l6 
LAND & WATER 
On British Peaks 
By William T. Palmer 
August : , 1 91 7 
NOT so long ago one rarely read about anv 
European peak which was less than ten thousand 
feet in height. The Chamoni?f Aiguilles, the 
stormy Shreckhom, the ridges of the Matter- 
horn among the Alps, tke heights of Arctic Nor%vay, 
the dolomite crags of the Austrian Tyrol, and the snow- 
passes of the Caucasus were the literary fashion. There 
was a taste for sensation too, as well as for magnitude. 
The past generation found no unclimbed mountain within 
the four seas of Britain ; few rock-routes remain unconquered 
lor the ne.xt comers. Still, our home peaks possess charac- 
ter, magnificence of shape if not of mere bulk, and adventures, 
such as the breaking of a snow-corftice, the avalanching of 
a gully or a shower of rock fragments have only to be sought 
to be found. 
Many of the highest British peaks go smoothly up, and 
finish "in neatly rounded, uninteresting " paps." Others 
are great rolling waves tipped with foam of crags and flecked 
with scree. Others again are merely tilted edges of upland. 
Some peaks are fierce of appearance, jerking up in savage 
horns and spikes, or presenting forbidding ramparts, or rising 
in graceful spires. • One gets surprises at times. The greatest 
thrill one has vet experienced on an open British peak was 
the surmounting of Glyder Fach, in North Wales. One had 
strolled from Gorphwysfa (on the pass of Llanberis) up into 
soft rolling masses of summer cloud. Glyder Fawr was duly 
located, after which, across alternate stretches of gravel, rock 
and grass, one took a compass course for the twin peak. A 
hump of broken crag was met and scaled, then to the left 
one saw the spike of stones which apparently marked the 
summit. For a minute the mists folded closely about one.hiding 
everything in a grey smother. Then there was a brightening 
and the curtain whirled aside. The climber stood on the 
lip of a mighty crevasse, up the black walls of which the mist 
was rolling and spraying. That further point discovered 
itself as a shattered '' Tower of Pisa " leaning over a gulf. 
In sunshine the scene would have been interesting ; against 
that grey, swirling background it was deeply impressive. 
Easy Climbs 
On the majority of British peaks easy routes simply shout 
at the rambler. One has to improvise considerably to get a 
climb as lively as say Striding Edge on Helvellyn. Snowdon 
and Skiddaw, Cross Fell and Ben Nevis are pretty much alike 
in weakness of ascent. Red Screes and the Peak, Plinlimmon 
and Ingleborough, Cader Idris and Ben MacDhui, Ben Lomond 
and Tinto Top can be ascended with little difficulty, even on 
donkey back. Kinder Scout and others of the South Pennine 
are difficult to locate — their tops are mere tufts of turf tilted 
a few inches above a mile of level moorland — and difficult 
of access. The way is cut across by scores of deep rain channels 
worn into the soft peat. One mile per hour is swift progress, 
for each trench may be a dozen feet in depth, thirty feet wide, 
with steep and slippery slopes, and one scrambles up to the 
heather just in^time to step back into the ne.xt hollow. 
Moreover, these channels criss-cross in the maddest fashion, 
and hold scores of mud pools to entrap the unwary. 
The peaks of Tryfaen give possibly the best scrambles 
south of the Border. One prefers the traverse from north to 
south where the route dodges in and out of steep crags and 
outcrops, where variations of more or less severity are always 
tempting, but even the easiest route — that from the west 
^gets up a stiff, broken face. The actual peak is the higher 
of two rock-teeth which stand, a few feet apart, above the 
bouldery cone. The view east toward Capel Curig has as fore- 
ground a few gaunt pinnacles and perched boulders, then a 
tremendous pit in which one sees the peregrine and raven 
floating apparently in suspense. In one of the ancient 
guide-books it is stated that an elated companion leapt 
several times from one rock-column of Tryfaen to the other. 
The exercise is possible — at three thousand feet one expects 
exhilaration, but personally one would not risk a bad fall 
in such a pursuit. To sunnount the last ten feet of Tryfaen 
one must use the hands — it is the only peak south of the 
Border where such a method is absolutely necessary. 
Crib Goch suffers from being an outlying ridge of the Snow- 
don peak — but really it should be counted as separate and 
satisfying. Many years ago a visitor likened its crest to a 
mile-long tight rope done in rock, along which the daring 
. might crawl, glancing right and left to see, far beneath, the 
bleached skeletons of those predecessors who had failed in the 
journey. Crib Goch. is not really dangerous as this. The 
white patches arc merely outcrops of felspar, and accidents 
along the summit are few and far between. In a gale or 
under thin snow its narrow, rocky ridge might possibly be 
dangerous, but even at such times one may walk serenely 
beneath the crest, using the topmost ledges for handhold, 
and avoiding the " Crazy " and all oth^r pinnacles. 
Turning to Xoimbrian peaks one has much to say 
about variety.' There are some glorious mountain 
forms. The'ifftnest ascent of all is (ireat Gable, 
between \\'asdak and Enncjrdale. The retreat from 
this peak may be quite awkward in misty weather. 
Though no cliffs' intrude on the direct path, there are plenty 
within easy reach, and most of the tiny cross-ridges slope 
down to a false buttress and a sheer descent. Bo\yfell, 
above Langdale, is another fine peak. Its magnetic iron- 
stone ledges make the compass unreliable, a factor which is 
not always appreciated until the party is benighted as well 
as befogged. Scafell Pipe, -the highest point of England, is 
not distinguished among others except for its roughness and 
for a possibly sporting route up beside Piers Ghyll. 
Its nortli face has given Scafell a reputation as wide as 
the world of mountaineering. A series of huge rock-towers, 
split off by almost inaccessible chimneys, has provided en- 
thusiasts with a new craft. But oh! that the long 
hummocky grass-slope from Burnmoor and Eskdale did not 
exist. To climb even the simplest route on the north 
face — Broad Stand — is a task to the novice. 
The ascent threads up thirty feet of naked rock, then swings 
out to the left where for a few feet one scrambles astride the 
rib which walls in the Mickledore chimney. The gloomy 
depths of this, and the vista of Esk foaming two thousand 
feet below, scares off many an adventurer. Without a rope 
the climb is really none too safe for any but the experienced. 
One has reason to believe that any ancient dalesman who 
assailed this cliff worked out to the right instead of the left of 
the famous ridge, taking something near the line re-discovered 
in the North or Penrith Climb. From the great rift of Mickle- 
dore there is another fine route to the peak of Scafell. This 
is the steep and laborious Lords Rake, a screes shoot which 
may be varied by an ascent up the broken West A\'all — a 
piece of rock-scrambling' which is safe and introduces one to 
scenery of the wildest possible type. 
The Scottish peaks are equally interestitig to the rambler, 
though most present the usually easy slopes. There are, 
however, some not so accommodating. There is Sgurr nan 
Gillean in the Black Coolin of Skye, up which the " tourist 
route," is even mildly exciting. Now-a-daj's, the way is well- 
marked by boot scratches, and on a clear day the rambler 
needs no other guide. Such a one must avoid all pinnacles 
and carefully descend one or two gaps where the penalty of a 
miss-step means certain death. Sgurr nan Gillean is a jewel 
to the mild type of mountain-lover — the man whose tastes 
carry him no further into the inner presence than can be 
managed without ingenious balancing and strong "head 
work. One may see much, even of the wild Coolin, without 
actually getting to grips with sheer walls . 
On the mainland of Scotland, one finds less sensational, 
but still satisfactory, peaks. There is Suilven, a great sugar- 
loaf in the far North, which from a distance looks impregnable. 
Indeed, the rock-front only surrendered within thepast seven 
years to expert assault, but there is a slash right down the 
cliff, a deep furrow- floored mainly with grass which robs the 
ordinary ascent of terror. As already indicated, Ben Nevis 
has an easy side though the north face with its patches of 
eternal snow and its great rock-towers is still partially 
untested. 
There is one peak above Glencoe which should be remembered. 
Bidean nam Bian may be traversed without finding any great 
difficulty, but its out-lier, Stob Coire an Lochan, gives a real 
climb. "It is steep, it is narrow, it is rough, and the route 
winds between great slabs of rock and awkward stone-shoots. 
A slight touch of snow makes the climbing extremely severe , 
as one had proved, though the hard-packed masses after a 
hard winter rather assist than hinder the attacker. 
Right through the mountains of Britain one finds the beau- 
tiful as expressed in contour, the grand as shown in mighty 
cliffs, the sensational as typified in towers and pinnacles 
Compared with the Alps, the heights are small, but the 
pleasure is none the less. One also is less in the hands of the 
professional programme-maker and guide ; there is more 
independence of route and course, and the beauties are both 
supreme and continuous. There is no wearying drag up 
leagues of moraine, no hours on moderate snow slopes where 
beauty does not exist. One gets to grips with the peak at 
once, and afterwards, turning one's back, there is no terrible 
slog back to civilisation. 
