it meant. Anyhow, it seemed to have nothing to do with tourists. I think one might define it as the technique of getting to the bottom of one’s climb. The most important questions which arose under this heading concerned the provision and management of huts.
"Science and the mountains" gave rise to more talk than anything else; and it certainly seems to me that this is the subject in which international co-operation of this kind might be most useful. Indeed, technique and art, and, if my definition of it is right, "turismo" as well, are largely matters of personal taste; and though it is interesting to hear of other people’s ideas in these directions, discussion of them cannot be anything more than criticism. But I think the congress did useful work on at least two scientific subjects. A permanent commission was elected to extend the publication of weather reports in climbing districts, and to make arrangements for combining the experience of mountaineers and weather experts in sending out warnings of bad weather. Also a summary is going to be made of all that is known about snow conditions, and this will be published somehow in winter sports centres.
If this was all the congress had done I think it would have been worth while; but I have no doubt at all that it did a lot of other good work which I didn’t understand.
One question which arose was whether in future individual clubs should be allowed to send representatives, or whether national representatives should be elected by the clubs of each country. The division was about even on this, so they decided to take a list of which clubs wanted which. We did not see why future members of the C.U.M.C. should be denied the amusement we had got out of the congress, so we voted – we hope – against national representatives. I mention all this because it gave rise to our only comment on the proceedings, which I referred to above, and in fact it was the only time I have ever made a public speech in any foreign language whatever. When they started reading out a list of the clubs we were both overcome with panic; however, when it came to our turn I manfully gasped "Afilié," and immediately collapsed, breathing heavily. It seemed to convey something to everybody. I hope it was what we meant.
The Italians we met – mostly members of the C.A.I.– were most hospitable people. We have asked General Manaresi to become an honorary member of the C.U.M.C. It was the least return we could make for a great deal of kindness.
We only had time for two climbs while we were there, both of which were rather inglorious. We started up Monte Cristallo, but were beaten by a very thick cloud about 1,000 ft. below the top; and later on I went up Tofane di Roces alone, which is quite tall, but probably the easiest of all the Dolomites. So the less said about that the better.
Next year the congress is going to be held at Pontresina, and the year after that in Barcelona. To establish the international fame of the C.U.M.C. I think we should send a team of about six expert linguists to both these places. And I recommend it to anyone, linguist or not, as a very amusing holiday.