Notes On Kilnsey Crag
by D. M. Moorhouse
During the last ten years climbing on the limestone crags of Yorkshire and Derbyshire has advanced by leaps and bounds, mainly as a result of the acceptance of the piton as a bona fide means of progress. No longer is it necessary to hide one’s pegs under an anorak.
The best of the limestone crags offer climbing of an almost Dolomitic standard and Kilnsey Crag is by far the most famous of these. Its main overhang, impressive from the road and even more so to anyone suspended from its roof, fell to the onslaught of R. Moseley in 1957. Time has not lessened its difficulties and it is still regarded as one of the most difficult artificial routes in the country. These difficulties are such that, unless one is blessed with supreme powers of speed, the likelihood of a forced bivouac at the top of the first pitch is inevitable. The ‘hard’ man, the insane and those practising for future Alpine routes, may well choose to sit it out on a two foot six inch ledge; others will prefer to resort to trickery, leave their kit and make a graceful abseil to the security of the Local, whence they can resume their attack on the following day, using Prusiks and fixed ropes.
From the top of the first pitch one must climb 10 feet before beginning to traverse 60 feet or more under the start of the main overhang, some 120 to 130 feet above the ground. A series of rotten wedges oppose the force of gravity and have so far made progress possible, though anyone suspended from them is well or: the way to a thorough understanding of “cowards die many times before their deaths”. This feeling is continuous: the leader, having crossed this hazardous pitch, must rig up a form of trapeze-like swing, suspend it from a few rusty old pegs and then, from this doubtful perch, take in rope as his second crosses the pitch of rotting wedges. Then comes the moment for the change-over: a moment during which the possibility of acrobatics becoming aerobatics is all too obvious. This feat accomplished, the leader must push on towards the lip of the overhang where there should be three bolts in place. His imagination runs awry and all the terrors of artificial climbing fill his mind: will the bolts be there’? Has time loosened them? Will the rope jam? The rope will start to drag in a manner likely to pluck climber and the last four pegs from their anything but secure holds.
Once over the lip of the overhang the leader can again look forward to another lease of life, for the angle soon relents and, after a bit of loose rock, he can at last stahd belayed on Terra Firma and bring his second man to join him at the top. Relief will flood his being and he can now make tracks down to the Local to replace the vast amount of liquid lost during the ascent.