© J A D Healey 2014
We went by road to Newhaven, where we should have met the others, but, being bank holiday weekend, they were sent to Boulogne, as those boats were less crowded and we did not see them until we arrived in Paris. Four of us crossed Newhaven/Dieppe – Arthur from Worthing and David, who had not bothered to find the others in London as the station was so crowded. At Dieppe we waited for the next boat to come in, in case the others were on it, but as they were not, went on to Paris, by the next train, in a carriage with some Americans who were very interested in our tour. At the Gare St. Lazarre, there was no coach to take us to the Gare de Lyons, so we took a taxi. Opposite the station we found the Café Européan and had our dinner in a room full of Holiday Fellowship people.
Before catching our train, we went for a short walk, admired the flowers in a garden nearby. At the station our party were separated from those going to Annecy and other places, and we boarded the train to Geneva. In my carriage, there were David, John, Paddy, Robin and a French woman, who slept on the rack the whole night.
I took out my knitting, but lost a couple of needles and had to start the top of the sock on two needles. For some time they put me on the rack, but it was very uncomfortable. By the time it became light, we were among the hills. At Geneva we were met by Tiny who had had a week in the district.
After a wash and brush up, we had breakfast, and then went over the League buildings. A guide who spoke English took us round. The different rooms and halls have been decorated by different countries; the mural paintings over the doors of the assembly hall are four different concepts of peace and are by French artists. In this room there is a device which enables the speech to be heard in different languages at the same time as it is being given (with prepared speeches).
The wall decoration of the council chamber was given by Spain; on the ceiling five hands grasping each other represents the solidarity of peoples. After seeing this, we went back to the town and had a really marvellous lunch.
In the afternoon we went down to the lake and caught a boat to Evian les Bains. Although it was sunny, the lake was not particularly blue. We saw the mountains in the distance, but I was half asleep most of the time. We called at lots of villages and were on the boat several hours. We looked round Evian and then walked two miles along the road to the hostel at Maxilly-sur-Leman. They put up beds for us in another room (or rather we had to put them up) and until they were ready, we used the men's dormitory. Some bathed before dinner, but I was too lazy. We washed in what reminded me of a pig's trough.
I did not think much of dinner; I was not used to the bread and the meat was so tough. What we did like were the peaches we had for dessert.
We started out up through Maxilly Village and continued ascending; we went through St. Paul and then took an old road and descended to the Dranse, having lunch just the other side. After lunch we walked along the road to the Gorges du Pont du Diable. Here we paid and went down to see the Devil's Bridge. It is all commercialised with steps cut out and handrails, but worth seeing. The bridge is a huge piece of rock, wedged between the two sides of the ravine.
We caught a bus to Le Biot where we were staying two nights. We slept in a house some way up the village street, but washing and eating in the hostel. In the hostel there was the only shower of the whole tour, and that was not too good, as the floor became flooded.
We arrived about 3 o'clock and so a French boy, Pierre, offered to take us for a walk. We set out towards the abbey, which it seems everyone visits as soon as they arrive, but before we got to it, Pierre suggested that we should climb. There were lots of loose bits of scree and large slabs of rock and further up trees, but he promised us an easy way down. We went up as far as the trees and then started going along through them, getting rather scratched. After some time, we reached a spur of rock running down; by now we realised that Pierre knew no more about it than we did, so Pierre and Tiny went off to explore, for there was another ridge of rock similar to the one we were on, a little way further round. Tiny decided that it was too difficult for us so we had to come back the way we came. On the way down a piece of rock fell down and would have hit Pierre in the middle of his back, had he not jumped right up into the air; it knocked his ankle, bruising it.
On the way, I saw my first gentians, growing wild. At the hostel we found there was a party of N.U.S. people and we all had dinner together.
In the evening, the French boys wanted a dance, so we went along to a place in the village and were given wine; they put on the gramophone and a few started to dance, but then the N.U.S. people tried to sing, so we left them to it.
We slept quite well, except that we were woken up in the middle of the night by something scuffling across the floor. Stella stayed awake for three or four hours, afraid that it was a rat and would eat the bread in her rucksack, but in the morning we found a cat asleep by the side of my bed.
It was not a very nice day, but we set out for our first climb and reached the Col du Corbier (4000 ft.). Here at the hut we dumped our rucksacks, but while they were arranging for John to stay behind and get lunch ready, it started to rain, so we waited and, as it did not stop, we decided to have lunch first. They got the fire alight and cooked an omelette and made coffee. After lunch we passed the time by singing, and playing such games as "I have a bright idea". Some also chopped wood with a broken chopper.
When it stopped raining, we set off up through the woods, the tracks kept petering out, but we made our own where necessary. Soon it started to pour with rain, so we sheltered, and then went down to the hut again. We found some very short, short-cuts down to Le Biot. After dinner there was a bit of a sing-song.
We caught the 8 o'clock bus and rode as far as Morzine. Here we bough fruit and then ascended to the Col de Jouplane (5,700 ft.), at the top of which we had lunch. There was a hut from which we hoped to get milk to drink, but they were making cheese with it all and would only sell us beer and lemonade.
After lunch, we started descending by the path, but then Tiny came to the "recommended short cut" and we got down in ten minutes and saved two miles along the road. At one place there was a sort of cliff and those behind started throwing their rucksacks over. Rene threw hers and could not find it for a long time; at last Ernest went up again and found it in a bush.
We continued down, taking a few more short cuts to Samoëns where we bought snow glasses and then went in and had tea and some delicious cakes. We met the Samoëns party and took the train with them to Sixt from where we walked to Salvigny to the hostel where we should have been staying. Here we had our dinner and, while we were waiting for it to be prepared, for we were very early, we washed in the village trough, much to the amusement of the passers by. I even had my hair washed.
Our dinner was delicious and we were ready for it, although it was only about 4 o'clock. It was a pleasant change from the burnt soup and the rest of the dreadful things we had had at Le Biot.
We then ascended to the Chalet des Fonds (4,600 ft.). At Samoëns we had picked up the guides, immediately christened by David, 'George and Margarite'. George was our guide and we followed him up to the Chalet. We had the most glorious views on the way up, firstly of rocky mountains with waterfalls and then the snow mountains of the Mont Blanc range came into view and we saw the sun setting over them.
As it grew dark, the moon and stars grew extraordinarily bright. We found that the chalet was an hotel and there were comfortable beds (with sheets). Stella and I slept together. Before going to bed, we had a cup of chocolate and, while waiting for it, we grew very sleepy. The chocolate was so hot, that we took it up stairs and had it in bed. We had to undress by candle light – all the other places had electric light.
The beds were so comfortable that we did not sleep very well; we were not used to it. At 2.30 a.m. we were woken up by a party of four French people who were going and talking and laughing as loud as they could.
At 2.50 a.m. we were knocked with the Samoëns people and got up, but some of the others were not and they would not get up for a long time. After the others had gone, we had our breakfast and started.
We saw the sun rise over Mont Blanc as we were ascending Buet. We caught up with the Samoëns people before the final ascent and we stopped and had a little to eat. This was really silly as the next part looked quite impossible and some did not like sitting down and looking at the rocks. When we started we found the way up very easy – steps and hand rails even provided in places. The top was quite crowded, and we were up there before 10 o'clock.
In every direction the view was wonderful; there were a few clouds, but they did not obscure anything, only made some of the mountains more interesting. We had lunch (or was it a third breakfast) on the top. Our food was not at all interesting and the Samoëns people, who had melons and all kinds of nice things, went as far away from us as they could. After George and Margarite had spent a solid hour and a half eating and drinking at our expense, we started to descend – through the snow. I could not keep on my feet. At the first chalet we stopped for ages and drank and drank and drank. We then continued down to the road and had some tea in a café.
As per instructions I wore my slacks, but they were so hot that I had them tucked up most of the time. We went in the bus with the Samoëns crowd to Chamonix where they got out and we were taken on to our hostel outside the town where Tiny told us we would have to sleep in the hay, but there was no room for us, so Tiny walked into Chamonix and found room for us in the hostel there. He brought a bus back to fetch us.
We had to sleep on very hard mattresses in a wooden trough – very uncomfortable. The washing accommodation consisted of only two bowls in a trough for everyone, but in a field across the road, there was the usual open air trough and we mostly used this at first for the clothes we washed and then ourselves.
We had dinner outside and, as every vegetable was served as a separate course, it lasted for hours and it was quite dark before we had finished.
This was an off-day; in the morning we looked round Chamonix and did some shopping, and then had a bathe. I thought the water would be glacier water and freezing cold, but it was much warmer than the sea. We swam across to the island and lazed in the sun for some time. We met the others and then had a marvellous lunch in Chamonix.
In the afternoon we paid 34 francs and went by train to the Mere de Glace. I got on the observations platform.
We walked along the Glacier for some way and then ate a melon before returning just in time to catch the train back. We saw lots of professional looking people coming down the glacier, with ice axes and rope and guides, and lipstick.
Back at the hostel we again had dinner in the garden in the dark. David was chief waiter and he showed us what 'Native Charm' could do. He found that by asking for food 'pour les Anglais' he was served immediately.
Nine of us (Ellen, Rene and I) had breakfast at 6 o'clock and then started out; at the station we stopped and Tiny arranged for our rucksacks to be sent to Les Houches – the best 30 francs worth of the whole tour he decided later. With only two rucksacks, with food, we ascended Le Brévant, by the zigzag tracks. At one point we disappointed Tiny, for the zigzag track led to the left and a direct track to the right and we all voted for the zigzag track. At the hut above the first station we stopped and had some milk and soda, and then went on to the top – handrails and steps again for the last bit over the rock. At the top, we had lunch; it was crowded as lots of people had come up by train.
Our lunch include 'oeufs' but they were not hard boiled and most of them broke in the rucksacks on the way up. Tom had left the eggs he had been carrying all week for the others to have for breakfast.
During lunch we had wonderful views of Mont Blanc and the Needles. Tiny found them all on the map, but it was when we were a little way down that they were best; there was a line of cloud going along them all. We had a marvellous time coming down; the path zigzagged, but Tiny cut off the corners. I slipped quite a bit on bilberry plants and such like, but it was great fun. We arrived at the bottom at Les Houches and made our way to the railway station and recovered our rucksacks and ate a melon. Mercy found us and took us to the café where the others, and Henrietta, who came with them from Chamonix to Montivon, had spent the day.
We left Les Houches and ascended the Col de Voza (5,500 ft.). The track up was like a real Sussex one through mud. At the top it was too late to think of an extension and so we followed the railway track down to Montivon. The last party had had great difficulty in finding the hostel, some of them landing up in St. Gervais, but Tiny had no difficulty in finding it. There weren't enough beds, but we were quite used to sharing.
The place was swarming with animals – cats, dogs (bread eaters) and rabbits. There was a trough outside in which we washed – in bathing costumes. I borrowed Robin's as Rene and I had left ours in Chamonix.
We had dinner outside; it included bilberries which we practically lived on for the next three days. In the evening we played knock-out whist with 10c. pieces. During dinner, the alpine glow over the snow mountains was wonderful.
After breakfast in the open we set off to climb Tête Rousse (10,700 ft.), while two or three went down to St. Gervais.
We went up the railway track to the Col de Voza; a little further up we passed a place for testing aeroplane engines. We continued ascending, sometimes by the railway and sometimes by other tracks to the chalet at the end of the railway where we had lunch, buying milk to drink with it. Further back, Stella had lost her purse and, although she went back to look for it, she could not find it.
After lunch we continued to ascend, passing over several patches of snow, although most was loose rock. At the chalet we drank chocolate and, after admiring the view (for we were above the mist, just below the Aiguille de Goûter), we had a fine time sliding down a snow slope. We had a great time coming down, running over the snow patches and then taking short cuts over the rest – and trying not to knock down half the mountain. At the railway it was amusing to see people coming down out of the mist from every direction. Going down we all looked for Stella's purse, but of course we did not find it.
Back at the hostel we were met by John who had spent the day washing, and then haymaking, for which services he had been given beer.
We left Montivon and continued down the railway for a little way before branching off to Bionnay where we caught a bus to Notre Dame de la Gorge, from where we walked up a path paved with stone, over a fine gorge at one point, to the Chalet du Nant Borrant (4,800 ft.). Here we had our lunch and then were shown our rooms; we had single beds and I have never seen such comfortable looking ones. I was with Stella and Madge.
In the afternoon we walked up to the Col du Bonhomme, Tiny finding some rock scrambling to do on the way. At the Col (7,760 ft.), there was some snow with which we played; at the end Tiny took off his shirt and lay in the snow – quite mad.
We had kept passing some soldiers; we had come in the same bus and then walked up to the col. Every five minutes or so, they would stop and have a drink. They were having a fine time; they were supposed to be looking for deserters. Coming down I started picking flowers, for there was a wonderful assortment in that valley. Tiny found more scrambling to do.
I washed in a bathing costume in the stream, and have never been in such cold water; I went in it three times. After a really delicious dinner, we started singing. Tiny said we need a choir practice for 'Madam Guillotine' would expect us to sing the next night. By the time we had finished we were so sleepy that all we could do was stagger upstairs to bed.
After a very good night, we got up and ascended to the Col du Joly (6,660 ft.) where we had lunch and drank milk from a hut nearby. After lunch we followed the route recommended for a 'strong party' and ascended a steep grassy slope to Les Aiguilles (8,270 ft.). From here we continued along the ridge to Mont Joly. It was misty and about nine times we reached the top of a little hillock and thought it was the top of Joly, only to find a larger hill ahead.
At the top of Mont Joly (8,400 ft.) we ate cheese – giving a piece to a Frenchman whom we had kept overtaking on the way up. Several times the mist cleared and we were able to see the Mont Blanc range. While Tiny went back for some of the others, we descended to a chalet and had some dreadful tea. We then all followed Tiny down to the hostel at Champoutant; we kept together, as the hostel would have been easy to miss.
At the hostel there were two larger beds in which two of us slept together, but there was still only room for eight, so Stella slept with the men. She would have been all right had not Tiny told us tales of François, who had slept with them last time – and now Stella was having his bed. The woman had been a cook in England for five years and could speak English. 'Madame Guillotine' described her exactly.
After a marvellous dinner, the woman and her husband washed up and we all helped in wiping up and kept Madame Guillotine amused by singing. We went all through 'Green Grow the Rushes O', but her favourite was 'Under the Lilac' and she had copied down the words of this from the last party, who had been very good singers.
Later we all sat down and sang. The French people made a great fuss about getting songbooks and singing their songs, but they did not get very far.
We got up quite early and I washed at the trough in Robin's bathing costume. Ellen gave me a shower bath, with a watering can. We also had some table tennis. For breakfast other people had some very nice looking red confiture, but all we could get was rhubarb jam.
By the time we left there was a thick mist, but we soon got out of it and it was really extraordinary to look back onto the mist and see the mountains coming out of it. We ascended a col a few hundred feet high, eating bilberries on the way, and from the top had almost our last views of Mont Blanc. We then descended into Megève where we spent most of the day. We bought a wonderful lunch for about 15 francs and spent all the afternoon looking round the place before having tea, which consisted (for me) of a cake (we had admired them before lunch) and an ice.
At about 6.30 p.m. we caught a bus; it was nearly full up when it reached us, but we all crowded on. Its brakes did not work at all well and when it went round corners, the wheels scraped against the mudguards. We rode in this contraption down the really beautiful Gorge de l'Arly. Occasionally there was a tunnel under the rock for the road.
We stopped at Les Fontaines d'Ugine and walked up to Ugine which is a very picturesque town on a hill.
The hostel was just like an English hostel; we even had to give in our hostel cards. The hostel is a large building, an old Chateau, with a baronial hall; there was a large library. We had to have our dinner in a restaurant some way away, and we were taken to it by a boy who wanted to know if we could speak Esperanto.
The red wine was on the house; it was dreadful stuff and we tried sugar with it, but that only made it worse.
We went by bus to Doussand, and in the village we bought our lunch – bread, which was still hot, butter, tomatoes, biscuits, tins of meat and pilchards, grapes and greengages, all for 4 francs each.
We took this with us while we walked along the road to the first opening we could find down by the lake. Here we bathed (I borrowed Robin's costume) and had lunch. After lunch, Robin thought she would bathe, so I used Frank's costume and Ellen's scarf.
Quite late in the afternoon, we went on again along the road to St. Jorioz, where we stayed at the Hotel du Pont Laudon. They put us in the house, in one room with three double beds and three mattresses on the floor. Tiny, David and Arthur slept in a tent in the garden and the others in the 'annex' – a disused cottage with moth-eaten blankets. The woman could speak some English.
For dinner, one of the things was macaroni cheese (delicious). As neither Frank nor Tom wanted any, two huge plates of Spinach were brought in for them. It was much more than they could eat, so we all benefited. In the evening, we played cards – Madame won 30 c. in Newmarket, but lost it all the next time. We also played with a thing for shooting ping-pong balls into a target.
The boat did not leave for Talloines before 10 o'clock,. but there was a bus at 7 o'clock, so we had breakfast at 6 o'clock and caught the bus riding to Bout du Lac. From here we walked round the end of the lake and along the other side. I could not keep up with Tiny along the road. Just before Talloines we turned up and went through Rovagny. We continued ascending through the woods, but they were cutting down trees and many of the paths merely led to the streams; twice we had to go back quite a way for the undergrowth was fairly thick. Above the trees, by a Chalet from which we obtained milk, we had a lunch.
We continued up to another chalet and then, after much discussion, Stella, Ellen, David, Tiny and I decided to go to the top. The others thought that it was too hot; also it meant missing the 5 o'clock boat back. We ascended by zigzag tracks to the top (7,890 ft.). Here we saw our last snow. The view towards Annecy was not very clear.
We came down the same way and at the chalet we each had two huge bowlfuls of milk – we needed it. We continued down, but went right into Talloines where Tiny got a motor boat to take us across. While we were waiting, we ate David's greengages and talked to the H.F. people in Talloines.
In the boat, Tiny divided the edelweiss he had bought at the chalet amongst us; they had said that it came from the top of La Tournette. The others had finished dinner by the time we arrived. After dinner we celebrated by having a couple of bottles of Savoie Sessile.
Robin and Tom were starting early, so we all got up quite early. While they were having breakfast, to pass the time, I went down to the lake and got back too late to be in the group photograph. We had breakfast at 8.30 and made the most of it, kept going out for more butter and confiture, and John kept cutting more bread.
We caught the bus into Annecy, where we left our rucksacks, and went to the post office, where most people had parcels and letters 'Poste Restante'. To claim these they had to produce their passports. We had meant to bathe, but the bathing pool was too far away.
We all met again at 12.00 and followed Tiny to the place he had chosen for lunch – what a meal. In the afternoon we did our shopping and then made our way towards the bathing place, but by this time it was cold and rough, so we did not bathe. We had an ice and then made our way back to the casino for tea.
After tea we collected our boots, which we had left to be nailed, did a little more shopping and bought the food for the train and then went back to the station. The train was two hours later than we thought. I produced my knitting and the wool was in such a muddle that everyone made a dive for it and helped untangle it. It was only broken once or twice.
In the waiting room, they took down a large notice pasted on a wooden board and used it for a table on which to play cards. I did my knitting, with the help of John and Tiny, who were just getting into it when our train came.
I was in a carriage with Ellen, Rene, Stella, Mary, Tiny and Frank. We ate most of the food we had brought and then prepared for the night. Tiny and Frank slept on the floor; they first put down newspaper and then most of their clothes and then lay down, head to feet. I knitted until I began to feel sleepy. I had not been able to afford a pillow so I shared Ellen's later on.
We arrived in Paris at the Gare de Lyons, and a bus took us, and the other H.F. people to the Gare St. Lazare. At a café opposite, we had breakfast, also a much needed wash. We had some time to look round and we bought some lunch, which consisted of bread, butter, pilchards, cheese and plums and cost 2 francs each. All the platforms were very crowded and so we had been very surprised to see Pierre, of Le Biot at the Gare de Lyons. As we were pushing through the crowds to get to our train to Dieppe, I remembered my boots and went back to the Café and fetched them.
In the train were Robin and Tom, who had been unable to get away earlier. We had our lunch just before we arrived in Dieppe. There were crowds waiting for the boats, all pushing and losing their tempers. Only six of us got in the first boat (Stella, Ellen, Rene, David and Arthur). We ate up the plums left from lunch and then went below to get a cup of tea and slice of cake.
At Newhaven, which we seemed to reach very quickly, the others went by the first train, without waiting for the next boat. I waited and said good-bye to the others.
I wore my boots through the customs and then walked about on the station in them.
BRYN CORACH, CONWAY, NORTH WALES
We left at
| Journey to: Bryn Corach,
Conway, North Wales | Time | Comments |
| Storrington | 9.40 | |
| Left Winchester | 11.45 | |
| Wherwell | 12.02 | |
| Andover | 12.13 | |
| Charlton | 12.18 | |
| Weyhill | 12.23 | |
| Ludgershall | 12.30 | |
| Collingbourne | 12.32 | |
| Burbage | 12.43 | Had lunch; and went on again at 1.30. We went through part of Savernake Forest. |
| Marlborough | 1.42 | Passed the college. |
| Fyfield | 1.43 | Saw many grey weathers, tumuli etc. |
| West Kennet | 1.50 | Went up Silbury Hill. |
| Beckhampton | 2.10 | |
| Avebury | Saw the stores they were erecting. | |
| left at: | 3.10 | |
| Broad Hinton | 3.17 | |
| Wootton Basset | 3.27 | Passed the Market Hall, a timbered structure on stone columns. |
| Brinkworth | 3.38 | |
| Malmesbury | Saw some ancient cottages, the market cross, and went in the church, which was a Norman abbey (Benedictine) c. 1150. The part which is left is all out of proportion. | |
| left at: | 4.04 | |
| Long Newton | 4.10 | |
| Tetbury | 4.14 | Passed the stone Market Hall. |
| Avening | 4.33 | A very pretty Cotswold village. |
| Nailsworth | 4.34 | Several modern watermills. |
| Frogmarsh | 4.37 | A dovecot was being repaired. |
| Woodchester | 4.40 | |
| Lightpull | 4.41 | |
| Stroud | 4.45 | |
| Pitchcombe | 4.49 | Had tea. |
| continued at: | 5.40 | |
| Gloucester | 5.55 | (By-passed). |
| Longford | 5.56 | |
| Tewkesbury (left at:) | 6.30 | Passed over King John's Bridge. |
| Longdon | 6.40 | |
| Welland | 6.51 | |
| Malvern Hills | On the top of the Malvern Hills, we stopped and went up to British Camp. A large part of the hill is enclosed in a rampart, and the summit in a second rampart. | |
| left at: | 7.25 | |
| Ledbury | 7.37 | A timbered Market Hall, and detached belfry to the church. |
| Tarrington | 7.49 | |
| Hagley | 7.55 | |
| Hereford | 8.05 | |
| Woonton | 8.30 | |
| Lyonshall | 8.35 | |
| Kington | 8.40 |
Stayed for the night at the Royal Oak, last house in England; it is 14th century.
After admiring the very large pumpkin in the garden, and the little puppy, we left at 9.32.
| Journey to: Bryn Corach,
Conway, North Wales | Time | Comments |
| Presteigne | 9.46 | |
| Knighton | 10.00 | Memories of my cycling trip last year. |
| Knucklas | 10.06 | |
| We took narrow Welsh lanes, among the pretty hills. | ||
| Clun | 10.42 | |
| Lydham | 10.58 | |
| Church Stoke | 11.10 | |
| Chirbury | 11.15 | |
| Montgomery | 11.24 | |
| Welshpool (left at:) | 12.06 | Saw a lift bridge just before |
| Poolquay | 12.16 | |
| Llanymynech | 12.26 | |
| Oswestry | 12.35 | Called at Miss Price's. |
| left at: | 1.15 | |
| Gobowen | 1.19 | Saw canal viaducts. |
| Chirk | 1.30 | |
| Broncastell | 1.34 | Had lunch. Saw Castle Bron. |
| left at: | 2.15 | |
| Llangollen | 2.20 | |
| Corwen | 2.37 | |
| Maerdy | 2.45 | |
| Tynant | 2.50 | |
| Glasfryn | 3.00 | |
| Bettws-y-Coed | 3.20 | |
| Tal-y-Bont | 3.38 | |
| "Bryn Corach" | 4.30 |
I was in the house, in room 5; there were four others (the fifth had cancelled). Elsie and Kitty had been there a week. Hilda came from Harlech and Edith was starting her holiday.
After tea, Len told me to sign up for the two-day Snowdon; he had heard from Tiny.
In the evening we sat round in the common room and had a sing-song.
In the morning a bathing party went down to the Morfa; I only paddled.
In the afternoon we went for a ride along the coast, and then to Bethesda and back again over the Sychnant Pass – much to Mummy's disgust.
After tea there was a meeting for the Snowdon party; there are beds for 11, but as 14 of us wanted to go, Len said we would have to have a ballot. We left this until later as those who had been there a week had gone for a walk, and we were to wait until they came back. In the end there was no need, as three dropped out of their own accord.
In the evening there was a talk by Mr. Leonard and then singing.
We set out with those in their first week to do Tal-y-fan; we were led by Len and there were only about 26 of us.
We started off up the Sychnant Pass road and then turned off to the left and strolled along having a few rests (much needed?). At a quarry where there was a stream, we had lunch.
We continued up and at the top admired the view before descending. We followed the Roman Road into Rowen where we had tea. On the way home we went through a couple of fields of brambles and stinging nettles.
In the evening there were games and dancing in the dining room.
The eleven of us got up at 6.30 a.m. and had breakfast at 7.00m, and as early as possible went down to the schools where the bus was waiting for us (a 31-seater).
We rode through Aber and Bethesda to Idwal Cottage, from where we started to ascend Tryfan – a great improvement on the French mountains in that no hand rails etc. were provided.
On the top we spent a good while admiring the view; there had been mist drifting about, but it cleared. We descended to the col between Tryfan and the Glyders and then ascended Glyder Fach via Bristly Ridge. We had lunch on the top and then descended to Pen-y-Gwryd from where we walked along the old road, past the lake to Glanaber, where we had tea (Strawberries and Cream).
A helper from Bryn Dinas came up and told Len to phone up Bryn Corach. He did so after he had finished his tea and learned that he had to go back, but he took us up as far as the farm. There was a thunder storm, so we sheltered for a little while before continuing up to Cwm-y-Llan. We had to carry up the new saucepan.
Ron, Jim and Frank waited behind at the farm to collect our provisions; they were a long time, as they had to wait while the cow was caught and milked. There were no eggs, so some of them went down again later.
We lit the fires, got the blankets out to air, laid the table and started heating the water and then bathed – costumes are unknown at Cwm-y-Llan.
As soon as they were brought up from the farm, we washed the potatoes and started to boil them. We had dinner about 8 o'clock . There was cold lamb and potatoes, then pineapple, and plenty of tea to drink. After washing up I held the candle while Frank bricked up the window which had been pushed in, presumably by the people who took the axe and saw.
When they had come back from the farm, we all sat round the dining room fire and had our cocoa and then had a sing-song, also 'Dreaming of Thee' by Ron and 'The hole in the road' and others by Geoff. We went on long after the candles had burnt out. At about 12.20 we collected our blankets and went to bed.
We were woken up several times by the wood in the fire falling down, as the bottom of the logs burned through.
I got up at 6 o'clock and soon some of the others got up and lit the fire. Millie and I cooked the breakfast, which was eaten in relays as there was only one very small frying pan. As soon as the tea was made, a cup (mug) was taken into the other girls who were still in bed.
For breakfast there were Toasties, fried bacon and eggs and potatoes, and then toast and marmalade.
While we were clearing up, Ron put our names on about the only clear patch of ceiling. After sweeping the floors and disposing of the rest of the potatoes, and throwing away and reclaiming the butter, we set off at about 10.15 and ascended Snowdon by the Watkin Path. When we first got up we had a view, but the mist soon closed round. The day before we had had the most glorious views, of Snowdon, with no mist in sight.
We had our lunch and then our cup of tea (paid for by the H.F.) and then descended by the Pen-y-Gwryd Track, not going to the lakes, but keeping well up to the left. At one point we saw people crawling along Crib Goch on all fours.
The coach was waiting for us at Pen-y-Pass and we rode in it past Tryfan to the tea place, where, after a good tea, many photos were taken, and then rode home.
At Bryn Corach, we learned that we were to go to the Fol de Rols that evening instead of Thursday evening and that dinner was at 6.45. This meant that we could not have our bathe and I think some had to go without their hot baths.
We all got together in the back of a coach and at Llandudno we still stuck together and occupied the front seats. In the interval we all went out together onto the pier and were a little late in getting back. We sang on our way up to Bryn Corach from the town, but remembered to be quiet when passing "Wayside".
We all wanted to go with 'A' party, although (without asking us) they had packed our lunch with 'B' party. We bought some fruit and went with 'A'. We should have done the Glyders and then descended near the Devil's Kitchen, but it was so misty that Ron did not want to take us over Bristly Ridge and so we went up by the Devil's Kitchen. Here we had lunch, after having lit a fire, and then climbed up the Kitchen as far as we could. It was fine fun coming down over the slab with the help of 'human escalators'. We then went round to the top of the Kitchen and then across to see if there was a view towards Llanberis Pass, but there was not. After admiring a little frog, we descended the same way and were taken by the coaches to the same tea place as the day before.
In the evening we had our concert. It was really good, much better than the Fold de Rols. To finish, we had the Western Brothers. They do the thing frightfully well.
As they wanted to keep in touch with Bryn Corach, the excursion was run so that the lunch and tea places were changed round. This enabled Ron to phone up Conway from Betws-y-Coed where we had lunch. We rode to Gwydr Castle and then strolled along the hillside and down to Betws-y-Coed. We passed through a large area where the planted trees all appeared dead. Last year there had been a fire, which had lasted three days and was finally put out by the rain.
After lunch we walked along the left bank of the river, past the tea place to the Swallow Falls, where I paddled. I paddled with my boots on, as I was trying to break in my new ones. Some had hoped to bathe, but there was no time. After tea we crossed the Miners Bridge and picked up the coaches.
That evening Paddy and Jack were called back, and a good many more decided to go back. We went down to the station to see them off. They had a wonderful send off, with 'Dirty Old Bill' and finally Auld Lang Syne. We went back and sat round in the common room for a sing-song and a few solo items by Frank, who also conducted the sing-song.
At 11 o'clock about 20 of us sat round in 'Pansy Palace' for about three hours, for the rest of the night I slept in Bronwen (there was a spare bed in Joan's and Betty's room).
We had breakfast at 7.30 and, after saying good-bye to the few who were up, we left at 8.10.
| Journey home | Time | Comments |
| Betws-y-Coed | 8.40 | |
| Corwen | 9.15 | |
| Llangollen | 9.33 | |
| Chirk | 9.43 | |
| Whittington | 9.52 | |
| Shrewsbury | 10.30 | |
| Cross Houses | 10.44 | |
| Cressage | 10.49 | Went up Wenlock Edge. |
| Morville | 11.13 | |
| Bridgenorth (left at:) | 11.50 | |
| Shatterford | 12.07 | |
| Kidderminster | 12.20 | |
| Hartlebury | 12.26 | |
| Ombersley | 12.35 | |
| Worcester | 12.53 | Had lunch and continued at 1.25 |
| Drakes Broughton | 1.31 | |
| Pershore | 1.35 | |
| Bengeworth | 1.46 | |
| Broadway | 1.55 | |
| Stow on the Wold | ||
| Burford | 2.33 | |
| Filkins | 2.42 | |
| Lechlade | 2.49 | |
| Highworth | 2.56 | |
| Shrivenham | 3.06 | |
| Ashbury | 3.12 | |
| Upper Lambourne | 3.27 | |
| Lambourne | 3.30 | |
| Eastbury | 3.34 | |
| West Shefford | 3.38 | |
| Weston | 3.42 | |
| Newbury | 3.50 | |
| Headley | 4.07 | |
| Kingsclere | 4.10 | |
| Basingstoke | 4.25 | Had tea and left at 5.25 |
| Herriard | 5.35 | |
| Lasham | 5.38 | |
| Empshott | 5.53 | |
| Liss | 5.57 | Saw Harting Combe. |
| Ludgershall | 6.39 | |
| Ebano Common | 6.44 | |
| Kirdford | 6.52 | |
| Billingshurst | 7.02 | |
| Coolham | 7.10 | |
| Henfield | 7.30 | |
| Home | 7.40 | 302 miles |
I caught the 5.11 p.m. train from Preston Park; it was 20 minutes late in reaching Victoria, but I found Ellen waiting for me when I did arrive. After going home with Ellen and having supper, we went to Victoria and met Rene and Wyn, who had saved us seats in the train. Rhys also turned up. The train (10.55 p.m.) was late in starting; it was fairly crowded, with soldiers as well as climbers. At Crewe we had a cup of tea.
We arrived at Windermere at about 6.30 a.m. and, as the café that the others usually patronised for breakfast was not open, we walked along the road to the outskirts of Ambleside. It was very misty and I did not get the marvellous view that the others had had in previous years.
After breakfast we went to the bus terminus and caught the 9.30 bus to Dungeon Ghyll. From the bus stop we made our way to "Wall End", entering through the kitchen. We were met first by Chris and then by Tiny who took us to our huts.
We ordered packed lunches and set out as soon as possible; we were too late to go for the official excursion, even if we had wanted to join it. We went through Stool End Farm and admired a rainbow which stretched over Mickleden, from one side of the valley to the other.
We went up the Band in the mist and rain, and had our lunch in a sheltered place, then continued on up towards Bowfell. As we left the grass for the rocks, we came upon patches of snow which the others said reminded them of part of their Austrian tour.
Near the top, we came across Tiny, Rhys and the others who had set out to go 'fishing', but taking with them climbing ropes. They had wanted to get to the Bowfell Buttress, but could not get to it because of the snow in the gullies; we met them again half way down, as they were throwing stones down the fall in the Hell Ghyll.
We arrived back at "Wall End" in time to change into dry clothes before afternoon tea.
In the evening there was dancing and games; the dancing was not very popular, but some of the games were jolly and kept me awake.
Ellen and Rene were going climbing with Rod, so Wyn and I had packed lunches and started out with the main party. They had been going to go over the Langdale Pikes, but as it was misty, they kept along the valley, to the right hand side of the Beck. At Chapel Stile, we went along the road for some way and then down and between Grasmere and Rydal Water.
By this time Wyn and I had had enough of the flat and went off by ourselves up the hills to the north of Rydal Water. The map marked an aqueduct some way up the hillside and we went straight up the hillside, thinking we would follow the aqueduct along to the footpath, but we could find no sign of the aqueduct, so we continued up until we found the path. At one point we thought we saw a tarn, corresponding to Alcocks Tarn and so we had lunch, thinking that we still had a good climb in front of us, but when the mist cleared a little, we saw that it was only a patch of snow and that we were really well on the way to Heron Pike.
We went on to the next, unnamed summit, putting a lone walker from Fairfield on the right track. We descended by the left bank of Greenhead Ghyll and then round by Alcocks Tarn and then down to the road through some lodge gates where we were lectured for ages on how to run the country in war-time. When at last we got away, we went to Grasmere and then over by Silver How into the Langdale Valley and then to "Wall End".
In the evening we went out to see the northern lights; we then saw the moon rise and tried to see Wyn's lady of the moon.
Chris was taking a party to Gable, via the traverse, and Wyn and I were going, until Rod suggested that we might like to climb with him on Gable, instead of going to the top, but it would depend on the weather. Of course we were enthusiastic.
The morning was misty and wet, and so Rod suggested that we should go to Bowfell instead.
We went up the Band and round to the foot of the buttress. Remembering the snow from Friday, Rod took an ice axe, but it was not needed. We had lunch at the foot of the climb and then, after listening to Rod and Tiny saying that conditions could not be worse etc., we started up. Rod, myself and Alastair were followed by Tiny and Wyn. We were in the mist until we were half way down the Band and came out of it and saw the valley and distant hills in bright sunlight.
Memories of the Savoy on running down with Tiny and taking short cuts.
In the evening Trevor told us about the Welsh people and started many arguments.
This was an off-day, and as it was René's and Ellen's last, we were going up Pike of Blisco, until Tiny suggested that we should go with him up Middlefell Buttress. We were late in starting, as we spent a long time laughing at Rhys – he had willingly signed a form saying that he was going up Gimmer on his own responsibility etc. This was the first form signed for three years.
The day had started cloudless, not even any early morning mist and, as time went on, the sun became hotter. As there were quite a number of us, with only Tiny and Tom to lead, we spent a long time basking in the sun. We left out the first difficult part and did not have time for the last part. We came down the scree and got back in plenty of time for Ellen and René to pack; we then had tea (with that delicious chocolate cake). Wyn and I went with them to Ambleside – Tiny caused much amusement all dressed up, and with a hat.
As was expected, Rhys came running after the bus after it had started (minus rope and mac). It stopped for him. We caught the 6.45 bus back after buying gramophone needles, postcards etc.
After dinner we had a cricket match and then all joined in table tennis.
Chris was going for a 'mystery ramble' towards Harter Fell and Wyn and I were going with him, until Rod suggested that we should go with him climbing. At first he suggested Scafell and later to Dow Crag; instead he looked out a suitable climb from the book – called very difficult, almost severe.
We set out at 10 o'clock and went by Blea Tarn to the road by the Three Shire Stone, but left it before the stone and up Rough Crags. At the bottom Rod actually waited for us, but only to tell us that there were 2,000 feet of grassy slope to follow. We hurried on, over Carrs and Great How Crags, round Fairfield and then along the screes on the Goats Water side of Dow Crag.
We had lunch by a stream coming out of the rock, and then started up 'A' Buttress (Gordon's and Craig's route). It was exposed most of the way up, but not difficult, except for one patch near the top! When we were within about 60 ft. of the top it began to snow – peculiar to watch it over Goats Water and round Coniston Old Man.
We did up the ropes as soon as possible, and then hurried up to the top and back the way we had come, but we were facing the snow and had the greatest difficulty in keeping our eyes open. When the snow stopped we had tea, the sun came out and the view was wonderful with the thin covering of snow on the hills.
We did not spend long getting back to Blea Tarn – looked glorious, the water, woods, hills with dead bracken and the evening sun.
Chris was going to Scawfell Pike and, as usual, Wyn and I were going with him until Rod suggested a climb, but this time it was Pillar; we should have got there in 3½ hours and have 2 hours climbing there. Rod got out the books and looked out a suitable way up and down.
We had breakfast half an hour early and started out at 9 o'clock; we went at 4 miles an hour to Rossett Ghyll, but went at our own pace up the Ghyll. We went over Esk Hause to Sty Head and then along the Gable Traverse. Half way along, at 11.30, we stopped for a sandwich and then continued along and then down the screes (difficult going as we were going obliquely down, and the small stuff was frozen).
We skirted round to the north of Kirk Fell to the top of the Black Sail Pass. Here Rod suggested that it would take us so long to get back the way we had come, that we had better not go to Pillar. We went down towards Wasdale and had our lunch on the way in what we at first thought was a sheltered spot, but which soon became very cold.
We went up Lingmell Beck and then up Piers Ghyll. At one point we saw a raven's nest; Rod pointed it out – he had heard the young in it! At the top of Scawfell Pike (3.30 p.m.) we waited 20 minutes wondering whether we would see Chris's party, but we were too late. We then hurried down, for it was very cold (where our trousers were damp, they were frozen). We stopped for some tea on Esk Hause and then came down Rossett Ghyll to Wall End.
Today we really did go out with Chris; it was not at all strenuous, mostly playing about in the Ghyll.
Thirteen of us went up Oxendale and then up Browney Ghyll – in the gill, not on the path by the side.
We had great fun scrambling on the rocks; it was made better because many of the rocks had a coating of ice. Some of the icicles, especially those round blades of grass and on heather gave the most extraordinary effects.
At one point, Chris put the rope round us all as we went up. Tom, Matty and B fell in the icy water.
We had lunch half way up and then went to the top of Pike of Blisco and scrambled about on the rocks, using the rope for some of them. We had tea and then met Tom who had come up complete with alarm clock set at 6 o'clock, so that he would be sure to be down in time for tea.
We spent the evening having quiet drawing games.
We were going out for a last climb with Rod, towards Pavey Ark, so before breakfast I packed all I could and folded my blankets, but it snowed all day, so no-one went out. Chris had been going to Coniston Old Man.
We sat in front of the fire knitting and playing card games, such as pontoon.
Arthur, Monty, Wyn and I had an early tea and caught the 4.45 bus from D.G.
At Ambleside we had a quarter of an hour to wait for the bus, so I got some wool – I had to run for the bus. At Windermere we dumped our luggage and went for a walk in the rain, for as we left "Wall End", the snow turned to rain, towards Bowness, but we soon tired of it and returned to the town and had supper to spin out the time.
We caught the train at about 8.30 and travelled in comfort to Carnforth. Here we had 40 minutes to wait; we spent it in the waiting room, in front of a heap of coal in the fireplace. We got a carriage to ourselves, but at Preston four of the R.A.F. got in and we did not have much room.
We arrived at Willesdon at about 5.30 and from there walked to Acton and woke Ellen up. I slept soundly for a couple of hours and then Wyn had to get up to go to the office.
I then had breakfast and Ellen came with me to the station. While we were waiting for a train, Ellen phoned up the H.F. and found that there were still some vacancies for the Skye walking tours.
In the train I read the book that Ellen had lent me on rock climbing and mountaineering.
I arrived home at about 12.40.
I caught the 5.11 p.m. from Preston Park and arrived at Victoria about 6.40 where I met Rhys, with whom I went home to Wandsworth. We left quite early and arrived at Euston at about 9 o'clock. Rhys got his ticket and we passed the time in the refreshment room, before finding the train. The indicator said platform 13, but as the ticket collector said 14, we went there, only to return to 13 when an engine driver like person said platform 13.
We went the whole length of the platform and back again, put our rucksacks in a carriage and got out to look for the others. The lights went out, but we saw Ellen, who said that Rene and Wyn were having to work the next day. After we were nicely settled in the train, the loudspeaker started saying that the train on platform 13 was for Blackpool and Whitehaven, that it was platform 14 for Windermere, but we didn't bother to change, we were lucky to have seats.
The train started punctually, but crawled along and took 6 hours to get to Crewe – one place where it stopped it gave us a good view of the A.A. fire. At Crewe they did not seem to know anything about another train, so we stayed where we were until we got to Preston. Here, after a cup of tea we got in the train on the platform indicated. The loudspeaker started saying that the train was for Penrith and Carlisle, next stop Penrith, but we did not get out, and before we started it was announced that we would also stop at Oxenholm. At Oxenholm, as per instructions, we got out, only to be told to get in again. We finally arrived at Windermere at 9 a.m.
In half an hour we caught a bus to Ambleside, but we had of course missed the Langdale one, so we went on to Grasmere and walked from there over Silver How to our valley. We put on our boots but still found our rucksacks rather heavy. Looking back, the views towards Fairfield were wonderful, but the first view of our valley was rather a shock – we didn't recognise Lingmoor and began to wonder if we were right. We came down all right, at I suppose Pye Howe, and went along the old road to "Wall End" – arriving at about 12.30, just in time to be shown to our huts (Lingmoor for me) before lunch.
In the afternoon it rained so we stayed in. I read the Langdale log books, the other two went to bed. Rhys had forgotten his rope; this and the rain put him off Scout.
We had tea and then the others came back from the excursion; Jean (my room-mate), Mabel and Marion of last year were there.
Ellen and I had our own lunch, but went out with the party, with Gordon, but led by Jean who was hostess by now. After the first, we were in thick mist. We went up by Blea Tarn, kept to the west of it, then down, cross the River Brathay and then up to Rough Crags, mounting to the southeast of them. We had lunch at a sheltered spot and finished the sandwiches we had brought with us (we had not felt hungry at breakfast time yesterday).
We mounted over Carrs and Great Howe Crags (I suppose) and then dropped down. We realised we were wrong, but the others did not want to go up again, so we continued on down. We were surprised there were no precipices. We arrived at a tarn which we afterwards decided was Levers Water, and followed a track down past some copper works, down Church Beck to Coniston, where I bought some elastic for my hair. We went up the road and then by the track to Tilberthwaite for tea and home by Little Langdale and Blea Tarn.
We expected to see Wyn and Rene but they had gone out with Frank. Dinner was 7 p.m. because of the dance and half way through the three of them arrived. They had played on the snow on Bowfell (having an easy day as Ellen's note had suggested) and got down to Eskdale in the mist and had a dreadful race home; they were too tired for the dance.
Seven of us crowded into Gordon's car and went down to Chapel Stile for the dance, held at the Co-op Hall (a Turkish bath nowhere in it for heat!), and it was better not to be able to dance in all that crowd, but it was lovely and cool outside.
It was very wet; the party was going for a walk down the valley (Elterwater etc.), but Ellen, Rene, Wyn and I went for a short walk to the Langdales. We went up by the old hotel and along towards the new one, but then took a path up by the Dungeon Ghyll and went in to see the Force (it was worth the scramble up the ravine). As we continued to ascend, the rain came down; below Harrison we found a rock and got (we hoped) to the leeward side of it, but it wasn't much use and the rain soon started trickling down our necks, so we hurried with our lunch and then walked approximately northeast, while wondering where to go. The wind blew us along in places and there was hail with the rain. We went on, keeping north of Gimmer, and over a little boggy ground to the Stake Pass, from where we had a fine run back to "Wall End" for a bath.
It started wet again, so the four of us thought we would go to Keswick. We went along Mickelden and over the Stake Pass. By now it was fairly clear and we had good views down Langstrath. After lunch a little way down we continued on. How envious I was of the others who were discussing their Austrian tour. Looking back, Bowfell showed up fine, with the snow on it. At Rosthwaite, we started walking up towards Seatoller, meaning to go back by Grain Ghyll, but a bus passed us, going to Keswick, and stopped so we got on. Keswick on a bank holiday was terrible; hardly anyone with boots, and everywhere crowded. At one Boot shop we were looking in, the man came out and seemed quite glad to talk to us, although he must have known we hadn't £3.7s.6d. with us (the price of his boots).
We had tea at the bus station, as we could get in nowhere else, and then queued for the Kendal bus. We got in the third bus and went by Thirlmere to Grasmere. When at last I got a seat, I found I was setting next to Margery Dawson, who had been staying at Grange. We passed Helm Crag where we saw the 'Lion and the Lamb' change to the 'Organ'. From Grasmere, we walked over Silver Howe again.
We were going with Rene and Wyn with a rope to play on Blisco, but Frank, who was going home that evening, was going with the party to Gable, as far as there was time, and Ellen and I did the same. It was a lovely day; we went up Rossett Ghyll in the hot sun and admired the view from the top – marvellous. Then, by Angle Tarn (covered with sheets of ice) and over Esk Hause, by Sprinkling Tarn to the top of Sty Head for lunch (it was raining by now). We saw some of the Derwent Bank people, and then Ellen and I went along the traverse as far as the Needle and returned the same way as we went. We got to Wall End about 4 o'clock, but there was no sign of Wyn and Rene (but Wyn's rucksack had gone, so we had a cup of tea and went down to the D.G. to meet Wyn who had had a meal. We said goodbye to her and to Frank.
In the evening, I had Staff Winnie as partner in the table tennis.
This was Ellen's and Rene's last day so the off-day was altered to Thursday and the excursion was to Helvellyn. We tried to get a conveyance from Browns, but a bus or taxi was the same price (50/-), so, as only seven of us wanted to go, Gordon took us – three in front and four behind in his four-seater.
He took us down Redbank (1 in 4), through Grasmere and Wythburn, from where we went to the top, getting into the mist and rain half way up. From the shelter, we went on to Swirrel Edge (down about 10 ft. of snow onto the edge) and then along it in the mist and down to Red Tarn for lunch. The mist lifted a bit and we had a view of Ullswater, also of the Tarn, which was frozen over, and the slopes of Helvellyn beyond, covered with snow. We then went up Striding Edge to the top of Helvellyn again, and down in the mist and rain still to Wythburn. Half way down, the mist cleared completely and it was really hot by the time we got to the bottom. Ellen and Rene, who had their packs with them, then changed, and Rene left me her breeches, as I had burnt mine trying to dry them after Sunday.
We rode into Grasmere and had tea with the others who had walked there (going in for a meal at every farm they passed). We went on to Ambleside, where we left Ellen and Rene to get their bus to Windermere. It had been a wonderful last day for them.
In the evening it poured with rain.
It poured all day, so I knitted and read “Nanga Parbat".
The excursion was to Scawfell Pike; it was still raining, but we set out all the same. As we were going up the Band, the weather gradually cleared, and it was sunny before we reached the top of Bowfell. I went over to look down what I hoped was the top of the Buttress, as it had been so misty last year, but I couldn’t see much of it. From the top of Bowfell, we saw Great End, Scawfell Pike and Scawfell, all with their tops in snow. Pillar, Bowfell and Esk Pike had some snow, but it was fresh snow on all the others. It was a grand view, not very clear, but there were queer effects with the light.
We went onto the top of Esk Pike where we had lunch. Jean left us, but the rest of us went on, over a bit of Esk Hause and up in the snow to the top of the Pike. It was a case of ploughing through the snow instead of the usual boulder-hopping. Looking towards Lord’s Rake, it looked fine in snow. There was quite a breeze on top, but it was not very cold. It was lovely running over the snow on the way down – but too soft for sliding. We went over Esk Hause to the top of Rossett and waited while Bill tried to find some rocks to climb on, and then ran down. Monty and I went on to order tea at "Stool End", but found about a dozen others from "Wall End" having an egg tea, so we had to wait after all – and then there was no apple tart left!
It had been a glorious day and it made me quite forgive the weather for the rain on Thursday, as it had been snowing on the tops all that time.
As 15 of us were leaving, to avoid catching the 7.40 bus, Gordon ordered a Brown's bus for 10, but it did not come, and on phoning up, they said they knew nothing about it, so we had to catch the 10.40, where we saw Percy who was going to be Sec. for a few weeks. We missed the 11.15 train of course, but were just in time for the 12 o'clock.
Monty, Tom and I got out at Carnforth to get in the other train early in case it was crowded.
We ate all we could in the refreshment room (1 cheese sandwich and 1 piece of apple turnover), and then Tom had about half a dozen sandwiches free in a forces canteen. At Lancaster the others got into the train, and we all had to change at Preston. It was about 3 o'clock by now and Frank should have been having his medical at Wigan by then, so he reported at an R.T.O. and they stamped a paper for him.
We had more refreshments and then caught a Blackpool train. The others got out at Wigan, Monty at Rugby, leaving Tom and I for Euston, where Ellen was waiting. My wire had not arrived in time and she had been waiting 3 hours. It was about 9 o'clock and the blitz had started; Ellen said no trains were running from Victoria so I went home with her for the night.
A landmine on the line during the night delayed our journey to Victoria the next morning, then my train home went via Lewes, so I eventually arrived home at about 2 o'clock.
(STAFF) BRYN DINAS, SNOWDON
It was chilly early on, so we knew it would be another glorious day; I did not even take a coat and was so glad.
We set off up the same track as we had on Sunday and Monday evenings, and followed it round as it went southwest; we then turned off by a foot path – or rather found our own way over the rough ground, and ascended to Llyn Llagi. Next, some of us had fun going up a stream to Llyn Adar and then had to wait some time for the others who had gone a longer way round. We then followed the ridge along the Cnicht (2,265 ft.), having lunch at the first summit.
It had been a grassy slope up and very hot, and some demanded shade for their lunch, but there was none; however, after spending an hour over lunch we were quite cool, although there wasn't a trace of a breeze, and the sun was only very occasionally obscured by a cloud. The clouds must have delighted the hearts of the photographers, who were very numerous and didn't seem to suffer from any film shortage.
There were lovely views all round, but there was a slight haze. To the south there were the Moelwyns – memories of Harlech. From the lunch place we counted 16 little tarns. We descended at our own pace because the Sec. did not want to go fast in case he jarred his leg.
It was an interesting and varied way down and, after a bit, we saw what a fine hill Cnicht is. From Bryn Dinas it just appears as the end of the ridge - a marvellous ridge certainly, but I hadn't thought of Cnicht itself as being a peak. On the way down we could see its fine conical shape. The last part of the way down was through bracken (it was an extraordinarily bright green) and then we passed our first stream since the one we had come up in the morning.
There was a little throwing of stones and then we followed the track down to the tea place, which was at Mrs. Jones, just before Aber Glaslyn. We spent a long time over tea; Mrs. Jones supplied the bread & butter, and we had brought scones. We then went down to the river and walked by the Fisherman's Track, along the railway, and again by river to Beddgelert. We kept to the left of the river as far as Llyn Dinas, but then had to go by road.
I took my soap with me when I went for my swim at the foot of the Watkin.
We had dinner at 7 o'clock and then went to the dance at Beddgelert; I was not expecting to enjoy it, but I did, thoroughly.
What a wonderful first off-day.
Went with the party to Tryfan; we went by bus to the beginning of Llyn Ogwen and started up a path which the Sec. said his notes declared to be for a "small party of experienced mountaineers", but this track soon became too monotonous for him and he found some marvellous scrambles for us, some almost small climbs. Sometimes he got out his rope for the party, but I always managed to get up before he had that out. Some avoided the good bits, 'Mogerly' avoided most, but one piece he was trying, from half way up, he came down quicker than he had got up.
We had lunch at the top and watched some climbers climb down a bit, and then went on and up Bristly Ridge. I remembered two bits on it, from Conway, where we had to turn round and face back the way we had come in a little gully, also the unexpected bit, like climbing over a wall. The Sec. also found other more interesting optional bits which were quite new to me.
We went on over those huge slabs of rock to the top of Glyder Fawr (there was quite a gap there); all day it had been quite nice, and not too hot. From the top we had marvellous views, with the clouds getting lower all the time. Towards the east we could see the sun shining on the distant hills; to the south the hills looked blue. The top of Snowdon was soon in the mist and, before we left, it had reached us, and it was raining all the way down. Several times we nearly got out of it, but not quite. From Pen-y-Gwryd we went down the old road, but just before it joined the new one we cut up to Hafod Lwyfog for tea. I was so glad to go there, for I had heard the name so often from Doris. It is a fine old farm on National Trust ground and in the kitchen is some beautiful crockery (brown, with blue and pink on it, also the name "Hafod Lwyfog").
From the Glyders, Doris and I, Roy and Geoff went on in front to order tea, but not to start before the others. We did not want to wait, so were glad to find some of the others there before us. They had had a lift; we had wondered whether they would when we saw the lorry (it was driven by some of the soldiers from the dance at Beddgelert).
After tea, we went straight on in the rain to Bryn Dinas, where some of us had a swim (taking our soap with us).
The excursion was Snowdon, but the first blow was when we found we couldn't get buses, the second was that the Sec. wasn't coming.
'A's' and 'B's' set off up the road, and then by the old road, past the power station and then by footpath to Pen-y-Pass. From the hotel we went up the Pen-y-Gwryd track ('B' party's pace) until we came to where we left 'B' party. Here we spent a long time over lunch.
Snowdon had been in mist, then it nearly cleared, but it was still in mist when we set off. What a thrill to be going along Crib at last. I remember I first heard of it at Alston, when we were disappointed with Striding Edge; the Sec. kept quoting Crib and it has been cropping up ever since.
We found our own path up onto the ridge, then on the top we were in the mist. We were hot with the ascent, so did not wait, but went straight on. Of course in the mist we did not get the full benefit of the sheer drops, but I think even with them I should have been disappointed, considering how much I have heard about it. I may have missed some quite good bits through not having anyone to follow. Eric was in front, but he did not know it, and often he went round the side. I tried to go along the top. I was so disappointed to find there were these paths below the summit as on the Lakes edges. When there were bits to scramble up, we found quite interesting routes and at one point I diverged from the path to go up a pinnacle. I was talking to Eric. I might have met him in the Savoy, but he was there three weeks too soon. He spent one week at the Biot Hostel, and another week at St. Gervais with the N.U.S.
As we joined the top of the Pen-y-Gwryd Track, we met 'B' party and all went together to the top. From the cairn we pointed out everything (it was thick mist) and then went to the hotel; we were less lucky with chocolate than the Sec. had been. As we were eating, for a moment, through the windows we saw the mist trying to clear, so we raced up to the cairn – it cleared in patches towards the west, and really we got the whole view in that direction; then it cleared towards the east. The mist was still blowing over from the west, but through it we saw Crib quite clearly for a moment, and then to the south we saw the Watkin Track and Lliwedd. I was glad the "home over Aran" idea was dropped, as now I had at last done half of the Horseshoe, I wanted to finish it.
It was a glorious run down; the first part, down the Watkin, reminded me a little of the way down from Tête Rousse. We then left the track and went on over Lliwedd (more scrambling, as over Crib); we had good views of the north face where the climbing is done, but, as on Crib, the rock is rotten – so different from the Lakes, also Tryfan. I ran down with Olive; I had also talked to her in the morning, she was O.K. I missed her in the afternoon; she had got behind some slow coaches. She had been over Crib about ten times. She had not been for four years, but the four years before that she had come whenever possible. She told me about the centre, when it was a climbers' centre; there were never more than about 15, except at bank holidays, and all were climbers. The staff had meals with them, and sometimes they shut up the house, and all went out together. Although he had not seen her for four years, Mr. Williams at the post office recognised her as soon as she arrived.
On Lliwedd we met Louis and Muriel who had had a leisurely day up Snowdon, via Aran; we left them to find their own way down and six of us continued to the end of the Horseshoe (the Gribon), and then made our own way down to the valley. We had some real variety, running down grass slopes and rocks, scrambling and jumping down rocks, then through woods and finally wading through bracken above our heads (and then through a few stinging nettles). As we joined the Watkin, we met Louis and Muriel again – what a glorious day. From Lliwedd the mist had cleared completely, Crib looked impossible for walking along.
In the evening, after I had been beaten in the table tennis tournament (21-9) by the manageress, we went out for a walk along by Llyn Dinas. It had turned out to be a glorious evening, the best we had had that week. Our side of the valley was in shade, thanks to Snowdon, then gradually the shade crept up the other side. The sun left our "nightingale hill", but still shone on Cnicht Ridge, which had a wonderful pink tinge, which turned later to more of a purple shade. The pink reflected very well in Llyn Dinas, which was perfectly still.
At 11 o'clock the night before, Muriel asked me about climbing - on Friday. I woke up at 6 o'clock and would have loved to have got up then, but waited until 7 o'clock and then did odd jobs, e.g. fetched up water etc.
The bus was late, so the post came before we set off and I got my two parcels and letters. I got in the bus, took of my white rubber shoes, remembered my lunch and got out and got it, took off my socks, then the others said they had my lunch, so I got out as I was, and put the lunch back. As the coach started, I struggled on with my boots. I was a bit worried when Ted wanted to climb, as there was no room for anyone else, but they seemed to put him off.
I re-admired the view of Tryfan as we approached it, I'll never get tired of it. When we got out of the coach the 'Milestone' (our climb) was pointed out. Near the top was a huge yellow V, the painter of which must have been lowered from the top, for there is no climb anywhere near it. After seeing the party off, Tom introduced us to a Mr. Spink, or some such name. He is 72 and has been climbing for half a century and has often led Lewin, whose book (published privately) I have been reading at Bryn Dinas.
We chose an interesting route over the boulders to the foot of the climb, where I changed into rubbers (from the annex), but I was sorry that Phil had to carry my boots.
Tom led, followed by Phil, then I came and Mr. Spink brought up the rear (he unroped on some parts, he has done it so often). It is a very well known climb and the different parts are all named: the Garden Wall, the Cave and Slab, and the Chimney at the top.
It was a perfect day for climbing, sun all the time and in most parts a pleasant breeze (missing from the Heather Terrace, but present again on the Central Buttress); it was so different from Langdale, where it was so cold and the rock so wet, and water dripping down my neck and sleeves etc. Today it was just enjoyable the whole time and yet for the same reasons there was something missing compared with Langdale at Easter.
We had lunch at the top of the Milestone; there had been glorious views all the way, over towards the Glyders etc., but as the day wore on there was a terrific heat haze.
After lunch we went on along the Heather Terrace to the First Pinnacle Rib. This was an interesting, easy climb, the best bit being the Yellow Slab, for which the others changed into rubbers, so as not to wear the holds. There were the most peculiar striations in the rock.
I was 'official photographer' – I kept clicking Phil's camera all the way up, as I was last on the rope, but I was sure none of them would come out.
From the top of the Central Buttress, we continued on to the top of Tryfan, and then to the col between Tryfan and the Glyders, and then east, avoiding the latter (because of the time), but having marvellous views of Bristly Ridge. We stopped at a stream for 'tea' – our food was with the party, who were, I expect, having tea at Hafod Lwyfog, but I had the chocolate biscuits (which arrived that morning) with me and we ate them, and never were biscuits more appreciated.
We went on down to Pen-y-Gwryd. The hotel has been taken over as a boys prep. school, but we called in to see whether (as the others put it) 'the pub part was still pubbing' – it was, if we fetched the man from the cottage down the road. This we did and he said if we had been any later, he would have been on Home Guard duty. We were the first people since the evening before. Refreshed, we preferred a walk to the original hitch-hiking idea, so we went down the old road. Half way along Llyn Gwynant, when we were getting a little tired of the new road, a car stopped and offered us a lift, and we got back in time for a swim before 8 o'clock dinner.
In the evening, at 10.30 or so, Doreen and I, Muriel, Winnie and Connie were invited to the 'do' in the annex. When we arrived we found there had been a slight hitch; Miss Irvine had come down and found the oil stove alight and put it out. She then went into the common room and told Eric about it (who had to look so innocent), but they got it going again and made the coffee – they brought some milk from Hafod Lwyfog and Phil had some sugar.
There was plenty to eat; I had three cakes and Doreen's chocolates were greatly appreciated. We wondered what to do until someone suggested 'Sardines' – I thought there would not be enough obstacles, just the one room with its ten beds, but there were enough to make me black and blue all over I soon found and I should know the room as I sweep it every day.
It was pitch dark when they blew out the candles. It was during the feast that the photos were taken; Peter couldn't get back into it himself, the magnesium ribbon burnt out too soon.
We packed up at 1.30 and went outside and saw the moon; I have never seen it so beautiful, so big and yellow, we just had to walk up to the top of the road to see it, and then down to Llyn Dinas to see it on the water. By then it was rapidly going behind the hills, so we went on walking until it had gone. I crept up the back stairs and into my room, via room 6.
I was up at 6 o'clock, but it wasn't such a hard morning, as they mostly put the clean sheets in their old beds themselves (they were much better than I was at that). We were finished by 2 o'clock and I was ready by the time Peter, Ted and Bert arrived back from their morning on the lake.
Florence had wondered about coming with us, but decided she was too tired; however, she agreed when Peter suggested taking her pillion on his motor bike, although the seat is not padded and there were no foot rests. I called in at the post office, and when they heard I was going to the copper mines, they warned me to be careful, for they said there were rotten timbers and shafts etc.
Ted, Bert and I walked to the mines and met Peter and Florence. The others had worn boots; how I wished I had, or had at least put socks on with my shoes, as there was quite a bit of scree.
We first made for the mine with the largest entrance, but the tunnel went only a very little way in so we went for the smaller ones. Quite high up we found a shaft down which we threw stones. We timed one of them and it took 11½ seconds, then the others had a bright idea. Florence had a torch with a silver back, and with this she reflected the sun, then Bert, who had a mirror, reflected this reflection down – it looked miles, as far as we could see, yet when we threw stones in they reached as far as that in 2 or 3 seconds, so this was only a fraction of the depth. Other experiments, such as throwing down lighted heather were not successful.
The colours at the entrance to the caves were so wonderful – all greens, yellows and purples and usually shown up by the sun. We explored several tunnels with our candles, but they were all disappointing in length. The copper stalactites were most extraordinary, and there were traces of stalagmites. They were very brittle; some were nearly 2 ft. long and were hollow.
At one point, Bert took a snap of us by candle light, all dressed up in our macs!
Florence and I had to be back by 6 o'clock; we wanted some tea and Beddgelert seemed too far off, but then we remembered the 5.30 bus, so we made for a tea place this side of Beddgelert. Florence and Peter went back to the bike, while the rest of us made a bee-line for the tea place – until we reached the river. Here I immediately took off my shoes and started to wade across. The others seemed to think I looked funny – the stones were very slippery and I was holding my shoes in my hands, and holding up my shorts at the same time. I could not balance very well. I was glad I got across before Bert thought of his camera. I had my laugh when the others crossed – Peter was standing ready with his camera, but neither fell in.
For tea we had dainty lettuce sandwiches, biscuits and cakes, with plenty of tea to drink, all for 1/- and the lady was apologising, saying it was all she could do in war-time.
At 5.45 we thought of the bus and went outside; here Florence recognised the laundry van approaching, so I put up my hand and for the first time in my life asked for a lift in the approved fashion. A good job we got the lift, for there was no 5.30 bus that day.
It was a lovely afternoon; Phil, Joe (a new guest) and I went up to the Gladstone Slabs and played on them and left 23½ minutes for getting back. I got back 2 minutes before 4.30, but that was dreadful – in boots and slacks, in that heat, running past all those lovely pools. I hardly knew how to stop myself running straight in, clothes and all. I must have looked anything but Sunday afternoon teaish, but no-one seemed to mind.
After these four glorious days, we were very sorry and disappointed that it clouded over in the evening, but we agreed to get up at 2 o'clock all the same (after a long conference, during which we discussed the marvellous effects with mist in the valleys and the tops out of it – what a hope!).
The alarm went at 2 o'clock (I heard later that those in the next room hearing it thought 'poor staff, what time do they have to get up?'). As had been arranged, I lit the oil stoves and put the kettle on; I then called Tom and Phil (who were awake) and then Muriel. We had our first breakfast, put on our boots, and set out. It was so hot and at first it didn't get better when it started to rain. Was I glad that the others had persuaded me not to leave my mac and gloves at Cwm-y-Llan!
We were soon in the mist and even with Muriel and Phil's torches we found it difficult enough to keep to the path. After the quarries, it began to get cooler; we found an unorthodox way up the zigzags.
We arrived at the top at 5.15, absolutely soaked, and we knew the sun would never rise. I would almost have forgiven the railway and hotel if we could have had a cup of tea, but the hotel was shut, although it was bank holiday.
We found as sheltered a spot as possible and dried out. I took off my blouse, which I wrung out and put on my dry woolly and suede coat beneath my mac. After we had all dried, we had our 'second breakfast' (bread and anchovy paste, bread and butter and dates) but then did not want to stop for any more (Muriel's rhubarb tarts etc.).
I left the others half way down, but still wasn't back much before 8 o'clock, so I had rather a cool reception from the manageress. I had my 'third breakfast' which they had saved after the guests had theirs.
The post came before we had started, so I was able to take some gooseberries with me. We went by coach to Ogwen, where the rest of the party got out – including Muriel who was most envious of me. We went a bit further and got out at Idwal Cottage and walked up to Llyn Idwal. We passed the Slabs (including 'Faith', which we had hoped to do, but it was wet and we were afraid of the time); we scrambled up the introductory gully and saw the holly tree of 'Holly Tree Wall' and went to the foot of the cliffs, being amused by some amateurs going our way. They were 'rock climbing' on an ordinary path, so when we saw four of them start up a grass gully near our climb (a moderate climb according to the book), we wondered whether they would need a rope to get back, but fortunately they soon turned back – a great boulder, which they dislodged, and which bounced down the scree seemed to put them off the gully. It was funny to watch them walk down the screes on all fours.
Our climb on Glyder Fawr, Central Arête, looked a little disappointing at first; there was so much grass. I was glad to do it in boots as it was not very difficult (a diff.). I was last on the rope and at one point I was kept waiting ages. When I did eventually start, I found that Tom had had to go on as there was only room for two on that stance. I was again kept waiting ages while Phil went up to Tom, and then along sideways to get some photos, but I could have sat there all day, it was such a glorious position, on top of an overhang (the seat was very comfortable and the view perfect). We had lunch when Phil and I got back to Tom – what a position! North down Nant Ffrancon to the coast, it was so peaceful and sunny, with the Carneddau to the right with a little mist on them, and then left, towards the Devil's Kitchen there were patches of mist with an interesting sky, and cloud shadows on the ground. It was cooler here too, not like in the introductory gully. I was lucky to have weather like this. Wednesday and Thursday had been fine, and Thursday evening there was a most glorious sky and, as I got into bed, a most wonderful full moon appeared from behind very black clouds over Cnicht.
I was up by 6.30 on my off-day. It was wet, although not actually raining. I thought I was beginning to know this Welsh weather, and that it would soon start to pour and keep on all day, but no, it cleared. The mist was quite low over the Glyders and it was still thick from Capel Curig to Tryfan (but Tryfan in mist looked more noble than ever, especially as I was sure by this time that it would be fine).
From Idwal Cottage, looking back over Tryfan, I saw a sight I shall never forget, although I saw it for only a fraction of a second as the sun through the mist was so bright. Tryfan was a black mass of rock with this mist behind it and around the top, and the sun behind that.
After lunch we continued to the top of Glyder Fawr where we finished the gooseberries. There was a glorious view over towards Snowdon, Anglesey etc. and the top of Glyder Fach looked most noble. We wondered whether to go down that way, but as we went down the Miners Track last time, we went straight down to Pen-y-Gwryd this time. It was quite an enjoyable run down, the last part a bit boggy. We went down to Hafod Lwyfog for tea where we arrived about 5 o'clock. We were glad we went by the new road as the views were grand. Crib looked so good with the mist behind it, also Gwynant is such a perfect lake.
As the others had not yet arrived we had our tea first – very peaceful, and with a whole pot of tea to ourselves. I liked their animals: a stately grey cat, a dignified dog who loved being made a fuss of, a bitch with her dear little puppy (it was so lively, helped us eat our tea and then had a good meal from its mother, to be followed, when the others came, by tea to drink).
With Wendy, John, Alan, Mr. Redfern, Denis and Bob, we went by car (the only transport by now) to Capel Curig. I hoped it was the Carneddau we were going to, but it wasn't. We walked along the old road towards Ogwen as far as Galt yr Ogof, a spur leading onto the ridge from Capel Curig, towards the Glyders (we found some interesting bits of rock on our way up). We continued along to the col where the Miners Track goes down to Pen-y-Gwryd, and had lunch there. We had gooseberries and extra sandwiches with our lunch. The manageress did the lunch and she never knows what she is doing.
We continued along the track, over the col between Tryfan and Glyder Fach, down to Llyn Bochlwyd, then down nearly to Idwal, and south along a track until we were within sight of the Idwal Slabs. Here we watched some climbing through John's glasses; we turned back and had to get a move on. The others said we were walking at 5 m.p.h., but I know I can't go more than 4. We went down to Ogwen, round the other side of the lake and onto the road. We passed the sheepfold where, in the morning, we had seen them driving the sheep in. They had asked us to stand still, so we sat down and watched them drive the sheep through a gate, using about half a dozen dogs.
We had been at Capel Curig and then had to go in relays. I was in the last car, and learned the news before I left – the first for months – it was very interesting, all about Churchill and Roosevelt meeting at sea.
I woke up very early and found there was a thick mist, and I couldn't see a thing, but soon after I got up, it began to clear – and did so very beautifully, leaving wisps of mist, and I decided it would be a glorious day. I always was an optimist!
I had decided on Hebog. I had so often seen it over Llyn Dinas, its top usually being in mist. They say it is a grind to get up and then the top is only a plateau and that the chief point of it is the view.
I went the other side of the river to Beddgelert and then by the Royal Goat, crossed the railway (the toy one now derelict), up through a wood, and then by a stream I turned at right angles to this to make for the top. Until then, it had been dry and I had had quite good views, but now I was in the mist and only got out of that to get in the rain. Before the mist stage, I met another lone walker and we went up together – we were the only ones we saw on Hebog all day.
I enjoyed the last part of the way up, I found a gully between what, in the mist looked like great cliffs of rock. I enjoyed it all the more because I was expecting grass all the way. It was fine scrambling up the rocks in the wet, also the moss etc. had not been cleared away as on climbs.
We had our lunch on the top, sheltered by a stone wall, and then dropped down towards Moel Lefn, but skirted it. Next we got into a plantation; there was no path at first, so we went down a stream (it did not matter, it could not make us any wetter). To save going along the road we went along the railway track to Beddgelert, where we had tea at the Café by the post office. How we longed for a fire, but my little coat in my rucksack was comparatively dry, although my map etc. had rather suffered. After tea, I walked straight back along the road.
I set out along the road to Nant Gwynant, hoping to buy some sweets, but I was unlucky. I then got off the road as soon as possible and went through the field into the woods; I found some most delightful paths along the sloping hillsides. They were lovely woods, with some rhododendron bushes, yet looking wild. There was no path out of the woods, so I made my own way along the hillside, gradually rising, and crossed the ridge of hills at Bwlch Rhediad, from where I followed the "Ancient Trackway", marked on the map. When I first came to it, before looking at the map, it reminded me of some of our old tracks on the downs. It was half sunken and therefore more like the paths at home than in this district (actually I did not think much of it, it was too boggy).
It was a glorious day, but quite autumnal, there would have been lovely views of Snowdon had it not been in mist, but Crib looked grand, also the three peaks of Lliwedd; I could also see Llyn Llydaw between these two hills. Looking down Nant Gwynant it was marvellous, the valley becoming green, Beddgelert way, with the great mass of Hebog behind; I was so glad I had been up it, even if I hadn't had the view.
Siabod by now looked just a gentle slope up, but its shape made it well worth going up. I had been collecting any little scraps of wool all the morning, but half way up I found yards of it. Llynau Diwaunydd looked quite good with some rocky bits behind it, but some pylons spoiled the skyline; however, these were out of sight higher up. I arrived at the top of Moel Siabod just before 1 o'clock and had the most glorious views towards my wonderful Glyders and Tryfan, with the Carneddau behind.
There was a cold breeze, so I found a more sheltered spot for lunch, overlooking the Lledr Valley, but what fascinated me was another little valley, going to Blaenau Ffestiniog. I wanted to go down it, but didn't know about the time. After lunch (and tea for the cake was too good to leave), I went to the top and looked at the view south, with the map and then started down.
Half way down I met another solitary walker, a girl, but I didn't like her and we were almost quarrelling in the first five minutes. She had her knife into the H.F. and Langdale in particular; she also went on against all climbers, so I wasn't sorry when I left her. I was in a hurry.
I went on past the reservoir; by now I could take off my mac which I had put on for warmth on the top. I followed the continuation of my 'ancient trackway' down to Garnedd and then had to turn north for a quarter of a mile to cross the river. From just south of Roman Bridge station, I walked along the railway track. I went nearly to the entrance of a tunnel and then turned off right at (I suppose) Cwm Fynhadog.
I crossed the river again on some stones, and then mounted up to the top of Yr Arddu, where I found the most delicious bilberries, so ripe that they squashed as I picked them. I did not stop long as it started to hail (it was blowing into my face as it did at Easter on the Langdales), but it was not unpleasant, the hail must have been much warmer. I hurried on afraid the mist would come down. The hail soon stopped.
For ages the sun was still shining on the lower slopes of Siabod; the mist was on the top and on the top of most of the hills to the south and east – Snowdon etc. of course were covered. I continued along my ridge, which went to the east of Moel Meirch. I was interested to see it from this side; it looks almost as interesting as from the other, but I was seeing it against the light, so it looked much blacker.
I continued along my ridge, went through another hailstorm and passed Llyn Edro nearly to Llyn Adar (of Cnicht memories), just before I cut off down to Llyn Llagi. I was interested to see the fall I had scrambled up on my first off-day, full of water. There had been a drought last time I was this way! – and so straight back, at 5.30 or so.
Doreen and I were not on for tea, so I thought we would go up Aran; then we found that Gladys and Marjorie, Mr. Fowler and Bill were going in the same direction, so we joined forces with them. We went up the Watkin, and then continued up to Bwlch Cwm Llan, the saddle between Aran and Snowdon.
It was a perfect day; the top of Snowdon was so clear and near, how I envied the five who had gone up there, but on our walk it was good to see the view over the saddle, down towards Caernarvon. We continued up the ridge to the top Aran (have hardly appreciated any view more) and the advantage of not being up Snowdon was that it was in our view. The chief points to the east I had been up, except the Moelwyns, to the west I had been up none, but north there were the familiar ones, Lliwedd, with Crib behind, and then the Glyders behind that. Then there was Siabod, with my ridge to Cnicht, with Moel Meirch in front. The great pity was that Cnicht was quite overshadowed by the Moelwyns behind. To the south, Hebog looked a noble lump and behind it were the hills behind Harlech.
It was a wonderful day, like my first week here, but the view so much better because I knew it all. I could even admire the valleys, appreciate the positions of Beddgelert and Caernarvon. I was glad when Bill arrived (the second one at the top) for I nearly started running down again to go up Snowdon!
We had our tea at the top and then Bill left us to go up Snowdon (he had an hour and a half more than me). Returning, we went fairly straight down, but not too straight, for all the valleys run down Beddgelert way, and it was rather cross-country. Gladys and I were together talking about the Lakes. As time was a bit short, we followed a ravine which came out just the other side of Mrs. Owen's place. I was 5 minutes late by Bryn Dinas time, but that is 15 minutes fast.
I caught the 8 o'clock from Preston Park and made my way immediately across to Euston by Underground. Here I found that the 10.25 to Windermere and 10.40 to Blackpool had been changed round, and I had over an hour to wait. I had a very pleasant journey; the two girls opposite me were being sent to Lancaster, to be called up for the A.T.S. We were about an hour late in Windermere (7 o'clock). The first glimpse of the hills was just as much of a thrill as usual; they were unbelievably beautiful with snow in the gullies and rather stormy clouds over them, and the sun setting behind the clouds. As I passed a taxi driver on my way out, it dawned on me that he mentioned "Wall End", so I spoke to him – he was looking for a Mr. Moss, but gathering that I was for the same place, he sort of passed me on to a bus driver, who took me to Ambleside, where I was 'passed on' to another driver, who said he would wait in case anyone else came. I walked about Ambleside, but all the shops were shut, and there were no boot shops, so I spoke to Mr. Brown again, who pointed out Ann, also for "Wall End". One taxi stopped, but was full up, so after a bit Ann and I started walking, leaving our luggage for the taxi. What a glorious walk, seeing the hills in that half light. The taxi overtook us all too soon and we rode as far as the old D.G. I was glad to see a few familiar names on the house list.
After something to eat, I set out with the others to go to Blea Tarn. I talked to Staff Winifred, who had visited Brighton a fortnight previously, hoping to become Varndean's Art Mistress!
At the top of the hill, we waited for the moon to rise, which it did just in the dip in the skyline. Back in the common room, Win recognised me from Conway 1939, and I recognised Eileen from Snowdon and found she was to be my room-mate.
I had ordered a separate packed lunch as I hoped the others would be coming. The excursion was to Tarn Hows and I wasn't very interested.
After breakfast, three people arrived, one with a rope (the only one there) and that was Rhys. He said that he had brought it on Wyn's orders and he also brought the news that Rene and Wyn were coming on Saturday on their bikes, Rhys had walked over from Grasmere with Leslie and Ivy, who he said had set a good pace. We soon caught the party up and had lunch at Tarn Hows; it certainly is very pretty and I suppose I can be glad I have seen it. Also, the weather was far from ideal and the taxi driver the night before had said he thought it had set in fine! In the afternoon we went up Tilberthwaite Falls and came home along the Blea Tarn, getting very wet.
The evening was much better than the excursion, with dancing and games: The Pride of Erin and The Dashing White Sergeant etc.
Half way through breakfast, Wyn and Rene arrived; Wyn was glad to see that Rhys was there with his rope for he had told her he wasn't sure whether he had booked for Langdale or Newlands! After they had found their hut (Orrest Head, the next below me) and had a good breakfast, they were ready to come with about ten of us up Scawfell Pike.
We went up Rossett Ghyll and over Esk Hause; Jim had a few snow fights and we tried to slide on the snow, but it wasn't steep enough. I was mad because I had to wear a skirt. I had got my only pair of slacks wet the day before, on a walk on which I didn't need them a bit, and they were too wet to wear on the Saturday. The colour of my bare legs varied from Red Indian to Lobster, according to remarks made! We went round the Guides Track for lunch just before Lingmell, which we then went up (against cutting sleet) and then back again and round to Mickledore.
Norman went up this at a beautiful pace, kicking steps all properly. Then Rhys started it, he would run up and slide down; that was too much for me, I did the same. It was a marvellous slide down, but unlike similar places in France where the slope ended in a deep drift, here the snow just petered out on the rocks. Fortunately, I always stopped, or was stopped before these. At the top Rhys put our tea in a dry rucksack and we continued on in the mist to the Cairn. It was very cold up there, with large icicles round the pole.
We continued on; ours were the first footsteps in the snow and Norman consulted a compass to ensure that we didn't get down into Eskdale. Memories of Wyn and Rene last Easter Saturday! We got down to Esk Hause, having only one real snow slide on the way. We had tea near Angle Tarn and then hurried back to keep warm.
It was very wet, so we had a mid-day dinner. It cleared in the afternoon, so we went to see the fall on the Dungeon Ghyll, but there was too much water to go far into it. After going up a little higher, we ran down for a real Sunday afternoon tea. Then Rhys remembered that Wyn had said she had some nice little bits looked out for him, for his rope. There was half a gale blowing, but of course Wyn and I said yes. We went up by Grizedales and then on the hillside found an egg! of which we took great care, leaving it at the foot of the buttress to be picked up later.
Rhys tried the first pitch, but could get even less distance up it than when there had been a crowd to catch him, when he fell, when he tried it two years ago.
We went round and started at the second pitch. It was much more difficult than when we had tried it in perfect weather before. Halfway up the last pitch, it started to rain; we went down the gully and Rhys had one more try at the first pitch, but we gave it up with the good excuse that we did not know the time, and we were not going to be late for dinner. We collected our egg and the two of us ran down the scree; much amused by Wyn who nearly went down on all fours, so as to save the nails in her new boots.
In the evening we had a 'brains trust', with all of us as the brains, and it was, I think, the best Sunday evening I have ever had. There was one question about vitamins, which the other Eileen answered. I drew a few formulae for Jim's benefit. The question on 'books' was very interesting, "I bought a Mountain" was praised by all, and one of the two climbers who had dropped in for the night said that now that the author was in the army, Esme was carrying on alone, living in the caravan and letting the farm. He had stayed there the summer before. We were sorry they shut him up when he started to praise her.
We learned facts such as a sky scraper which swayed lasted 20 years, and one which did not, lasted 5 years. The rainbow was explained; people described their most thrilling experience: Harry on horse-riding in the Valley of Rocks before breakfast; for the best day's walk, many were in favour of the Pillar round. When the question "why is a poached egg so called?" cropped up, we were able to explain that a 'poached' egg might be boiled as ours was going to be.
It simply poured; we were very sorry for those whose last day it was, and many left early. After we had seen the others off, Wyn, Rene and the other Eileen and I went to Grasmere by the telegraph poles. We were going to the 'Rose and Crown' (as they would call the Red Lion) for tea, but as we passed the usual Café we saw Tom Cromshaw in it, so went in there to talk to him. He was returning after two days Borrowdale way. We learned all the latest about Margaret, Snowdon and several of the others. We returned the same way, getting rather wet, and hurrying to be in time for dinner.
The weather was worse than ever; Jim set out for Sty Head to meet his brother, but didn't get there.
In the afternoon we put on our boots, but did not go out, and in the evening we still stayed in.
After dinner we went up Blea Tarn way, wooding; I still had on my boots, so I went to the wood this side of Blea Tarn, got a few sticks and came back to the road, and, as I did not see the others, took them home where Miss Smith was very pleased with them.
As the others had not returned I went back to meet them. I found them half way to Blea Tarn, with Wyn back looking for her mitt, which she did not find. I took my turn with the stretcher, which was piled up with wood and very heavy.
As I had gone down the first time by myself, I realised for the first time exactly how wild and lonely the valley was; the hills were quite black, there were very stormy clouds in the sky above them, the wind was howling and there were a few rain drops. The second time, when I returned with the others, it was a little darker. Back at "Wall End" there was much laughter, and then Miss Smith said she had a more serious matter to discuss. Had any of us had a visitor in our huts? – A man?
We thought at first it was a joke until we learned that this is the second season it had been going on – there were two months of it last year. A man walks in the huts at night, and if the windows are open puts his head in them, but he is quite harmless and honest. He walks behind the huts and then creeps down beside them. He had started again this season Miss Smith said.
On a night like this it was a really eerie tale; we all locked our huts that night. I was sleeping by myself as the weather had sent Eileen home, but Wyn and Rene were next door. However, there were no signs of the visitor, although Jim went to sleep in the hut between Winifred and Miss Smith, with trays to wake him up if it came. It was nice to know that the visitor was human, for it fumbled with matches and left foot prints, so Miss Smith said.
A lovely day. There was much more snow about and, after quite a late start, we went up the Langdales by the Dungeon Ghyll. There was much less water and we were able to go quite a way in. We went onto the top of Gimmer and saw the wonderful cup-shaped plateau covered with snow, and so on up Stickle and Harrison, where we had lunch just below the top in as sheltered a spot as possible. We went on and Norman left us to tell Miss Smith we should be late back. We went down Greenup Ghyll (having a fair snow slide) and by Stonethwaite to Rosthwaite.
In the post office we bought post cards, a climber’s guide and chocolate and were recommended to the Royal Oak for tea. It was very good, thick farm butter, delicious scones etc. Jim phoned up his brother and we set off up Langstrath; it was raining at first and as soon as we started ascending, we got into the snow, which made it quite slippery. We ran down to Mickledore, and then, as the stepping stones were under water and there was quite a current, we crossed below them, but still had to do some paddling and, although we were wet through, the water seemed freezing to the ankles.
The weather was the same as usual; perhaps it was as well, for my things were soaking wet. In the afternoon it cleared, and the sun actually shone; how marvellous the hills looked in the sun from Blea Tarn way. Wyn tried to find her mitt, but was unsuccessful again. We had tea at 4 o'clock and then Ann, Norman and Mr. Edbrook came down to the old D.G. and sat in the bus until it went. I got out at Ambleside and met Wyn, Rene and Winifred (who had borrowed Helen's bike). I could not get on the 5.22 to Windermere, but was well up in the queue for the next. While waiting, I met Monica, Margaret and two others of Langdale last Easter and Snowdon in the summer; they were staying in Ambleside this Easter!
The others went back and as I got into the bus it started to rain (I hope the cyclists got back in the dry). The 8.35 went straight through to Euston and from there I made my way to the corner house, Tottenham Court Road and had a delicious breakfast before making my way to Victoria
(STAFF), "WALL END", LANGDALE
In the afternoon I went past the D.G. where I phoned for a taxi to meet Mr. Henderson that evening (needless to say Mr. Brown forgot). I then went on up Mill Ghyll to Stickle Tarn (I noted that it would take me less than an hour to get to Pavey Ark – I hoped that knowledge would come in useful one afternoon).
From Stickle Tarn I followed the left hand stream which flowed from the northeast; it had not cut itself a very deep valley in the bare moorland and it was about 2,000 ft. up, yet the flowers in it were glorious. In all my life, before this I had only seen one wild butterwort in flower (in that waterfall getting onto the Cnicht ridge, from Bryn Dinas). In this valley there must have been hundreds and there were several other sorts I had not seen before. One had seeds something like sorrel, but its flowers and leaves were very different, and there was a yellow one, a little like stonecrop.
As I was following my valley, it started to rain. I was glad the valley was straight, for I knew I could get down the same way if the mist came down, but I was lucky. Because of the weather I altered my plans for getting to the top of at least one of the Langdales and came down the Stake (I must avoid that way in the future); it poured all the way down and then cleared afterwards. This has happened every time I have been on the Stake!
I woke up when Edna got up, and it was still raining; at 8 o'clock, when I got up it was a little brighter, in fact, there was a rainbow in Mickleden; it was a beauty, a complete semicircle and one side was double. Then the rain started to teem down and I thought I needn't have bothered to put on my shirt and slacks. Chris and I looked all through the book and found a climb on Gimmer 'suitable for a wet day', but we were afraid it did not mean a day as wet as this. We were still hoping the rain would slacken when lunch time came, and soon after that it started to clear; in any case Chris and I had determined to go out whatever the weather.
We went to Middlefell and started at the foot of the first pitch (which we had left out at Easter). Chris started on the right and then just ran up! I tried it, then had several tries and knew I should never get up, so Chris came down and we unroped. He said he would advise me and catch me when I fell (I did not see how he could do the latter, as he seemed only about half my size).
Despite his numerous demonstrations, I could not get up and kept half jumping off, then once I came off when not expecting to. I had about the right distance to fall, not too far so that I should land with a bang, yet far enough for me to be able to right myself a bit, for I think my head was lower than my feet. I needn't have bothered, Chris just caught me round the waist, turned me round above his head somehow and put me on the ground gently on my feet! It was the surprise of my life.
After a few more tries, we went round this pitch and started on the second pitch, the same as at Easter, but there is nothing in the rest of it. At the top we decided to leave the first pitch and go along to Scout; here we did the two climbs, except that I went round the 'severe crack' at the bottom of one of them. I must have looked very funny on the nose on route 2! We then went down to the road and hurried along it to be in time for tea at the old D.G. which we had ordered earlier in the afternoon.
After tea, we went back to Middlefell to try the first pitch again; there were a few drops of rain, so we sheltered to see if it would blow over and it did, after we had seen a rainbow, down the valley this time. I tried the first pitch again, but this time by the left hand route; eventually, with Chris pushing my ankles in towards the rock at one point, to balance me, I reached the nose! I managed to wedge myself below this and stayed there, tied on the rope, while Chris went round, climbed down, picked up the other end of the rope and climbed up again. I then went up and didn't find it too bad, but I still hadn't done it by myself, so I went down, varying the way by crawling through the cave. I started to go through head first, then half way found it would be better feet first, so I changed, but there really wasn't enough room! Then I came up the first pitch again, but I relied on the rope at that one point. However, I hoped that I should have other opportunities of trying it before I left.
We met the two people Chris was hoping to meet on Gimmer if fine; they also did not like the first pitch, but it was above the part where I had my difficulty that they did not like.
We ran down and had 5 minutes to wash and change before dinner.
I was not on for tea, so had 5½ hours off and thought I would make the most of it as it was a lovely day. I had a stroll round in a semi-circle. I thought that I could drop down to "Wall End" whenever I liked, if it was getting late, but I was able to finish the walk and still be back an hour too soon. I thought my watch must have stopped.
I set off in the blazing sun up Hell Ghyll way; there were a few drops of rain and a little mist on the Crinkles, but Bowfell was clear, so I went on.
On Bowfell I got out the map to intelligently admire the view. There was mist on Scawfell, but it seemed to have cleared from the Crinkles, so I went on over them, keeping the valley in sight on my left, all the time. I remembered Edna's experience on her last off-day when she got down to Eskdale, but I needn't have bothered, the mist kept away. I was so early at the top of Browney Ghyll that I came home over Pike o' Blisco, picking a few bilberries on the way. It was a really glorious walk, the mist seemed to follow me round, but it did not get in my way at all, yet it was always about to improve the view. On the way down, the view up towards Bowfell was extraordinary; the sun was on the flat ground up Oxendale, and then the next thing that showed up was the top of the clouds, all silver, with the sun behind and the sheep ground between was just black.
The rain just poured down all the morning; at 12 o'clock I wanted to go in 'mac over bathing things' and with a rucksack of dry things to Chapel Stile to catch the bus, but Miss Smith persuaded me against it, bribing me with an offer of lunch with the staff.
In the afternoon the rain slackened, so with Reg and Cameron, I set off down the road, wading through the floods where necessary. At Chapel Stile I left the other two to go to Grasmere (they had to be back by 7.30) and I went on to Ambleside where I saw the Art Exhibition (of the R.C.A. which is evacuated here). It was marvellous, I could have spent hours there. I then went round a few shops, bought some postcards and some unrationed wool, then after tea, I caught the 6.45 bus to Chapel Stile. I walked about half way back to "Wall End" when a blue car came along and gave me a lift as far as the new D.G.
I really was thrilled with the exhibition, but an hour there was a poor substitute for a day on Gable, or Scawfell, or both, as Jack had hoped.
As Edna was home, being interviewed by the Labour Exchange, I did the flowers. It took me all the afternoon to collect them.
The evening was one of the strangest I have ever spent. First Nancy, from the week before, introduced me to her new room mate Marjorie, who has done a fair amount of climbing! Then we found we were sitting next to someone who was climbing from Wasdale last week; he was there with two friends, and they had all come on here to do some climbing! (but they seemed to have a full rope).
Next there was a fair amount of dancing and I had lessons from Eric the whole time, although at times it looked more as though we were giving exhibitions. This went on until elevenish, when I went to the 'ball in the barn' (as we called the 'dos' they have in there). Helen had suggested that I should go as they were so short of partners.
It was so strange in the barn, there were only a few candles, and they put these out when a plane went over. I only knew Helen, and it was a little while before I sorted her out from her sisters, they all speak so much alike. No-one asked me who I was, they all took me for granted, but I gathered Helen had to go through it afterwards.
Helen was disgusted with it, she said it was usually much better. The trouble was that the radiogram was not working, so they brought in the gramophone, but then someone made the old gramophone work and the two usually had different records. At least I found they did not wear their nailed boots – which was what I believed from how the dances sounded from our huts.
I set off at 2.30 or so, up the Langdales. I cut up a gully onto the D.G. Tracks and then went up Harrison Stickle, over Gimmer, Pike o' Stickle, High White Stones and Sergeant Man, and completed the circle by going over Pavey Ark. I came down by Mill Ghyll – a glorious afternoon.
I spent the whole afternoon on just two ledges on Kettle Crags, picking bilberries – the place was thick with them. I stayed until it started to rain. I spent Thursday afternoon the same way, getting 4¾ lbs of them and they were selling at 6/- per lb. so I was told!
I was so surprised on the day before when Bert, in the middle of asking for the pig-bucket, wondered whether I would like to climb – did I jump at the offer!
I woke up at 5.30 a.m. and was so surprised to find it fine and it stayed fine (I woke up at 5 minute intervals to see). There were many counter-attractions, such as with Nancy and Marjorie to Scawfell, Eric to Glaramara and then leave the party and go through the caves, or with Ernest to Blencathra on Eric's bike, but of course I didn't even consider any of them.
We soon set off for Gimmer – how I envied Bert and Arthur who took off their shirts, for it was much too hot. As I had never done a 'severe', they picked out a 'vd' first of all (Oliverson's variation and Lyons Crawl), what a grand climb! We were in full view of "Wall End" the whole time. I wondered whether Helen had carried out her threat of bringing some glasses from the farm and watching us.
We scrambled down the southeast gully to Ash Tree Ledge where we had left our things, and had lunch. No-one had a watch. We finished with gooseberries and chocolates. We picked a few bilberries for Miss Smith (made me think of the night before when I had dreamed I was still on Kettle Crags picking them!).
We then did our second and last climb, "A" route (a 'severe' – my first) but I did it in rubbers, so I don't suppose it is more than a 'diff.' in these. It was a lovely climb, several bits looked really good from below, and when I started on them I thought they might be too much for me, but they were not. I really did them without much effort.
The leader had not done the climbs before; he found them with the help of the book. I was in the middle of the rope (I like that position).
The two climbs cross over quite near the bottom. I did not realise this at first and thought it so strange that there should be two places on Gimmer where there were two belays, one above the other, until it was pointed out to me that it was the same place! At the top we found the time was 4.15, so we scrambled down the gully to Ash Tree Ledge and then leisurely made our way to Stickle Tarn, where we bathed and then came down Mill Ghyll. Half-way down we stopped for tea; this was a pleasant surprise for me, for I had forgotten we had any.
Although an easy day, it had been simply marvellous for me, and later I learned from Sybil that the others had enjoyed it just as much (and that their verdict on my climbing was that I had been 'well taught').
Chris and I set out just before 10 o'clock for Gimmer; we got up to it as soon as we could, although then it was much too hot for walking, but we thought it would be hotter still later on.
We set off up 'B' route. Arthur and Bert had done this on Thursday and I had heard all about their five attempts at Amen Corner. After two attempts, I gave it up, with the excuse that I hoped to do four or five climbs and I did not want to make my wrists too stiff on the first one! (as I had on my first day in trying to get up Middlefell 1st pitch by the right hand route). As it turned out, I wish I had tried to carry on up it. I found a way round – the rocks I went on weren't in the least scratched and we continued to the top and then scrambled down Southeast Gully.
It was lunch-time, but it was starting to rain, so we thought we would do our next climb before it became impossible for me in rubbers. We went up 'Main Wall' as quickly as we could, and came down the same gully where we met another climber; he was by himself, so was coming with us on our next climb (on the northwest face). By now the rain was coming down in earnest; we sheltered beneath those two huge chunks of rocks, but the water soon trickled in, and as the rock by now was quite impossible for rubbers, we had to come down.
Although I was leaving my beloved Gimmer, I enjoyed the run down in the rain. I sat down once, but the bruise was high enough up for me to be able to sit down in comfort, even if I couldn't sit back on a chair. Our lunch sandwiches, which we had for tea, were really delicious. Edna had cut them purposely. When we looked up Gimmer way, from the road we were rather glad we had left it, the lightning cut right across Harrison.
It was much too wet to go with Tom and Phil to Scawfell, as we had planned, so instead, in the morning, Phil and I went for a walk on the Langdales; we went up the Dungeon Ghyll and up Stickle and Harrison. We wished we had taken our lunch, for it was a perfect day for walking, despite the high wind and showers. Once we hoped the sun would come out, but we were too optimistic and it was very overcast most of the time. We went down for lunch and I felt rather mean having mine with the staff and leaving the others to eat their sandwiches.
In the afternoon the weather was just the same, neither wet enough to keep us in, nor fine enough for us to try Middlefell etc. We had a very pleasant walk, up Mill Ghyll by Stickle Tarn and down Easedale to Grasmere for tea at the Red Lion. We then caught the 5.15 bus to Ambleside; we saw a crowd waiting for it so started to walk to the stop before, but the bus came after we had gone a few yards; however, it stopped for us and we got in, which is more than we should have been able to do had we stood at the back of the queue. In Ambleside I bought a new strap for my watch and we waited for the 6.05 (workers) bus to Chapel Stile, not knowing that it only runs on Fridays. We were in plenty of time for the 6.45. At Chapel Stile we asked our way to Mrs. Jones of Thrang (Helen's sister) and picked up Helen's bike. I sat on the handlebars while Phil (all in his nailed boots) did the work. We occasionally had to get off on the hills. I know by myself I had walked up them all on a calm day; this day there was a real gale blowing. When we got back Ernest started to tell me about his afternoon's cycle ride to Elterwater, how he had been blown all the way down, but getting back it was hard work even downhill, where he had to pedal in low gear. He did not envy Phil when I described our journey back.
I had arranged to meet Tom, Phil and Laurie at the foot of Middlefell Buttress at 2.30. That would have given me plenty of time on a normal day, but this day we had Rosa Fitzgerald in for lunch and, thanks to her conversation, lunch lasted about twice as long as usual. After a terrific race, I got away by 2.10, thanks to Helen who also stayed until then. It was Edna's off-day and Helen, being on for tea, should have gone off immediately after lunch.
I got to Middlefell in time and met the others; I found they had spent the whole morning there, had gone up it and then down it, and then had a long lunch to spin out the time. I also heard that they did not like the first pitch, none could lead it, they had to have a rope from the top. I tried it with a rope from the top and, believe it or not, I just walked up. How marvellous to find I was improving at something with practice. Of course, I went up the left hand route; last time I did not try this until my arms were too stiff for anything through trying the right hand method. It even made me wonder whether my hanging on the kitchen door every morning was helping. I remembered how last time I even tried using my chin at one point.
Phil led up the rest of the buttress and then we went on to Pavey (my fault I am afraid); I said I would rather go there than to Scout. It is wet at the best of times, and most people I gather do not like it. They don't like the plants, but these, I thought improved it. Scrambling up the beginning of the Crescent, there were wild strawberry plants; the fruits had been a terrific size, but were rather spoiled by the rain. There were quite a number of flowers which were new to me. It was so wet that Tom did not want to lead, and as none of the others knew it, we came down and just had a scramble up Jacks Rake (in the book an 'easy' and before Southeast Gully, Gimmer Crag). There were tons and tons of bilberries; they must be later here than they are on Kettle Crag.
We had tea – I had forgotten to bring any, but there was plenty as Tom had signed for three and Lawrie came in late and signed separately.
From the top we ran down the same way as we had done on Tuesday, leaving Lawrie to go down Mill Ghyll and Tom over Harrison. I was back just in time to change by 6.30.
The post came with my results and my boots. I danced with joy at the thought of my boots, but changed my tune when I saw what they had done to them - just put a few extra muggers in the same leather! I wore them that afternoon, but before I even got to Scout, several other clinkers were loose.
We went up the two routes, had our tea at the top and left at 6 o'clock. I did not have time to change before 6.30!
I had a bath and changed after dinner – half way through my bath Ann told me Winch had arrived so I hurried. I had first seen her on Wednesday and recognised her immediately from Bert's and Arthur's description. It was arranged that I should climb with her and Charles from Stool End on Monday (she was going to Coniston on Tuesday) – so glad to meet a woman climber at last, even if this one was a head of a Pharmacy Department.
I lost Saturday's post, so Sunday morning I went to the post box. On the way I saw John (ear flipper) with a rope – before I knew where I was we had arranged to meet on Gimmer at 3.30. I set off punctually at 2 o'clock, on the way passing Vic and two others, who said John and Len had just finished taking the one legged boy up Middlefell; Len then took him on to Scout. John had suggested that to me, but I am afraid I did not sound too enthusiastic. I went up Middlefell and a few of John's variations (I had always chosen the easiest way before) and then we went on to Gimmer for 'Bracket and Slab', one of the longest climbs on the crag. It was described as 'severe – rubbers', so I felt I really was doing a severe at last, and not cheating by using rubbers.
We deviated at one point; I had put a bit of 'Bracket and Slab' into 'B' route when I had left out 'Amen Corner' I believe, so this time it seemed a good idea to put 'Amen Corner' into 'Bracket and Slab'. I was a little better at this than last time, but not much. I did not envy John; at the end, he had the rope in one hand and with his other hand heaved my right hand parallel to my left, and then pulled on the rope, I suppose, while I sort of swung my legs over. We then went on with Bracket and Slab, but of course took the easier of the two chimneys.
Like most of the climbs I have done on Gimmer, this ended in the Crows Nest – what a grand spot that is. This time John was describing seeing the sunrise from it one New Year's Day etc. From the Crows Nest on, I went first – the nearest I have ever got to leading! We had a pleasant run down, and I was back in plenty of time.
In the evening, I was talking to our John – one of the half dozen climbers here this week. He was most interested in my afternoon on Gimmer and I found that he, or any of the others, would have been glad to have me on my off-day, but I had fixed up with Winch. What a shame Miss Smith hadn't agreed to Reg's suggestion that I should have a week's holiday this week!
We had been going to Bowfell, but the clouds were on it, so we went to Pavey Ark instead. I wore my old boots to walk in and took my Black's ones for climbing. I was so glad I had them, as it was very wet. Winch led, Charles came next and I was left on the end of the rope. We went to do Gwynne's Chimney (a 'd'); half way up our chimney it dawned on Winch that it was 'Rake End' Chimney we were in (a 'vd'). It was a very good climb, a different type from any I had done before. We came down and had lunch on Jack's Rake' before Charles and I did 'Great Gully'. I thoroughly enjoyed it; it is quite long, but there are only three pitches of climbing, the rest is scrambling. I was glad that, in the last pitch, where there were three alternatives, we chose the 'very difficult' way.
On Jack's Rake, we met Winch who took us up Gwynne's Chimney. I had an awful struggle in the last pitch. I decided the book was quite wrong in making these climbs 'd' or 'vd'; I found them much harder than the first 'severes' I had done on Gimmer. I wondered whether that was why some people did not like it – too much hard work for climbs so low down on the list.
We came down Mill Ghyll again and then stopped to talk to John, George and Lawrie who were having tea at Grizedales, after a day on Gimmer (Chimney, Ash Tree Slabs and Mainwall).
I borrowed John's rope, and with Charles from "Stool End" to lead me, I went up Bowfell Buttress. That morning, when I got up, it was fine, so I was very disappointed when, during breakfast, the rain came and when it kept on all the morning, but it cleared about 1 o'clock, so we set out and hoped the rocks would be dry enough for rubbers.
The Buttress had been my first climb and I was surprised at how I remembered the details of that day, the walk up the Band in the wet, the stone where we ate a packet of stoneless raisins, the way across the screes, then in mist with snow in the gullies (but now in lovely sun); then the bottom of the climb where that other time we had lunch and watched other people going up – and Tiny criticising the way they tackled the little chimney.
Charles and I started up, in rubbers, although it was not as dry as we should have liked. I got up the little chimney much more easily than last time, perhaps it was the rubbers, the holds certainly are polished. The beginning of the third pitch was much easier in the dry; I remembered the other time I had nearly thought of giving up climbing when I got to this! Later on I recognised 'the Crack'. I remember people had talked about it after that first time, but I had forgotten which part it was.
We got to the top at 5 o'clock (ish), and met 'Mrs. Charles' and two others from Stool End, to whom she was trying to show the delights of the Lakes. Charles and I looked at the book and read up the 'Neckband' and thought we would try it, although I was sure there wouldn't be nearly enough time. We ran down to the foot of it and then took 20 minutes getting up it, although (according to the book) it is 200 ft. of 'vd'. I left Charles at the top and ran down to have time to change before 6.30.
As I was laying the tables I was delayed by talking to a boy who had heard that I was a pharmacist, he is taking his B.Sc. (Pharm.) Manchester in two years time. He was quite interested in Winch.
I was meeting John on Gimmer whatever the weather! Fortunately he was back before 2 o'clock, so I did not have to think of going out in that teeming rain.
The weather was not all it might have been; the mist was quite low, but I (optimistic as usual) thought it would clear. I was unlucky. As I had five hours in the afternoon, I wanted to make the most of it. I remembered I had not been up Rossett Ghyll this visit, so I set off that way and I went over Esk Hause, although the mist had not cleared. On the way I met Glyn and his wife and son (of my second week). I went on and found myself following the track towards Scawfell Pike, although I thought there was no hope of a view.
At one point it got a little brighter, but the mist was just the same, so I was very surprised when a little later it became brighter again and then the mist did clear and I had a view towards Gable. It looked marvellous, but its top was still in mist.
I was so glad I had come; I had been afraid that after climbing I should never appreciate walking the same (unless it led to a climb), but this was wonderful. I could see the point of coming at Easter, the track is scratched, you feel you are on a main road, but at Easter it may all be covered with snow. The absolute silence that afternoon made up for the cairned track. After Glyn I did not meet a soul until I got back.
I reached the top at 4.45 and, as I had given myself until 5 o'clock before turning back, I went on a little way. It cleared again and I saw down to Wasdale and Eskdale and then across to Kirkfell and Pillar (with their tops in mist). I got down to Mickledore and looked down to where our fine snow slope was at Easter. I wandered round a bit, noting the beginning of Broad Stand and admiring the cliffs of Scawfell and then had to hurry back, over the Pike and back the same way as I had come. In shoes I was slower downhill than up, and the rubber sole came off my left shoe – my shoes obviously did not appreciate the honour of being taken up Scawfell Pike.
Betty arrived at 2 o'clock; I had told her on the phone the night before that I had been up Scawfell Pike and she wanted us to do the same that afternoon! I thought we could set off in that direction, but near the foot of Rossett two of our people told us dreadful tales of the mist which had been on the hills all day. At the top of the Ghyll I was glad to find that Betty thought Bowfell would be quite far enough, so we set off in that direction (it was new to me) and were soon scrambling among rocks and bilberries (the berries did not taste as sweet as they do on a climb). After a while, even more surprisingly that on Sunday, it started to brighten, and when we were on the top the sun almost came out. Then it cleared over towards Eskdale (only the valley that is), but the hills were still covered and our valley was still in thick mist. It was blowing up from that way, but just disappearing before it reached us.
I was glad to see the Three Tarns, the beginning of our way home, for I have heard of so many people getting lost on Bowfell and I have always steered clear of it in the mist.
We came home down the Band; I have never seen anything like the mist – the sun was behind us, and in front it was absolutely black. It was mist, yet not white and opaque, but black and transparent. We could only see as far as "Wall End", and Side Pike behind looked three times its usual size, also Blisco and the Crinkles as they came out of the mist. It was like late evening, yet the sun was quite high in the sky.
I woke up early of course, but did not get up as I did not know what time Betty was arriving as she had been out when I tried to phone her the night before. I got up at 7.30, when Betty came. I found she had come without breakfast or lunch and with a friend, Lawrence. They had some breakfast at the farm, while I had mine and collected my lunch and cut a few more sandwiches.
At 8.30 we set off; it was already very hot. We went up Rossett, but not too fast – after their 30 mile walk the day before, Betty and Lawrence were not feeling too much like it I imagine. We went on over Esk Hause and then along the Gable traverse. Lawrence had nailed boots, Betty nailed shoes and I had un-nailed shoes, one of which had a rubber sole on when I set out. I didn't really miss my boots, not even when crossing streams etc. – perhaps it was after the climbing in rubbers I have done lately (sometimes when it has been none too dry!). I enjoyed the traverse, but I was only hoping Betty was doing the same; I am afraid I kept getting ahead and then waiting for them where there was a patch of bilberries – some of those berries were quite cooked in the sun!
I enjoyed the scrambling and I varied the way in my search for Bilberries. I missed out the foot of the Needle by accident, but then hope I went more Percy's way behind the Sphinx – from here they seem to go up the scree.
I had been surprised to see the Needle from Esk Hause, on the way; I had forgotten it showed up from there. Early on it was reasonably clear, but as the day wore on it got hazier and hazier. Wastwater was hardly visible and Scawfell and the Pike were only silhouettes, then, on top, a real mist rolled over and blotted out everything except the way back, but it soon passed on, leaving only the heat haze. In that haze, Pillar looked miles and miles away. I wonder when I shall get there.
Then there was Enneedale, High Crag etc. and Buttermere – I must explore that district again somehow – then Haystacks, Dalehead, Hindscarth and Robinson – all with memories of Newlands.
We had lunch just off the ordinary track; it must be monotonous coming up that way, but fun running down in boots – or perhaps it was more fun running down in shoes. I couldn't resist running, although I knew it would ruin my shoes.
We made our way slowly, in the heat, back over Esk Hause, and sat down on the top, having passed some people bathing in Sprinkling Tarn. Soon they passed us; they were from "Wall End" and had spent the day bathing instead of going on to Glaramara.
Ernest was one of the first, and I had the brilliant idea of borrowing his costume! (If I hadn't I am sure I should have gone in without one.) I went down and bathed in Angle Tarn, it was lovely. I think it was worth getting so hot, for the joy of getting cool again in this way.
When I saw Betty and Lawrence coming I came out and, as I had no towel, I walked on to the top of Rossett Ghyll carrying my clothes, and hoping I was getting a little dryer. When I joined the path I passed Eileen Richmond of "Bryn Dinas" and Langdale at Easter. She was with a party from Glaramara C.H.A. At the top, in full view of the path, but fortunately with no-one on it, I changed. I was glad Betty had followed me up and picked up the garment I had dropped!
We had tea (eats) half-way down Rossett and then at the stepping stones I left the other two to pick up their bikes and cycle back to Grasmere – in time for dinner, while I went on to Grizedales to have tea with the party. By now the sole of my shoe was flapping, so I ran barefoot as far as I could. Fortunately where the track got stony, and I had to put on my shoe, there was a man with a handy knife, who cut the loose part off, enabling me to walk.
I forget how many cups of tea I had; I had a lot to talk about – about my footgear, to Penny about her boots. She put it that if I wore them and wore off the newness I should be doing her a favour! and to Steve and Les – I heard them mention 'Lay-back' and then found that they had been on Gimmer – too good to be true on a day like this – the weather was even better than the first day I had there, but they had only done the chimney. They gave me a pair of socks they had found up there.
Back at "Wall End" I again borrowed Ernest's costume and went in our pool(?) – I hope they continue with their digging operations.
As I disagree so strongly with the borrowing of boots, I decided (despite what Penny had said) only to wear her boots in an emergency, but when Rodney arrived and seemed eager to take me climbing, I thought it was almost an emergency!
With the weather we had had on Thursday and Friday I was perfectly certain my heat-wave had arrived (mine because I had been promising it to myself all the time at Snowdon and all this summer so far), but by Saturday it was breaking and it was very doubtful on Sunday. I walked down to the post in Penny's boots and on the way back stopped to talk to Mr. Meyers, but he wasn't very cheerful about the weather. They all admired the boots, but didn't think the weather would let me use them that afternoon.
In the afternoon Rodney and Jean arrived from "Stool End" and I very soon changed (I had not expected them). We went along to Scout, but didn't get there; we spent all the time on the boulder below, but the two climbs are practically 50 ft. each, so good practice. We went up the easiest one first, and then Rod suggested I should abseil down, but I wasn't sure I liked the look of it, so he went down. It is straight down, not the way the climb comes up and is over an overhang, so that you are away from the rock for some distance, and then the rope is not long enough! I liked it even less when he had been down it, although he got down easily enough, so he found an easier place for me. A tree did fine to put the rope round, this bit you could walk down the whole way, but did I take an age over it! The rope cut so and then my wrists began to ache and half way down I could almost envy Jean who is content to see other people make fools of themselves. I had all the pull of the rope on my seat; the art is, I gather, to get it on your shoulder.
We then went up the climb on that side; I thoroughly enjoyed it, although I was so slow. The holds were few enough to make me think for a moment I couldn't get up, yet when I found the right hold it was good.
We were just going onto Scout when it started to rain; we sheltered until it was over, but by then the rocks were too wet for Rod without nails, so we returned – I was in time for tea.
This was a day quite beyond description. I woke up before it was light and found it was not raining and it stayed fine until 7 o'clock-ish, but then the rain came! I was the picture of misery because I knew this could be the best day of my life, but I also knew that Rod had only army boots, his roped sole affairs would be no use on really wet rock, besides he was not used to them. While waiting for Rodney, I put in one clinker by myself, but then fortunately Albert came along and replaced the other one I had knocked out of the heel of Penny's boots.
Presently Rod appeared and we set out for Gimmer (not Dow as I expected, as it was still raining). We met Mr. Meyers and he said it was going to be all right. I thought for once he had gone astray in his weather forecasting, but then almost immediately the sun came out. For a while I wondered which would stay, rain or sun. Was I overjoyed when it turned out to be the sun!
We went up to Gimmer and did Ash Tree Slabs – my first one on the northwest face – but it is not difficult, only the first of the severes in Langdale. I was fine in boots, but I don't suppose Rod was so happy, the rocks weren't yet dry. This was the first time I had worn boots on Gimmer and hence the first time I had not felt I was cheating. It was a fine climb and from the top we went on up Oliverson's. I had never been down a climb, when John had suggested going down Oliverson's. I am afraid I showed so little enthusiasm that we went down the Gully instead. Now Rod suggested going down 'Pallid Slabs'. I knew nothing about this climb, but I thought it was one of the first of the severes, so went down it and didn't find it too bad, so imagine my surprise when I got back and found it the sixteenth severe!, by far the best I have ever done.
We then went up Juniper Buttress (I knew where this was for we had wanted to do it that Sunday when it rained). I was so annoyed that on the last step down on Pallid Slabs, and on the first up on Juniper Buttress I used the rope – at least they were the bits nearest the ground I try to think.
We had lunch at the top – the views couldn't have been bettered. It was sunny and, after the rain, it was perfectly clear; we could see over to the Pennines etc. and there were still clouds in the sky to add to the interest of the view. It seemed such a little way down to our valley, and we watched how they were getting on at the farm by how the patterns were changing in the hay field.
Rod let me choose which climb we went down, suggesting 'Main Wall', 'Oliverson's' or 'A'. I decided on 'A' route, remembering how I had enjoyed going up it before, but I almost regretted that decision before I was down. I found it by far the most difficult that day. After I had been up it in rubbers, I though the book wrong in making it a severe at all, but this time, going down in boots, I should put it a long way past 'Pallid Slabs' – so perhaps the book is right after all!
I am afraid I ran down from Gimmer, despite my good resolution not to do so in borrowed boots.
The morning was so wet that no-one went out, but it started to clear towards mid-day, so everyone said they would be out for tea (it was my turn to be on for this had anyone been going to be in). As it was I could go with Jack, Rod and Steve. They were, or pretended to be, so impatient, waiting for me to finish washing up in the kitchen, that when I was at last through, I changed in such a hurry that I did not notice the weather. I took it for granted that it would be the same as the other days that week. All the mornings had been wet, but the afternoons were hot and sunny. We were well on our way before I noticed that this afternoon was very different. There was a terrific wind and fine rain. They had been going to go to Easedale, but went to White Ghyll Slabs instead. Getting there we kept warm walking and, at the foot of the climb, we tried to find shelter, but there was none, and the water was all running down off the rocks they thought were sheltering us.
The others dressed at this stage; I saw Jack put on three pullovers, and I still don't know whether he meant it, but he said he had two on already! Then Rod put on his super pullover made from ply? 26 of wool and, last but not least, Steve put on his scarf which went all round him twice!
When they started talking, I honestly nearly went home. The slabs were suggested, but then Rod said he did not like them. It seems it was here he abseiled down from the top of the first pitch when he had taken Florence and Alastair there after the day we had not got to Pillar. He started saying he preferred the chimney. Then they went on about that and about it being the hardest severe in Langdale!
We were on two ropes, Jack took Steve, then I was on Rodney's rope as he was afraid on these wet rocks he might want a rope down, and he would prefer to have it from Steve, and not from me. This was the only arrangement, but it meant that I had long waits, shivering, by myself, while all the others got up.
It was a wonderful climb; it was steep (as I imagined all climbs to be before I had done any climbing). The holds were small, but always there. It was of course a rubber climb, but not on a day like this.
At one point they all hesitated; I watched them and thought it could be simplified by using a different foothold. I tried this and of course found it impossible and had to do some very delicate manoeuvring to get back (if that gust of wind had been a moment sooner, I might have been dangling on the end of the rope!).
From the top we ran down the scree in the Gully and then along Jack's way through the fields to Grizedales for tea. It was almost sunny after that, and we met Miss Smith who was setting out for a walk – it was her off-day. I was back in time for a bath before 6.30.
It was nice to hear Jack. He said that it was good to come back and find yourself able to head up a climb like that on such a day, after a year away from the rocks.
It simply poured all the morning (or at least until we had finished the huts), but it cleared up towards mid-day. Before I was off in the afternoon, Helen came up and said if I would like a climb would I come down to the farm, with my boots on, as soon as possible – did I race! I found Teeny, Helen, Isaac, Mr. and Mrs. Meyers all talking; it seemed that Ken and Vic were going out and would take me as well. We went along to Mill Beck and borrowed Jack Cook's rope and went to Scout. We did the most interesting climb and then practiced on slabs. Very good practice I should imagine. At one point I tried an overhang, but I am afraid I accepted a hand in place of a hold I couldn't find.
In the morning Jack suggested a climb that afternoon, weather permitting! Olive also spoke to me, she had heard I had done a lot of climbing! She was desperately keen to try, so I put her onto Jack. In the afternoon, Olive (all dressed up for climbing, although she was only coming to watch?) and another lad who was coming only for the walk (he had no clinkers) and I set out for Gimmer.
We thought we had lost Olive on the way up, but she reappeared at the foot of it, after we had started the climb.
The morning had been breezy and showery, and as we set out there was a heavy shower, from which we sheltered by Middlefell Farm. I was afraid we should spend all the afternoon there, for it got very dark, but it cleared again and we set off. Jack wasn't too happy about the wind, but we started up 'C' route. The first pitch it shares with 'A' and 'B', but then it branches and goes straight up the crag, while the others meander about.
This next pitch Jack warned me was 'strenuous' and he emphasised the only way to get up the first bit. I got up eventually, but my poor wrists! For the rest of that pitch I was terribly slow and had to keep asking what to do, for my hands were useless; however, they recovered at the belay and I was able thoroughly to enjoy the rest. It was a lovely climb with views onto "Wall End" and then over towards Windermere the whole way.
We went down the gully, met Olive and had tea (much too little and I had packed it myself). Jack then took Olive up 'Main Wall'; there was not enough rope for me as well, but I had been up it before.
By the evening, the sky was cloudless and my boots had just been resoled so I thought I would try them out. I went up the Band and from the Three Tarns cut across country towards Esk Hause. This was good practice for the boots, but I didn't like the nails (triple hobs). By then the sun was behind the hills and I wanted to see it again, so I went on up Great End. It was marvellous up there in the sun, watching the mist roll over Gable.
I came down to Esk Hause and home the usual way; darkness came as I was going down Rossett. It was such a lovely starlight night that I felt so sorry for the guests having to be in at 7.30 if they wanted any dinner and so missing this time of the evening.
It was a glorious day, so I determined to make the most of my 5 spare hours in the afternoon and get to the top of Scawfell itself. I knew there should be plenty of time if I set out at 2 o'clock, but there was to be a complication! I might have got out before 2 o'clock, but I had left my watch on the window ledge when I started the washing up, and they found it in the sink when they finished. I knew I shouldn't enjoy the walk without a watch, so I had to wait. They dried it in the sun, but then said it must be oiled, but the best thing they could find was Eric's bike grease!
At 2.20 or so I set out; half way up Rossett I checked my watch and found it was 5 minutes slow, so I concluded that it was losing, as I had been warned to expect. I went on, over the top of the Pike, down to Mickledore and then up Broad Stand. At the interesting bit, two climbers who were coming down, offered to give me a hand up. Fortunately I didn’t need it, although I felt less safe with triple hobs than I had in un-nailed shoes. I could see those climbers' point of view though; I must have looked funny in my dress, just as I had worked in the morning, no coat, and unwashed, so that if anyone had looked closely they would have seen black on my arms. They told me it was only a quarter of an hour to the top, and the way proved to be a very pleasant scramble, with wonderful views down the cliffs.
At the top I admired the view – all out to sea etc. and asked two others there the time. They hadn't a watch, but one had just worked it out with a compass and made it 5 o'clock. My watch said it was 5.10, so I hoped it wasn't far out (on top of the Pike it had been 5 minutes fast by someone else's watch).
I hurried down, the same way as I had come up for I hadn't time to find Lords Rake. At the top of the Pike my watch said 6 o'clock, so I knew I should have to hurry. That was the worst of it, having to go the same way both times. I went at a normal pace until I got to the top of Rossett and here my watch said 7 o'clock. I knew that I had taken 70 minutes to get here in the afternoon and I also knew that by myself I should not get down it much quicker than I had got up. I hurried as much as I could and, from the bottom, ran along all the smooth bits, then put my watch back ¼ hour and got back at 7.35 according to it. I got in the hut and found Edna still there and she informed that it was only 7.15. I had time to change before I was on at 7.30.
I caught the 5.28 to Waterloo, where I met Irene. We had a meal at the Strand Corner House and then went on to Euston and found corner seats in the train. As we had plenty of time, everything had gone smoothly; we were served immediately, there was no queue for tickets etc., with the result that there was an hour and a half to spare. The train was practically empty; we had two others in our carriage as far as Crewe, but we had it to ourselves for the rest of the journey.
At Windermere we took a taxi to Ambleside (there was no bus in time to catch our early bus to the D.G.).
This was the best weather I have had for this trip along the road from Windermere to Langdale; there was sun and clouds over the hills.
We found that the party (led by Norman who was Sec. again) were going to Tarn Hows. Wyn, Betty, Irene and I had our lunches packed together and at first we wondered about going up something (for Langdale, the weather was good). When the other two decided to go with the party. I thought of doing the same, despite Betty's disappointment at my decision. Before we set out I went down to the farm and renewed my acquaintance with the climbers and Miss Clarke and some of the animals.
Just before the party started out, the sun came out again; that did it, I separated Betty's and my lunch and we set off up the Band. From Three Tarns we kept more or less along a contour round Yeastyrigg Crags (according to the map), went down to Eskdale and up Cam Spout to Mickledore, where we had our lunch. Then we started up Broad Stand; Betty didn't seem very happy, but I persuaded her past the first corner. On the next bit I didn't seem able to help her and she liked the thought of going down no better than that of going up, so I asked two climbers if I could borrow their rope to get her down. They were passing at that moment and I knew that if I didn't ask them then, there might not be any others. Of course, they behaved like typical climbers and took Betty up instead of down, and were most helpful generally, but I was so ashamed of myself. Firstly, taking anyone, who was obviously ill-prepared (training and dress) up there, and then when I used the rope myself over that one bit.
The mist obscured the view over the sea. We came down Lords Rake (I was glad the climbers were still with us, I should never have found it by myself) and then came home over the Pike.
The party were going over the Langdales and coming back for tea. We went up the Gully I had used several times last summer for running down and then on and up Harrison. The wind was very strong and cold up on the plateau. We went on and over High Raise and started down towards Greenup, but had lunch where we hoped it was a little sheltered. We were so glad to get going again and get warm afterwards.
We went down Greenup and the party started going back up the Stake leaving Marion to go by herself to meet Rhys at Rosthwaite. Wyn, Rene and I stayed at the parting of the ways for some time wondering what to do. The other two did not feel like the long walk back, so Wyn and I had planned to go back with the party and after tea borrow a rope and go to Middlefell, but we could see that by now it was raining in our valley (even if the wind would have let us consider climbing), so I decided to go with Marion and ran after her. Presently, Betty came running after us, not wanting to miss anything.
We arrived in Rosthwaite about 2.30, but had to wait an hour for Rhys who was waiting up the way he thought we should come and not at the post-office as per arrangement. We knew if we met Rhys we should have something to remember to the end of our days. We thought it would be Rhys' account of how he had got there. We didn't know it would be our journey home!
It would have been all right if he had been there by himself, or even if he had only had the two he had taken to Newlands from Wiltshire with him, but Chris was there as well – the two of them had been climbing in Borrowdale that morning. Chris of course remembered my passion for climbing and thought I would like to climb in the Dove Caves, Glaramara. I pointed out that I had on my old boots, that it was going to rain, and that we should never get back in time, but they wouldn't be put off, so of course I did not try to think up any other reasons why I should not climb.
Marion wasn't keen on the idea, but they told her she would be practically on the top of Glaramara before they left her, so she came. As we passed the entrance to the Stake, I pointed it out, but no-one took any notice; in any case, if Marion had gone that way, Betty would not, and Marion was much quicker than Betty. The other two from Newlands turned back at Rosthwaite, after we had had a cup of tea at the cottage opposite the Royal Oak and the rest of us set off up Combe Ghyll.
We just got to some rocks below the caves before the rain and we stayed there some time thinking we were sheltering. Climbing now was out of the question, so they pointed out on the map our way back (over Glaramara and Allen Crags!). At the mention of the latter I remembered the experiences of Dorothy and Ginger, when they had a night out on those Crags. Our way back was over a fold in the map, so I didn't notice until I got back that in actual distance we had nearly as far to go as Rhys and Chris. I could not see the sense in staying where we were any longer, so I led the way on without saying goodbye, or anything, which the others seemed to think was strange.
We struggled up against the wind, which was strong all the time, but occasionally there would be a gust which had so much force that if I did not get flat on the ground in time, it would send me running full speed down the slope, which I had just got up with so much effort. It was so hard going up, that once we had gained a few feet, we would not lose that height in going round some crags and we traversed across them (a good job the gusts did not come on parts of this).
We got to the col between Rosthwaite Fell and Glaramara (and saw the Stake Pass with a drop nearly to sea level between), and continued round at this height, along the east side of Glaramara and Allen Crags. I could not keep warm at the pace we were going and I found my 'proofed' jacket was not in the least water-proof, but my 'plush-trousers' (as Wyn called them) seemed to be standing up to it.
While waiting for the others on Esk Hause, I began to wonder whether someone had a bonfire on the slopes of Allen Crags, but it was only the wind blowing a little waterfall uphill.
We arrived back an hour and twenty minutes late, but Miss Smith really was sweet about it; she was all sympathy. We blamed the wind and certainly from how it sounded in the huts you could imagine it was pretty terrific on the tops.
We were very glad of our dinner; all the tea we had had was a sandwich from Rhys, and then Betty divided her tea between us.
I did feel so sorry for Marion; I went thinking she would be glad of my company back over the Stake – and then I let her in for this, although I was against the idea myself.
That night the wind even kept me awake.
It poured all morning and I did not think of going out; it cleared towards mid-day, so in the afternoon, Irene, Betty and I went for a walk (there were only light showers). We went up by Blea Tarn; Irene says she likes it without trees, so I am trying to see it from a different point of view now.
Just before Little Langdale, we turned off the road and went by the track by Dale End to Elterwater; it was lovely through the woods and looking down the valley. I could appreciate this sort of peaceful country after the wild day we had had on Sunday. At Chapel Stile we waited for the bus, hoping Wyn would be on it, but as she wasn't we went down to the Langdales and had tea (and read up their log book). We walked back along the road; I called in at the new D.G. and saw Helen, but I had a longer chat with her in the evening when she came home.
Until the last moment on Monday night, I had fully intended going with Norman's party to see the waterfalls in their full glory and have lunch in Grasmere, but right at the last minute I had the chance to join Wyn and Roy who were climbing!
It was showery at first, but we soon set out towards Scout. We tried first on the boulder below, and then did the more difficult of the two 50 ft. climbs (I am afraid I demanded that the rope should be tighter at one point!). Wyn of course got up without difficulty. This was the first time I had worn my Laurie's boots on the rocks and the nails were fine.
We then went on to Scout proper and went up Route 2. If I was far from brilliant on it, at least I got up the nose a little better than the first time I went up it last summer. We came down and had our lunch and tried to shelter from the rain. We tried to get in the cave, but Wyn who was furthest in thought she would prefer rain to 'creepies'. We then started up Route 1, leaving out the crack at the bottom, but half way up it started to hail. Roy was a pitch higher up than Wyn and I, and we stayed where we were fully exposed to it all until it slackened and then we all came down. It was 3.30 and time I went back in any case. I hurried back to Wall End, getting very wet and had a wash, changed, packed my things and gave Miss Smith my boots to look after and then had tea with the staff before hurrying off to catch the bus. I had another soaking on the way to the D.G.; I passed some of the party who had bussed back from Ambleside.
At Ambleside I had time to buy the other three climbers' guides before catching the bus to Windermere. At Windermere I walked down to the lake; it was sunny by then and I got the things I was wearing pretty dry. Back at the station I got a carriage to myself and took out the wet things from my case and spread them out to dry, but once we started other people soon came in and I had to put them away. It wasn't like the Friday night; the troops were travelling again.
At Euston I tried to enquire my way to Waterloo, but everyone directed me back the way I had come, so I gave it up and caught the underground, which meant I did not get into Basingstoke until 8.13, but it didn't seem to matter.
I caught the 7.20 or so train to Waterloo and decided to walk to Euston so that I should know the way back in case I had to walk it. On the way, I called on Betty and collected my compass, and then went on to the station where I was in time to get a corner seat. We were eight in the carriage as far as Preston, which was where I first saw Rhys. He had only had to stand the first 10 hours of his journey! (i.e. as far as Warrington).
At Windermere we were only able to get a taxi as far as Troutbeck Bridge, from where we had to walk the rest of the way to Ambleside. I walked as fast as I could, but I think my pace rather disgusted Rhys; however, we caught the 6.55 bus to the D.G. where we were met by Ellen who was seeing some of the guests off, and soon Wyn arrived. They were both so sunburnt, Ellen from the last ten days, which had been an absolute heat-wave and Wyn from the day before when she had been up Gable. We also met for the first time Gertrude and Norah who were staying for another week and Geoff who was staying until Monday.
When the bus actually went, we returned to "Wall End" where I found myself sharing 'Mickelden' with Wyn who was staying until Wednesday.
It was a horrid morning, there was a thick mist which might indicate more heat-wave, or that the weather had broken, and until the evening I had no view of the hills at all.
We wasted the morning seeing people off on the 10.40 bus, and then wasted the afternoon until nearly 4 o'clock, when we went down to the old D.G. for tea so that we could see how the queue was forming for Ellen's bus. It was a real Cumberland tea – six different sorts of cake! After seeing Ellen off, we returned, but couldn't do justice to the H.F. tea. We then changed and went to Middlefell, but started at the second pitch and finished before the last! We hadn't a watch and we knew that with four on the rope (Wyn, Geoff and I, led by Rhys), we were pretty slow (actually we got back by 7.15).
It was fine, although cloudy, so we made the most of it and took out our lunch. We went to Pavey Ark, but only managed two climbs, being four on the rope held us up again. We did Great Gully, but I am afraid that, unlike last year, I finished it the easy way. Rhys led up the 'very difficult scoop'; I tried to follow but tried the way further to the left and found it hopeless and had to accept Geoff's shoulder to get down, so I followed Wyn up the way to the right.
We then did Gwynne's Chimney; in a way I was glad the others came to the same conclusion as I had last year, when I found it one of the hardest I did, and not just the first of the 'd's as the book says.
Rhys had to have two tries at the lat pitch; when I came to it, remembering Rodney's advice, I went up the 'pleasant' way to the right, but I could quite see Rhys' point in not wanting to lead up that way.
At the top we decided we should be too late for tea, so Rhys and I went on to Scout, leaving the other two to go straight back. Again we hadn't a watch, so we did the 50 ft. climb below (for which I gave Rhys a rope) and then Route 1, and then returned; we were back just before 8.30.
The evening was rather a washout; Geoff, on music, wasn't at all good, and then the Sec. on 'insurance' was ten times worse. The walk afterwards was a much better idea; it was a bit more sensible than the walk the night before, when Wyn and Rhys decided that it would cause a suitable sensation if Rhys sat down cross-legged in the road and then stood up with Wyn standing on his shoulders, but they thought they ought to practice it first, and it didn't work very well!
Geoff went home, so the three of us set out for Bowfell. This was the last day we were silly enough to go out without a watch. We did the Neckband first of all. I thought we would get up it in not much more than 20 minutes, as Charles and I had shown last summer when we were hurrying down after the Buttress, but we were much slower and I am now not so sure that it does not deserve its 'vd'.
Wyn of course kept us amused, if it was only when she took off one boot and did a pitch in one boot and one stockinged foot.
We had our lunch at the top, where we had left our rucksack, and then went on to the Buttress, enquiring the time from some people on the way. We did the first two pitches of the Buttress; at the chimney I tried to keep well out, but wasn't too successful. We then saw a sheep on a grass ledge to the right; it was still alive, but very exhausted. It had eaten all the grass on that ledge. We lowered it on the rope to the foot of the cliff and left it on the first grassy patch and went back to our climb.
It was so strange, at the crack I started yelling for a tight rope. Now the first time I did the climb, I couldn't remember the Crack at all afterwards, so presumably I got up it without difficulty. The second time I did it, I got up the Crack all right, but had quite a struggle and now this time I couldn't do it!
From the top of the Buttress we went down to the foot of the Cambridge Climb, from where we looked across to our sheep; we saw that it had moved a little, but not much, so I kept the others waiting while I took it across some water. I had to pour it down its throat and after I had done that it didn't move at all.
We started up the Cambridge Climb. After the Buttress, this (a diff.) ought to have been nothing, but we had great difficulty with it. It was in the 'traverse left to the second of two grass nooks' pitch that I was holding Wyn's rope behind, and when she slipped I kept it tight, while actually she was only slipping to where Rhys could help her. When it came to my turn, I was very glad of Rhys; I could never have got across by myself.
The next pitch included the 'Hell's Loose' Stone that was not very pleasant as you sent a shower of earth down on yourself and those below. The next pitch was the 'pleasant’ chimney. Wyn turned back at the foot of this and Rhys and I climbed to the top; we realised by then that it must be late, so we scrambled down to the right of the climb and hurried to Stool End as fast as we could. Here we found that it was 7.40, so we hurried the rest of the way back after telling them about the sheep.
We were 20 minutes late for dinner and missed the soup.
In the evening Olive spoke to us; she said Bob was a climber and had a rope and was dying to do some climbing, could he come with us? We said yes, and suggested the next day when we were hoping to go to Gable, but they already had plans for that, so we suggested Wednesday.
It was much too wet for us to go to Gable and, after a long time, we thought the only thing to do was to leave our rope behind and catch up the party who were going to Tarn Hows. We chased them to where they turned off the Little Langdale road for Tilberthwaite and then turned round, and saw our valley in the sun, while it was black in front of us, so we turned back and went by the path the other side of Blea Tarn to "Wall End", where we arrived about 12 o'clock and Miss Smith said we could have a cup of tea when it was ready.
It was showery, so we sat down on the floor of our hut, and had our lunch and then had our cup of tea afterwards.
We then set off for Kettle Crags, having our first bilberries on the way. We found the 'wide, grassy gully', to which we thought the book referred, and the two Ash Trees between which the 'major slab' should begin, but it was so wet and there were no scratches and the climbs were much too hard for us, so we went on up towards the top of Blisco. On the way we were sheltering from a hail shower under the H.G. cape and had our tea there (nearly as silly a meal as our lunch had been). We went on up Blisco and tried to find the 'bits' Chris had taken us on that first Easter. The first familiar one was the isolated bit of rock where both Wyn and I had struggled before; then we went on and found more scrambling further round. Wyn found one way down, and then Rhys and I came down it (we needed a lot of advice!). Lastly, we found 'the flake' where we had watched so many others before; I gave Rhys a rope down for this (I do wish I could have seen him); he was up in no time and Wyn said he did it perfectly. Next, I tried it. I was glad I had said I was only trying it to convince myself I couldn't do it, for I turned back before the difficult bit!
On the way down, Wyn and I had the same brilliant idea at the same instant; we both thought that if we cycled to Coniston we could climb on Dow and Wyn could then go straight on to Windermere. It would save us having to get back to "Wall End" by 5 o'clock.
It was a wonderful day, quite sunny at times. Bob and Olive had an early breakfast and set off to walk to the foot of the climb. We set out about 9.30, Wyn on her own bike and Rhys and I on two from the farm. We left the bikes at the station, changed and walked to Dow. Near Goatswater there was a shower (hail), so we sheltered under the cape again, and then went up to the cave and had our lunch. Wyn told us about the historic connections of the cave.
About 12.30, Olive and Bob arrived. Bob had a little lunch and left Olive to freeze in the cave while he came with us to the foot of 'B' Buttress. He did not want to lead, but we persuaded him to take me while Rhys took Wyn. We found what we hoped was the foot of 'Giants Crawl' (980 ft. of a diff.) and set off up it, Rhys leading. The climb didn't correspond perfectly and at the second pitch Rhys was afraid it wasn't the right climb and hesitated, with the result that Bob volunteered to go first. Of course that suited me, for I very much prefer to be second, to being last, but it was a shame for Rhys was a ten times better climber.
After a few feet, Bob thought he had found the belay the book talked about, so tied on and brought me up to there, then he decided he didn't like the stance, so set me on leading the next 25 ft. Of course, I was thrilled, but it rather took off to think how typical of Bob that was.
I went first again, nearer the top, but perhaps that was my fault. The book said 'The overhanging crack is climbed with some difficulty'. I mentioned that I was not very good at overhangs, remembering 'Amen Corner' on Gimmer, so Bob suggested I should try it to see whether I could get up. At the top I tied on and started to bring up Bob and looking at the book at the same time, with the result that the loose leaves flew out. I was perfectly helpless, thanks to my excellent belay, but Bob was able to rescue them before they went over the edge.
We scrambled up to the top and then down the grass buttress to the cave to Olive, who had kept very cheerful and fed us on chocolate. Bob suggested that they would have to start their walk back immediately, so the rest of us looked out 'Woodhouse's Route' (the 'most popular climb on the crag') and before he was half way up the first pitch, Rhys was telling us what a wonderful climb it was. Wyn changed into rubbers for the 'scratched wall', but I think I had it easier in boots (I could 'jam' my foot so much more easily).
I mucked up the last optional bit completely; I saw Wyn and Rhys find two different ways, then I tried to find a third way for myself, but I was not successful. We then hurried down Easy Terrace and back to Coniston.
It had been a wonderful day and Wyn decided she must start a campaign to popularise the Crag among Wall-Enders, next time she is there. We really had a perfect day for it; there was a cold wind and stormy clouds the whole time, but occasionally the sun shone, and it was so lovely out towards the Duddon Estuary and the sea, and then there were all the different shades of blue in Goatswater, on which the wind was blowing up white horses.
We left Coniston at exactly 6.30 and were back just as the bell went for dinner, but I am afraid we didn't leave Wyn much time for a meal before her train.
Rhys and I were gong to Scawfell and, at Bob's suggestion, thought we might try 'Moss Ghyll'. We started reading it up in the book, but then gave it us, as it seemed to be all chimneys.
I had hoped we might be able to start about 9 o'clock, but we were both orderlies, so we waited for the party who were going up to Three Tarns, but we left them when they started to rest half way up Hell Ghyll and we arrived at the col an hour and a quarter after the time I had originally hoped and we didn't seem to make up for lost time on the way down to Eskdale. However, it was just before 1 o'clock when we stopped for lunch at the stream, just this side of Mickledore. I wish the walker who had offered us a cup of tea half way up Cam Spout had been a bit higher, for it had been so hot walking, but we hadn't 20 minutes to spare, while the water boiled.
After lunch we went over the ridge and down towards Lords Rake, stopping at the lowest point on the cliffs where I hoped our climb began. Hoping to save time, I lost all my dignity and asked two walkers who were passing if they knew where Moss Ghyll began, but they didn't; however, we soon concluded that we were right.
The chimney with the chockstone was rather forbidding looking, and so wet and cold, but it wasn't impossible, and all the other chimneys which had sounded so bad in the book turned out to be short and easy. The names amused me so (the 'tennis Court' and 'Window Sill' etc.). 'The Collie Step' was too short to be frightening, in any case the holds were quite adequate.
From the Amphitheatre we continued by the Collie exit to the top where we had tea and then scrambled down Broad Stand and up to the top of the Pike where we looked at the view. I have never seen it so clear, the Isle of Man and Scotland looked no distance away. We continued home via Rossett at a very steady pace; we thought we would have plenty of time for a change and aimed to be back by 7.30, but actually we were in time for a bath before dinner. This was a good job because, afterwards, we were orderly, and then I helped the staff do the potatoes for the next day, and finally had a cup of tea with them, which ended by the cook telling my fortune!
We had planned to go with Olive and Bob, and perhaps John and Violet to Gable, but it poured all morning, so we stayed in amusing ourselves with the table tennis etc.
In the afternoon, we resolved to go out whatever the weather; fortunately it cleared, so after our 12 o'clock lunch, the six of us set out for Scout. Rhys and I went up route 2, leaving out the severe crack! and came down and were going on to Gimmer, when Bob started asking us about a belay on Route 1. He did not want to take Olive up without that belay, so Rhys went up that route, taking me up, and we sent the rope down to Bob, who went up on it to the next belay.
The others watched us go up that slightly exposed part of route 1 and they were full of praise for Rhys. I liked Violet's 'polar bear' simile. I hoped it would give him confidence for Gimmer, for which we set out as soon as we were able.
I managed to find Ash Tree Ledge without difficulty and we had our tea there; then I looked at the book and we started up a way which was quite familiar to me and seemed to correspond to Oliverson's. All went well for the first two pitches, and then it didn't seem right at all. I was quite lost until I looked round the corner and saw 'Amen Corner' and realised we were on 'A' route (I had forgotten the cairn at the foot of Oliverson's was missing. Amen Corner looked much more forbidding than I had remembered; it made me a little less ashamed of myself for not having got up it.
If only Rhys had brought his rubbers he might have tried 'A' or 'B'; he had a look at the corner of 'A', but wasn't too keen, also I don't suppose he really believed that it led onto Oliverson's, so we went down to Ash Tree Ledge, consoling ourselves with the thought that the practice in climbing down was good for us.
At the bottom we thought there was just time to sort out Oliverson's and hope the knowledge would be useful to us the next day. I am sure Rhys appreciated the possibilities of Gimmer by now. Rhys led up the first pitch of Oliverson's and then I started along the second to see if I could recognise any of it and I did. I recognised the nose where Bert and Arthur had wished they had a camera the year before and of which I have a post card.
We then hurried down and would have been in plenty of time if I hadn't thought of that first pitch of Middlefell. We went across to it and I got up past the bit where I had trouble before, so then came down and went round and gave Rhys a rope down. He was up in no time. We coiled the rope as quickly as possible and hurried down and were only 10 minutes late for dinner.
In the evening I packed and then went up the Blea Tarn road, making myself perfectly miserable. I had chosen just the right (or wrong at the end of the holiday) time. The sun was shining on the valley through stormy clouds over Rossett and I have never seen the valley look more green and beautiful.
It wasn't raining early, so Rhys and I set off for Gimmer, although it looked as if it would pour at any moment. It was very hot on the way up and we were in mist for the scramble up to Ash Tree Ledge. From then on the mist gave the most wonderful effects; the bits kept coming and going and I kept watching the tops of Blisco, Bowfell etc. coming out of the mist, but the weather steadily worsened and it was very wet before we got to the top.
On the third pitch, I climbed over the two belays on Forty-foot Corner and was trying to get up to the top, when Rhys gave me a pull. Really I was very glad, for my hands were getting colder and colder; the rocks were soaking and felt freezing cold by then, and at least I hadn't asked for help. Rhys said that if he hadn't done it then he mightn't have been able to later.
From the Crows Nest I went on first to the summit; as usual I tried to point out the delights of the Crows Nest, but it sounded so silly on a day like this. At the top of the Southeast Gully, we had our lunch, but it was too cold for even Rhys to eat much. We thought of the others having a hot meal down below!
From the time we took getting down the gully, I knew that another climb was impossible, so I passed the chimney without too much regret.
I lost the path on the way down, but wasn't too sorry as it enabled me to rediscover my scree gully, which is my quick way off the Langdales, i.e. from Pavey Ark etc.
We arrived back before 2 o'clock, just in time for a cup of tea and I found Marjorie of the Guildford Rambling Club had arrived and was starting her fortnight's holiday; it was very nice to chat to her.
I had a bath and changed and then we went down to the D.G. with Olive and Bob for tea, and John who went back before tea. Unlike the week before I did justice to that real Cumberland tea. There was plenty of room on the bus. In Ambleside Rhys and Bob tried to get some guides, but had to be content with the Pillar and Scawfell ones.
In Windermere, Olive and Bob found that the train before hadn't yet gone, so caught it, leaving Rhys and I to walk down to Bowness (but there was no view) before having a meal at the Cleray Hotel and catching the 8.35.
Rhys got out at Crewe and my carriage filled up, so I went in the one next door and had three quarters of a seat to myself, so I dozed quite a bit on my way to Euston.
At Euston at 4 o'clock I couldn't find an empty seat, so I walked in the drizzle to the Coventry Street Corner House for breakfast before catching the train to Woking where I spent the morning with Frank.