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Year of publication 1960 - Fell and Rock Climbing Club

Year of publication 1960 - Fell and Rock Climbing Club

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Terry Sullivan 39here things went unsteadily by alternate leads to a junctionwith the traverse <strong>of</strong> Route 2.Breaking through the overhangs above was the crux <strong>of</strong> theclimb. A very awkward step is made, without h<strong>and</strong>holds,on to a flake. This leads to a smooth slab which is climbedwith more faith than friction. Now, with one pitch to go, thetension was at its highest. I climbed the 'spiky arete' <strong>and</strong>from the 'bulge' I could see the finish. The most tired personin the world could have done that last little layback, <strong>and</strong> theclimb was over. Without hesitation I say it is the finest routeI have ever done.Three weeks later I was back. Sassenach for the Sassenachswas the theme. The principal feature <strong>of</strong> the climb is a hugediedre, the entrance to which is barred by a big ro<strong>of</strong>. Theclimbing is quite reasonable until just below the ro<strong>of</strong>. Heremy two friends <strong>and</strong> I surveyed the problem.Laden with slings, I attacked the initial crack. The firststep was to st<strong>and</strong> in a jammed knot sling; this brought anothersling into reach. But this second one was old <strong>and</strong> tatty <strong>and</strong>there was no room for another. I looked at the sling, lookedat the belay, breathed deeply, pulled up, <strong>and</strong> promptly hit myhead on the ro<strong>of</strong>. An etrier was clipped in <strong>and</strong> I 'rested.'The more I looked at the sling, the worse it appeared, so,deciding that the situation was bad for my nerves, I left forthe 'safety' <strong>of</strong> a chockstone about 10 feet to the left. Anothersling went round this <strong>and</strong> more etriers were clipped in to giveboth rest <strong>and</strong> security. A look round the corner, <strong>and</strong> I saidto myself:'Ah, layback on that flake, st<strong>and</strong> on the ledge <strong>and</strong>I'm up.' I stepped up <strong>and</strong> started laybacking; the flake wasloose. Back in the etriers, I viewed the situation again. Butthere was no other way. With pr<strong>of</strong>ound respect for the flake'sstability, I tried once more <strong>and</strong> it went: the pitch, I mean; theflake is still there to my knowledge.As I was bringing up Alan <strong>and</strong> Peter,* black clouds beganrolling in <strong>and</strong> the wind was increasing; when the three <strong>of</strong> usviewed the big diedre, the rain was lashing at us. After ahurried conference we decided to go on, so I put my socksover my rubbers <strong>and</strong> started up. The way led up, past, <strong>and</strong>over the biggest, loosest <strong>and</strong> dirtiest flake in the world. Allthree <strong>of</strong> us found this part most harrowing, but except forthis one short passage the rock was quite good. As we gained* Alan Parkin <strong>and</strong> Peter Drake (J.M.C.S.).

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