button to main menu  Gents Mag 1900 part 1 p.440

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Gentleman's Magazine 1900 part 1 p.440
Entering a ravine which has a most unpromising opening near the top of a slate quarry, we notice stupendous crags which augur hard work. Their lower stratas are however much broken, and the first emerald green basin of water is easily passed, but further up a giant mass overhangs the ghyll. After carefully surveying both sides, a tiny jut is tried and - found wanting. The adventurer loses hold on the rock and is immediately immersed in about ten feet of water. The other bank is examined more carefully and a long traverse discovered. Along this we happily sidle, making holds for hands where possible. At a most awkward point the traverse comes to an end, and the way back has to be crawled at some risk.
The most dangerous "gully" incident was met when climbing by a waterfall. The rock (ironstone) was steep, but rotten. We directed our climb towards a block apparently about five feet in diameter. Perhaps this was finely poised on a bed of yielding sand or clay, for as soon as we got weight upon it over it toppled, narrowly missing crushing us against the wall. The boulder fell into the deep water, and of course we fell too. A wetting was a lucky finish to this adventure.
I well remember descending a very pretty ghyll - or was it the splendid conditions which made it so? It was a lovely morning, and we had climbed High Street during the hours of dusk in order to see the sun rise. A long bank of purple haze had lain along the horizon, but the sun rapidly rose above this and flooded hill and valley, mountain and lake, in a very blaze of glory. At 5.30 we made a move towards Mardale, where we hoped to get some breakfast. Down the steep mountain-shoulder, where the path was a dodge among the boulders, we made rapid progress to Blea Water, the waters of which were rippling in a slight breeze. At the foot of the tarn we sat for a while on the grey lichened slabs, enjoying the bright warm morning sunshine. Then down the bracken-covered slope again to a small waterfall most picturesquely situated. The sun shone directly into its deep rocky basin, and every surge of the tumbling water was telegraphed to the eye in flash and glitter. Some mountain-ash trees clung round the steep rock, their long roots, white and green, hanging dripping into the clear pool below. Seen under these indescribable circumstances the sight was a very memorable one. It was only the pangs of hunger that forced us to move on.
One of the best expeditions for one who has a real liking for the smaller beauties of water and rock scenery is Sacgill (sic). This is at the head of Longsleddale, a long narrow valley of the usual lakeland
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