Ramblings
Saunterings
Ramblings: about North-West England
Ramblings is a set of articles about North-West England, of unknown authorship and
indeterminate date, believed to have been written for amusement on rainy days,
which are not unknown in North-West England.
36. Misadventures on the Fells: Pillar
... Wasdale Head ...
The day ahead was a simple one. We were to complete
the Mosedale Horseshoe, which meant that we did not have to
carry all our gear with us. Or rather, the day would have been
simple if the clouds were not halfway down the mountains. It
is one of the delights of the Lake District that the weather on
one day bears little relation to the weather on the next day.
Yesterday, it was clear, blue sky; today, we could not see the
sky at all. The basin of Mosedale was completely enclosed by
dark, foreboding mountains cut off below their prime.
As we set off alongside Mosedale Beck the others
rather loitered behind but I waited in the cloud at the crest of the pass. I didn’t want
a repeat of the Fairfield fiasco (Rambling 4). Then, however, the cloud was
stationary, forming a thick mist. Here, it was swirling about,
providing fleeting glimpses into the distance.
... Pillar ...
When we had all at last gathered, I ostentatiously
manipulated the map and compass, for I wanted them to
appreciate the mastery with which I tackled these difficult
conditions. In due course, I led them up the broad slope of
Pillar but that, I felt, would not provide a worthy challenge, so
I soon took them off onto the side path to Robinson’s Cairn.
Needless to say, they had no idea who Robinson is or was,
so I enlightened them. John Robinson was a local man who
was part of the first rock-climbing fraternity. As the cairn’s
plaque says “he knew and loved as none other, these his native
crags and fells” - particularly the massive pinnacle of Pillar
Rock, which we were approaching.
I am sure, however, that I myself would have been more
at ease with most of his co-climbers than with John Robinson,
who was, no doubt, a rough local fellow. They were civilised
men, like professors, who regarded rock-climbing as an
academic challenge to their modest courage. If by some mishap
one was left dangling by their finger-tips over some precipice
he was liable to utter mild imprecations in Greek, with some
apt quotation from Homer.
One particular pioneer, Walter Haskett-Smith (I always
feel that a man’s worth is proportional to the number of
hyphens in his name +1 (the +1 is because I wouldn’t wish to
imply that a hyphenless man is worthless)) considered that
‘artificial aids’ such as ropes, spikes and ladders should not
be used because they were “a means by which bad climbers
were enabled to go where none but the best climbers had any
business to be”.
I know exactly what he means. Although I haven’t given
rock-climbing the benefit of my expertise, I often feel the same
when walking the Lakeland fells. These are places that only the
best fell-walkers have any business to be.
I also approve of their diffident descriptions of their
dangerous and difficult exploits, a tradition that continues to
this day in the British ranking grades for the severity of rock-climbs,
from ‘a doddle’ (actually, a real challenge) to ‘a trifle
tricky’ (impossibly severe).
The path to Robinson’s Cairn was narrow and exposed.
The occasional glimpses of the cliffs nearby induced some
trepidation in my colleagues. As we moved up a rock ridge
and across some scree, fearsome visions of Pillar Rock itself
reared ahead. I pointed out the steep cliffs and Walker’s Gully,
so named because a man named Walker had fallen to his death
there. This did not reassure them, as I anticipated.
I sensed that they feared that I was leading them up Pillar
Rock itself, a misconception that I was content to let lie. The
face of Pillar Rock loomed ahead, appearing to block our way.
We clambered up a traverse, with the head of the pinnacle to
our right. Only then did I indicate the steep path up to the
left.
We soon reached the top of Pillar, where I paused for
lunch and to give my team the chance to express everlasting
gratitude for saving them from the extreme dangers of
Pillar Rock. The rest of the walk passed uneventfully. As we
dropped down to Wind Gap the cloud began to lift and by
the time we reached Yewbarrow we could see late afternoon
sunshine casting shadows over the magnificent valley of
Wasdale.
Photos:
A glimpse of Pillar Rock as the cloud briefly lifted.
Walter Haskett-Smith.
Comments:
• Your judgment of Haskett-Smith is misguided.
His name didn't have a hyphen. He was a plain Smith, really - and none the worse for that.
Haskett Smith was called to the bar in 1885 but he never worked as a barrister - or
indeed as anything else.
Ramblings
Saunterings
© John Self, Drakkar Press, 2024-
Top photo: Rainbow over Kisdon in Swaledale;
Bottom photo: Ullswater