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| Stickle Tarn and Bow fell |
The conditions, such as they were, made all three of us concerned over using Jack’s Rake as an ascent. There was already more snow that we had expected, but we decided to get to the bottom of the Rake and see what it looked like close up. There we could make the decision with more information, and what’s more we’d be at the bottom of Easy Gully and we’d be able to use that as our ascent instead if need be. Off we went, plodding through the worsening spindrift and, now and then, heavy snow.
The first obstacle we discovered was a fast flowing and cold looking stream that needed to be crossed. We wandered up and down for a minute or two, Bob and myself conferring over what looked like a safe, and dry, crossing place. Eventually I decided to make a stab at it. There was a convenient rock about halfway across the stream, which made a passable crossing place. I looked at the stream…it still looked COLD…this crossing would have been easy with trekking poles, but all I had was my brand new Ice Axe…
“Well I paid for this” I said as I un-strapped the axe. Gingerly I stepped onto the, boulder, which was covered with ice, and used the axe for support on an adjacent stone. With a leap of faith I made it just across the stream, nice and dry.
Jeannie was next, and with her shorter legs it was going to be a stretch getting across. “Why don’t you chip the ice off this stone?” she asked, “It’ll be easier”. The stone was quickly denuded of it’s covering of the slippy stuff, making the crossing easy for both Jeannie and Bob.
“Well, that’s it then,” said Jeannie, “axe bloodied!”
We were off again, heading for Jack’s Rake. As we approached we could just make out a figure moving up our intended route, making slow progress. The snow got heavier and the wind increased. My concern over the route grew the closer we got to it. It looked an “interesting and challenging” route, and there looked to be a lot of exposure at the top.
“I’m not too happy about that,” I said. “I have no experience of full-on winter conditions. It could be bad news going up there today”
We debated the pros and cons of having a look but I wasn’t happy at all. “I’d rather take the ‘easy’ route,” I said.
“It’s only easy by name” said Jeannie, “it’s meant to be quite a scramble!”
“Well it still looks a better option to me!”
Eventually we all concurred…partly because we’d see how slow the fellow on the Rake had been and partly because Easy Gully looked more sheltered from the ever-worsening weather.
A slippery start
We set off and almost immediately we met a major obstacle. The Chock at the base of the gully was high and very slippery, almost without footholds. I jimmied myself into the crack and got up ok, but Jeannie’s short legs hindered her again. A quick shove in the right place by Bob soon got her up. Bob came up the step and as he and Jeannie sorted themselves out, I geared up and went on ahead.
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| This Spindrift at Stickletarn was soon replaced by sharp blizzard conditions |
It was now a sharp blizzard and the snow was falling heavily. It was soft and made the going hard work. The axe was useless for cutting steps and my boots were too soft for kicking them. It was like swimming up-hill, like the worst shale scramble you’ve ever done, truly one step up and two steps back. The drifts were a good foot thick and energy sapping. I cut a path for about 10 minutes, and then Bob took the lead.
His kicking action was slightly better than mine, and I managed to make the most of his steps. Unfortunately I didn’t realise that my steps were destroying the path made for Jeannie, who was struggling along at the rear. Bob and I waited for her to catch up, but I started to get cold waiting and headed on again. I had looked up and seen a formation of rocks that would have looked “interesting” on a summer’s day, but in these tough conditions I’d put it somewhere between “difficult” and “impossible”. The going was hard again, and the ice axe was only useful for support. I got to the step and looked at it. It was higher than the one at the bottom, and it was really icy.
Fortunately there was a good area to stand just below it but no way round. I dropped down a little to try around the other side of the gully, only to go straight through a small cornice and onto a sodden ledge of grass. The grass gave way and tumbled quickly down. “Below!” I shouted and Bob and Jeannie took cover. I was still slipping and the thought of a long and painful journey down came into my head.
I wouldn’t call it a full self-arrest. But I twisted round and dug the axe into the snow and grass. I quickly stopped and took stock of my situation. I’d dropped about 5 feet…not far, but enough to get the adrenaline going. I thanked God for the axe and ‘Egg’ for giving me the credit card to buy it! I slowly skirted back round to the safe ledge to wait for Jeannie and Bob.
As I did I looked down and saw that the gully was filling up with people, and five blokes were rapidly approaching me.
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| ISlippery when frozen |
“It looks a bit tricky,” I said, as they stood next to me. “Be my guest and go first!”
A quick discussion led to one of their number clearing off a lot of the snow and ice, and then being rather unceremoniously flung up the step. It wasn’t a graceful ascent, but it was successful.
“Do you think a rope would be useful” said one of them, and produced an 8mm scrambling rope from his sack. By now Bob and Jeannie had joined the throng and it looked like the picture from “Into Thin Air” where the climbers on Everest in 1996 were queuing at the bottom of the Hillary Step. I only hoped that we’d fare better than they had. “I wish I’d bought my rope,” said Bob.
The rope was thrown up and the first guy tied it onto a rock spike for a belay, down it came again and the party and went up one after another.
“Can we catch a lift with that rope?” we asked… “Of course” they said. Jeannie was next in line. “I’ve got a big bar of chocolate to share if we can use the rope!”
“Send the choccy up first!” said the belayer, but kindly dropped the rope again. Jeannie tied on and went up, again with more than a little help from Bob. Bob was next and as he tied on a gentleman and his late-teenage son joined us. “Busy here, isn’t it” he said. Bob, the chap and myself discussed Jack’s Rake. He had being planning going that way too, but had decided against it. “It’s quite exposed at the top, and wouldn’t be fun in these conditions. Mind you this isn’t a picnic either is it?”
Bob had gone, and the rope came down for me. I tied on and went for it. It was not a good experience. It was hard going over the rock and I needed to shimmy rather like a beached whale to get along it. Quickly and very in-elegantly I made the step.
We chatted for a minute before trudging off to aim for the summit of Pavey Ark. We stumbled along with our new friends and came to a broader ridge and yet another step! Bob said that we should have a look around the side of the stones to see if there was another way. All of a sudden the shout went up that there were footprints heading off up the side of the hill, and the direction looked a whole lot easier than the one the five men were attempting.
I had glimpsed the top of Pavey Ark and decided that I needed to get out of the horrible wind. The spindrift was getting to be a right pain, and what’s more it was past lunch and I was starving.
Out came the axe again and my head went down. I wanted just two things: to get to the top and to get out of the wind! However, the snow was very soft and the axe was useless for cutting steps. I needed to get out of the wind, possibly more than I have needed anything when I have been on the hills! The footprints I was following were disappearing rapidly, and with my head down and the force of the wind, I kept wandering off-course. I had to constantly check my route, and although the route wasn’t that steep, the deep snow and the wind contrived to sap my strength quickly.
All of a sudden the slope levelled out and became a gentle rise with mounds of stones and rocks to each side. I took time to search for a place sheltered from the evil wind; the larger group of rocks to the right looked best and so I aimed for them. I suddenly remembered that Jeannie and Bob hadn’t made the top with me!
It seemed like ages before Bob came over the rise and then a while later Jeannie plodded into view. Bob shouted to her to aim for my position. Over they came and slowly dropped down behind the rocks. By this time my sack was already open and I was searching for my flask and its soup.
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| The obvious lump of Harrison stickle |
We ate a quick lunch then walked over to the summit of Pavey Ark to take in the view…such as it was! Not a lot to see. Fortunately the snow had stopped and the wind eased for a while. The clouds then cleared a little to offer a quick glimpse of the Tarn below. It was enough, and without many words we turned on our heels and headed for the obvious lump of Harrison Stickle.
The going was better. Although the snow was deep it was a lot easier than before. The only problem we encountered was every so often finding a big puddle of mud UNDER the snow. I got trapped once, but poor Bob managed to get both feet soaked. Jeannie however fared much better…she was not heavy enough to go through the ice!
We quickly made Harrison Stickle’s summit. Here the view came out for us. The snow stopped and even a little bit of blue sky was there for us to enjoy, however, Bow Fell was still shrouded in its own cloud. There was time for a few piccies of the troops, and a couple of the view.
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| Pavey Ark: Not so bad from here |
From our new vantage point, Pavey Ark looked a doddle! How had we struggled to climb that? Then I thought, it hadn’t been the actual climb that had been difficult. On a spring or summer’s day, Easy Gully would have been an entertaining, fairly straightforward scramble. However, in those conditions, it had become a full-blown mountaineering adventure. “Grade 1 winter climb, I think,” said Bob. “Bloody hard work!”
The reality of the situation there came home to me. If those guys hadn’t come along with their rope, things could have been suddenly VERY serious. The enormity of my first day out in winter hit like a hammer. It hadn’t felt overly dangerous at the time, but there had been plenty of scope for it to go wrong. We hadn’t thought through all the options. We didn’t have to have climbed Pavey Ark by either of those routes, as the map showed a longer, but easier walking ascent around to the north east of the Ark. Perhaps a bit of summit fever had taken hold, perhaps we had been over confident. We had made it safe, but the lessons were there to be learnt.
Pike Of Stickle was calling and the wind was picking up again. In fact the wind and the spindrift were getting very bad again. Although Pike Of Stickle looked close, the conditions made to drive it away again! It was one step forward two back again for a short while until we gained some cover behind Loft Crag.
“We’ll come back for that one” said Jeannie, and we headed directly for the Pike. There’s a gap between the lump of Loft Crag’s ridge and the heap of rock that is Pike Of Stickle, and the wind was howling through it. I decided to make a dash and got across just in time. Jeannie, however, did not fare so well. The ferocity of the wind pushed her over, and she managed to smack her shin into some rocks. Each time she got up she was blown back down again: Four times in all, before the wind eased enough for her to get across the gap.
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| Your author |
After a mini scramble we made the summit. And what a summit it is! Lots of views, clear sky, light wind, and NO SNOW! A group of chaps were smoking a crafty fag at the summit. We chatted for a few minutes about our routes, and I looked about the sky. I didn’t like the look of the lay of the clouds. Bow Fell had gone completely, hidden by a thick grey blanket, which was heading our way.
The gentleman we’d met in Easy Gully was there, and he spoke to Bob and I. “I think the weather’s going to break very soon.” It began to get windy again.
“It’s certainly time to get off this top,” said Bob. We all quickly lifted our sacks and descended.
We skirted the base of Loft Crag’s ridge. Bob was keen to take in the top, but Jeannie and I weren’t sharing his enthusiasm. We debated it for a while, and in the end there was a sort of informal vote. Bob lost and we won. We headed off down leaving it for another day.
As we got level with Loft Crag, the blizzard hit. Fortunately it was at our backs but the snow was heavy and every so often it was a complete whiteout. Out came the map and I took a sighting of our position during a short break in the blizzard. Bob concurred with my positioning. We followed the line of the path through the snow, but it was easy to lose, and we had to keep checking ourselves back onto it.
I descended quickly, using a gliding technique I’d seen from a guy who’d passed me earlier. I turned around and saw Bob helping Jeannie along. Her smile was still there…just! I was pretty sure of the path to follow, so much that it developed into a bit of tunnel vision. I reached a spur and was just about to set off down the right side of it when Bob pointed out that the path “goes to the left doesn’t it?” He was right; the path clearly led off that way.
Very soon the snow started to thin out on the ground. The falling snow got wetter and turned to rain causing our spirits to sag for the first time. Then I caught site of the New Dungeon Ghyll Hotel. I could see the lights welcoming us into it. The snow on the ground turned to slush as we made our last crossing of the stream, and tramped soggily into the NT car park. Some form of comfort was soon restored with warm and dry clothes (and shoes) from the car and a pint in the Pub!
Thanks Jeannie and Bob. It was a great day: My first day out in full-on winter conditions. Snow is a great leveller on the hills. It wipes clear much of man’s marks and returns it to as near a proper wilderness as we can get in this world now. It sharpens the senses and provides so many lessons. One winter day is, in my humble opinion, worth ten summers’ days for experiences. And I for one can’t wait for the next one…I only hope that Jeannie and Bob don’t mind if I tag along with them!
© Alex Ford 2002
