Kilnshaw Chimney, Red Screes

The mountains are calling & I must go.

If you are of a nervous disposition enjoy the pics (there's two extras, flower quiz, answers Sunday) but don't read on -oh & there's some use of classical Anglo-Saxon....

Finally a dry day - not even a good day, simply a dry day.
With Prince getting new dancing shoes (tyres) in Kendal & the opening of the exhibition Mrs IttH's has organised this evening in Penrith I knew my window for feeding the soul was small - but I also knew it simply had to be taken. It's not often nowadays that I read a guidebook - but a quick peruse for easily accessible but properly mountain fun gave forth...Kilnshaw Chimney - a Grade2 *** scramble up a steep little gully on Red Screes, a plan made.
Up early - pooch worn out in the meadow, emails sent & away- the garage were pleasingly fast & I was parked at the Kirkstone Pass just after midday.

Like most of those who play in the outdoors I have a grab bag in the car - well a secure box with the basics needed for a good day out - I always make sure there's a dry pair of boots in there too;
Waterproofs - obviously
Warm Jacket - yep indeedy
First Aid Kit - daft not too
Rope - hmm, grade 2 - not really - back in the van.
Oh - helmet....hmmm...
...Now this is hard to explain to non climbers - but I like the freedom of soloing inside my ability - pushing at the edges, feelings amplified by consequence - ability limited by sensibility. But - this is a big mountain - not a roadside gritstone crag, its a gully that will be loose, its been wet...
Helmet in.

with a small but full bag I set off, water bottle tucked into the side pocket.

Everyone heads left on the path - I head right - the route will clearly be mine alone today. I freestyled it up to the obvious gap on the skyline, a quick drink, helmet on, camera somewhere accessible. Game on. The rocks had been pleasingly grippy - but as supected the chimney runs with a steady trickle of water. At its base its probably 10ft wide and 35degrees - but it soon narrows to 4 ft or so and gets pleasingly steeper. As soon as I'm inside the gully it becomes its own absorbing world - never difficult - but steep enough to keep walkers and sheep out - so rich in plant life and fun. Progress is damp, but I'm having a hoot.
After a 100m or so there's a little wall to surmount - a slip here would be horrendous - of course now its a waterfall. I can see the escape out right, but this will go.. . step up, bridge across the gap, ignore the fresh air under your heels, let you fingers search, feel... breathing slows, balance shifts, turn from the core, reach - aha, got it, one arm pulls one pushes , transfer weight from the hips and I'm up, grinning. Another 20m sees a repeat of this - but this time everything i can reach moves - there's too much loose rock to find the solid stuff - I lower down - try to the left - its little better - but a little is enough - again I'm up, that's it, it's done. I'm wet from the water & the excertion - but now the angle lessens and whilst I'm still in the chimney there's a sense the top is close. I pause & look down - the road a tiny line in the distance - I think I hear a shout...then I hear a noise every mountaineer knows. Instinct takes over, head down & in, back and rucksack turned skyward - press into the rock, put yourself inside the rock. It thwacks past - there's no ping, no metallic noise - that was something big. I hear it crash it's way down and down - instinct has clearly closed my eyes, couldn't be fear. Nothing follows.
No climber wants this - to be wiped out after the crux, the struggle won, a paltry way to be reminded of our place, this is not ffffing happening today . It's time to go. I move fast and upwards - I'm confused, I know there's no one climbing above me but is someone trying to down climb this, kicking everything loose as they go? Suddenly this easy bit isn't the place to be. I can see the skyline when I hear another shout, in the open of the broadening gully I simply hit the ground. I hear a hard whack, the whistling of air - then a thudding punch to my side, hard yet somehow, I think, I feel, not quite hard enough. Carefully I move, worried that maybe shock has lessened my senses - but opening my eyes (instinct people, instinct) I can see a rock has hit and shattered the hard plastic waterbottle on the outside of my sack. I'm pretty confident it's made of tougher stuff than my skull.
This is fffing ridiculous, move fffking move, pick yourself up, move move move- I'm mere metres from a tourist path - my legs push me on, another bend and the skyline opens up...
above me a group of young boys are just about to throw a brick sized rock down the gully...

I'm not pleased at the way I expressed myself - and I'm disappointed that I probably scared them more than they scared me. A wiser man would, could and should have kept control of his emotions and thus been able to explain the (potential) consequences of their actions. I simply made them leg it from the crazy man. By the time my shaking legs pushed me on to the path the adrenaline was fading & I simply didn't have the energy to go find them or their carers. I sat a long long while and thought about being sick.

Philosophy Friday
Wrong is wrong even if everyone is doing it. Right is right even if no one is doing it.