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Scottish Mountaineering Club Journal Volume 4 Number 3

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Excursions

The Tower Ridge Pinnacle, Ben Nevis

This pretty little boss of rock stands at the base of the most popular of the Ben Nevis climbs, and has been usually omitted by parties ascending the ridge. The only previous record of its having been climbed will be found in the Alpine Journal (vol. xvii., p. 521), when the Messrs Hopkinson went up by its short, and descended by its long side. It has a most imposing appearance, and were it only placed on the top, instead of the bottom of our heaven-kissing hill, the "Inaccessible," "Napes," et hoc genus omne, would have to take a back seat. When a party of four, consisting of such eminent climbers as Brown, Hinxman, Raeburn, and the writer (puzzle: find the luggage), found itself at the base of this little pinnacle on 3rd April 1896, the insatiable appetite of three of these mountain maniacs, bursting with the pent-up enthusiasm of a long winter in town, not only felt equal to the Tower ridge but insisted in demolishing as well what they irreverently christened "Douglas's Boulder." The "luggage" was dubious, but his scruples were brushed scornfully aside, and the pinnacle was tackled at its lowest point. The "luggage" observed that all the holds sloped the wrong way.

Having donned the rope - 160 feet of it - we were soon climbing up the steep sides of the pinnacle, which on its Allt a' Mhuillin side cannot be far short of 700 feet in height. The other side drops down to a col, separating it from the Tower ridge in a steep little gap of about sixty or seventy feet. We sent Brown on ahead. All went well and easily for a bit; but soon we had plenty of time to admire the view, for as we edged over to the right the holds became more imaginary, the rocks more precipitous, and the pace of the leader more erratic. Some finger-thawing was also indulged in about this time, the rocks being intensely cold and too difficult for gloves. A couple of hours quickly passed; then the caravan came to a dead stop, and our leader seemed to be stuck somewhere above us. Up we all came to see what he was about. We found him gazing at a lovely obstacle of the smooth-slab order - a thing that would have made a delightful slide, with something soft below to fall on. A yawning precipice, however, made a nasty landing-place.

[page 173]

"Up you go, you'll do it easily," says Hinxman, metaphorically patting the leader on the back. "I don't like it at all," is the response; "but I'll try." So he tries; and with much shoving, scraping, panting, and puffing, successfully manages this ticklish bit, and disappears from sight. "No more rope! are you right?" is sung out to him round the corner; and at once comes the answer: "Not a bit! don't pull! give me more rope, and look sharp!" Hinxman untied; but still the cry came for "more rope." So the "luggage" was detached, and deposited in what was called "a delightfully secure place." This, however, was the description of the man who had not to stand on it. In reality it resembled the geometrical entity, length without breadth. When nearly all the 160 feet of rope had run out, Hinxman and Raeburn tied on, and disappeared from view, leaving the comforting assurance behind them that the rope would be chucked down for the "luggage" immediately. Half-an-hour passed, and no rope. Even the joys of 'bacca began to pall, for the only response to an occasional shout was showers of hail and keen blasts of cutting wind. just as the "luggage" was considering whether it would be possible in his frozen condition to get down the way he had come up, some flying stones and a noise overhead preceded Raeburn's cherubic visage over the top of an overhanging rock. A rope was led down, and the "luggage" was pulled up. There had been some obstruction up above which prevented the rope from reaching the "luggage" in any other way.

There being no more difficulties to speak of, we walked to the summit, and enjoyed a halt there, and a new and original drink, of which Raeburn is the patentee. Unless you jump to the col, getting down requires some manipulation. We managed it by descending towards the west, and traversing backwards along a snowy ledge into the snow gully on the west. Down this - being too late for the ridge - we slid and floundered, and then made straight tracks for home.

We had been most of the day on the pinnacle; but when we heard that the party ahead of us had spent nine hours on the Tower ridge, we were glad at having given up that part of the expedition.

W. D.

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