It was probably about -8 when Diver-Driver, Dr Ali and I set off up Pule Hill at 8pm on a frosty Monday night. The air was crystal clear and there was still lots of snow on the ground from the week before. I don’t think we’d got off the track that leads up to Intake Head Farm before Diver-Driver’s appreciation of mine and Dr Ali’s comedic and intensely funny Scottish accents wore off. By the time we arrived at the air shaft Diver Driver was walking off into the darkness by himself and threatening an early bath. Gritting his teeth he stuck with it and was still there to provide a flask of fortifying brandy on the summit of Pule. This along with Dr Ali’s hip flask of whiskey warmed the cockles and raised the spirits as expected.
Under shooting stars we set off down towards Worlow Quarry then followed ‘the bumps’ down to Hades Farm where we paused again to take on more fortification and admire the stars. We were back down to the village and in the pub by 10 where we were greeted by several chaps drinking whilst huddled round the only source of heat in the place – a small fan heater perched on the bar. Happy days. 🙂
Phew, finally caught up. With the lads up a Cairngorm at the weekend a reduced party (Diver Driver, Dr Crowe and Michael) took to the crags on Mother Pule. A first proper Monday night out, the longest day and a beautiful evening.
First up Flying Buttress, it still needs a minimum of 3 pieces of gear in the vertical crack, a bit of faith onto the ledge and some awkwardness to feel around the horizontal bulges but the handholds are as good as ever.
Fraser led a corner (next to the hideous green scoop) with aplomb and to round off Dr Crowe had a go at Square Buttress. The first go ended with a Dr Ali-like lunge for the main break. It was followed by a Dr Ali-like pendulum across the face. All the year’s experience came into play – if at first you don’t succeed then light a cheroot and have another go, and so it went, with bats flying around and a curlew and an owl calling at opposite ends of the hill. Dusk came and we went to the pub. Marvellous.
“Where’s Pots and Pans?” … “In de cupboard under de sink”. Actually it’s here.
We’ve been twice – first time in the lower, right quarry with some enticing lines and some not very enticing lichen covering the rock. Woody and Dr Crowe emboldened by the Dr’s rercent downclimbing practice backed off a number of difficult routes. The Prof soloed the unprotectable arete. Steves Tuck and Fraser and Dr Ali sensibly led two severe(?) routes.
The second visit saw Sharpey, the Prof, Diver Driver, Mr Tuck, the two Drs and Michael take on assorted boulders and in various combinations attempt the obvious hs (?) route in the left quarry. This was led by Dr Crowe who was then hauled up the adjacent HVS crack by Dr Ali in the spirit of some experimental cheating.
Better sport was to be had in the higher quarry behind on Pans led by Ali which had much better friction and turned out to be a quality lead. Tuck and the Prof took a route to the right which turned out to be challenging – not least because of loose rock on the route, loose rock coming onto the route from above and a spectacularly stuck pice of gear. A really atmospheric spot, great views and sheltered with loads of bouldering scattered about as well. We’ll be back…
Our first trip to Pule, Drs Ali and Crowe, Mr Tuck and the Prof. A stark reminder of the off width and bulgy, slightly overhanging nature of the quarry. The forgotten art of downclimbing was retrieved from our collective unconscious. I think each pair only completed one climb as a pair. Certainly Dr Crowe and the Prof had to lay seige to a crack that was just out of their reach – a bit like the Ottomans trying to take Vienna – each attempt adding another piece of gear. The Prof finally hit the move needed to take the top. Dr Crowe in a fit of ambition demonstrated the lack of balance that keeps his belayers on their toes and fell off soimething he’d led last year. Truly going backwards. A beautiful evening and the first post-sunset finish needing headtorches in order to abseil down to retrieve (or not) bits of stuck gear.
Dr Crowe and Woody had a quiet evening out at Buckstones above the road trying out a few problems at the right hand end of the outcrop above the road.
Also a few repeats of some of the slippery critters from the previous week.
Our first Monday night out of the season saw a fine turnout of stout chaps. Mr Tuckle, Drs Ali & Crowe, Andy Wood and Diver Driver. Off we went up to Buckstones, without a guide, for a splendid evening of bouldering fun.
With the good Drs Ali and Crowe opting for Huddersfield climbing wall Mr Tuckle decides to take advantage of the last of the snow before the thaw. Deciding against Black Hill I opted for a trudge up Pule Hill, a much safer bet on my own.
The lane leading up to the A62
Some interesting snow drifts have formed on the old farm track
My initials peed into the snow. Some people never grow up. I blame the parents
I don’t think anybody will know which way I came
My foot disappeared down a snow covered hole. Looking back I realised I had wandered too far right and had ended up over the gulley with a stream in the bottom. As I tried to push myself back out with my left foot it too began to slip down the bank into the gulley. Waste deep, I scrambled out. Realising that the conditions were a little too rough to be tackled alone I broke open my flask, had a coffee and made my way back down.
I put my time to good use by building a snowman which, on reflection looks a little scary. His name is Jim. Follow snowmanjim on twitter
I bade Jim the snowman farewell and set off for home
After all the trudging through deep snow it was good to be back in the village.
“Black Hill is most northerly of the three great gritstone and peat plateaux which dominate the Dark Peak region of the Peak District. Smaller in area and lower than either Kinder or Bleaklow it is nonetheless a remote and bleak place to be in bad weather” – Peak District Information
That said, we are all experienced with map and compass, we know the area very well (and how to get off in bad visibilility), were suited and booted correctly and were carrying a couple of rucksacks full of emergency equipment… Oh and Dr Crowe had his cheroots.
Ey up Sharpy, Dr Ali, The Prof and Dr Crowe
We arived in Holme – the start of our walk – slightly late due to a puncture and some misdirection by me. More snow was falling and the Prof and Sharpy were already there waiting for us. After gearing up we set off just before 9pm. With visibilility aided by the snowlight the slog up Issues Road (track) was done without head torches. The row of dead moles pinned to the barbed wire fence like washing on a line made for a slightly eerie sight. I can only assume that this is how the farmers around Holme warn off any other moles thinking of encroaching on their turf.
Things started to get interesting at the end of Issues Road where the snow deepened and the path disapeared under it. After crossing the stream we stopped to check our course but Dr Ali and Sharpy were doing a fine job of navigating and we were soon heading up the steeper section leading to the Pennine Way. With the snow ranging from ankle to almost knee deep my tired legs were soon longing for solid ground. It never came. The snow just got deeper.
Dr Ali’s excellent navigation skills found us at the large cairn which we knew was at the top of the main path before the last summit section. After several false summits we came across two small sticks pushed into the snow which Dr Crowe aptly named the slalom gate. The chaps who came up here on the New Year’s Day run recognised these as being close to the summit trig point. After 2 attempts to find the trig point from this location we decided that enough was enoough and – not wanting to create so many foot prints so as to confuse our route off – we set off back down.
I was dissapointed to have not found the trig point but soon realised we had made the right decision. The 12 inch deep footprints that we had left in the snow on our way up only 20 minutes earlier had all but disapeared. The snow, so fine and powdery that it felt more like fine sand, coupled with the strong wind and further snow fall had completely covered our tracks. Again Dr Ali, compass in hand, led us expertly and safely past the gulley and down to where we knew we were on safe ground and we soon found ourselves on the trudge down Issues Road and back to the cars completing another fine adventure.
It’s been a good year for the Marsden Monday night-ers. Reasonably good weather meant early season outdoor outings to boulder at Pule, Standedge (3 times?), Buckstones and as is traditional,West Nab providing the infamous Mr Tuck horizontal buttock jam (photos provided by Sharpey).
West Nab, as nature intended
Three men and a rock
Mr Tuck contemplates the head jam
Mr Tuck tops out
Mr Tuck releases himself from the infamous West Nab buttock jam
A dynamic finish for the Tuckmeister
Diver Driver gets his leg over at the end of the night
Remembering to make it look worthwhile for the camera
In amongst this were some dedicated trad climbs most often on Pule where Square Buttress finally succumbed to the persistent charms of Dr Crowe and Mr Tuckle. On the other hand, later on in the season, Dr Crowe (and most of his gear) succumbed to the indifference of a greasy Flying Buttress. Due to fine belaying by Mr Tuck serious injury was avoided. Further afield the quarry at Standedge repelled all boarders in a fit of overhanging chossy offwidth shite. Trips further afield to Standing Stones in June and Alderman’s Rocks in gave good value and established our credentials at a reasonable VS 4b/c for leading. Dr Crowe and Mr Tuck enjoyed a fine late May bank holiday afternoon at Alderman’s leading four routes and soloing another five – thereby doubling what they’d done all year outdoors! A repeat trip in June saw Diver Driver take his first outdoor lead, the second pitch of Rib and Face. Hobson’s Moor Quarry in Stalybridge in July gave up Crew’s Route (VS 4c again) before night set in and drove Drs Crowe and Ali back circuitously to the Riverhead.
Other activity started to take place outside outside of a Monday night. Dr Crowe and Andy Wood had a bright afternoon skiving off work and childcare duties at Ravenstones, knocking off a couple of easy routes (it was only June after all) and spotting that Birchen Clough might have some autumnal promise. The same pairing took on Slanting Buttress Ridge Route described elsewhere (Wet Wet Wet) but in between times at the back end of August they had a great day out on the East Face of Tryfan. Slightly unpromising weatherwise, they took second position in the queue for Grooved Arete (HVDiff 244 metres) a fantastic 8 pitch wonder that I’m sure I’ve written up somewhere. It included just about everything: ribs, faces, cracks and a traverse. The crowning glory was a steep gulley descent (North Gulley) that led us to the foot of Belle Vue Bastion (VS 48 metres) which was an absolute joy, good gear, exposed position, some lovely moves the best of which were at the start of pitch two. the two together made for a really great day out.
Another Monday night, another bunch of feeble excuses (bellyaching, babysitting, birthday) the worst of all time being “I’ve been on a history walk. In Sheffield”. A history walk. In Sheffield. Just let that one sink in a moment. This left Dr Crowe and Mr Tuck a free hand to chance their arms at a little gulley number spotted by Dr Crowe as a possibility when once he was upon the Raven Stones. A plan previously hatched on the train home from work over a battered Ordnance Survey map named the object of their desire: Birchen Clough.
Birchen Clough
Usual time pressed departure, Mr Tuck hurling himself into Uppermill Spa en route for booze and chocolate – apparently not for us so what with the excuses and this most recent disappointment the evening wasn’t shaping up very well. Fortunately things changed when we got to Binn Green car park where we met with clear skies with a low, spectacularly delicate cloud formation. Several layers of waterproofs later we set off along the reservoir track towards Greenfield Reservoir. Headtorches dimming (all that early autumn activity on Pule Hill) we stopped and swapped batteries. Actually several sets of batteries as we tried to find enough that worked. Duly illuminated we struck off from the main path and found ourselves at the bottom of the water run off below Greenfield Reservoir. The only way was up, and then up beyond the dam onto the hillside towards the kind of place a path ought to be. Contouring round we dropped back down at the head of the res. All the dam rambling had taken a while and still dumped us on the wrong side of the intake. Scrabbling across a slippy escarpment in the dark wasn’t much fun with water of unknown depth but certainly low temperature on either side.
The path less taken but more bleedin’ obvious greeted us and took us to the bottom of Birchen Clough. The clough itself appeared as a gentle rise overlooked by the Raven Stones which were silhouetted in a shower of clichés. We got a good look at the clough. Too much water, too deep and too fast to go for a straight up the middle approach. This was after all a recce and we didn’t want to spoil the fun for a larger group outing. A modest start then, criss-crossing the gulley as it rose easily. At our early rest to check out the first obstacle Mr Tuck rightly observed that we had created the sport of extreme stepping-stones. Extreme stepping-stones is to gulley scrambling, what bouldering is to climbing. A cut down version of the real thing to be practised by those in need of a substitute. We confidently expect a BMC sub-committee to consider the ethics of stepping stoning and whether it is really the “done thing” giving as it might the “professional” stepping stoner an unfair advantage over amateur gentleman gulley scramblers. It might also spawn a whole range artificial aids (water wings?) and unseemly garments detrimental to the traditions of the sport (i.e. non-tweed).
Such musings powered us over the first of several narrowings in the flow and over the larger boulders on the cloughside. The gulley walls were gainfully employed as the flatter stones in the flow of the water proved extremely slippery. The first major waterfall was taken with due care and attention and our previous practices, developed on Oaken Clough, paid off. We emerged over the brow of the fall on the side of the Pool of Tranquility. In “The Land that Time Forgot” this would have been the bathing place of prehistoric nymphs. On this evening it would have been survivable only by a geordie hen party. We took coffee and a cheroot for the Doctor. The view up the clough looked fine, though the distances were foreshortened in the dark.
Circling the pool brought us to the next waterfall which posed the evening’s second biggest challenge (the first equal were Fingers’ excuse for not coming and Tuck’s battery management issues). Mr Tuck favoured a move to the right and headed across the flow. At the central point he was forced to assume a kneeling crawl below the main force. Steadily on unsteady ground he gained the gulley wall and a degree of security.
Meanwhile Dr Crowe trended left, working finger jams in the cracks of the side wall until the face of the fall was reached. The band of rocks and stones between the flow and the gulley wall arrowed towards a face above a couple of metres high. The wall on the left began to overhang and was covered in a thick layer of moss, a natural line for a green crack specialist. It was all looking a bit desperate but a traverse across the flow wasn’t really an option so it was a simple brutish mantel through spray and when the moss gave out a direct thrutch through the brim of the waterfall gave the traditional and inelegant conclusion to a fine night out.
Turning back to look down the clough we saw that it we couldn’t see anything – mist had sprung up in a ten minute interval to reduce to a few metres. That and a check on the time meant heading down. We took the path on the left hand side of the clough picking our way through mist and boulders, following trails of sawdust (left from a weekend fell race?). Took extreme stepping stoning to a new level – extreme stepping stoning in only a few metres of visibility – the opposite bank only vaguely outlined. Only a few more directional difficulties and then back on the big path back to the car park
Disorientation and dam rambling put the pub beyond reach and even the car park was devoid of intimate couples.
In truth, an evening of swing at the climbing wall was averted and more evidence provided for our grandchildren to truly marvel at the brutality of a recession which forced their forebears to seek entertainment in freezing waterfalls.
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