Ethics
The relative fragility of Northumberland’s sandstone crags makes the issues of ethics and style particularly important. Compared with the rest of the UK, Northumberland remains a bastion of traditional climbing. How did this happen and why should we protect it?
Good Practice
- Clean your shoes before you climb. Sand and mud on the soles of shoes accelerate wear and polishes the holds.
- Do not climb on damp or wet sandstone. Sandstone when wet is substantially weaker, liable to breaking and erodes much more quickly.
- Where possible clean off any chalk and tick marks. Brush problems gently. Whacking with a rag works well to remove chalk or tick marks and can be gentler than brushing.
- Bouldering is a very intense activity that can focus erosion on a small number of rocks. Avoid running laps on problems. If you cannot do a problem in good style and quickly, then leave it until you are stronger.
- Avoid top/bottom-roping and shunting on sandstone crags. They are practices that focus erosion on the crux of climbs. If you must top-rope, avoid running laps on the same climb. Use a static rope for the anchor with an edge protector and ensure it is set so the active rope is not running over the edge.
- Avoid placing protection that will damage the rock. Pegs and bolts have no place in our crags. Sandstone flakes are delicate and easily broken by cams. The end result can be broken rock not to mention broken bones.
- It is a rare occurrence, but graffiti does still appear from time to time, this and chipping new, or enlarging existing holds should be challenged if seen.
- Although stating the obvious, dry-tooling on sandstone is potentially disastrous and is a complete No-No.
- If it is necessary to belay to a tree, tie the belay rope round the tree as low as possible to minimise leverage.
- Do not camp, bivouac, light fires, barbecues or stoves near or at the Crags in Northumberland.
- If you have a dog(s) at the crag ensure it is under control. And note that not everyone loves a dog.
Ethics and Style
This article was originally written by Steve Blake and has been edited for brevity, the full version is available here.
Mountaineers and rock climbers have long been prone to gaze at their navels and think deeply about their activities, this inevitably leads to discussion and debate about how we do what we do, as well as why we do what we do.
Much of this debate was crystallised in 1911 when Paul Pruess, a leading developer in the Eastern Alps, wrote an essay about the use of artificial aids on Alpine routes. His position was that you should be able to reverse what you climb; he essentially soloed his routes and in the majority of cases down-climbed them. Before his death he climbed 1200 routes, 300 of which were solo and 150 first ascents. This was the start of a debate on ethics and style (known as the ‘Maurhakenstriet’ – piton dispute) that posited that the use of pitons for protection or aid and abseiling were only acceptable in extreme circumstances to avoid a catastrophe. He accepted that he was something of a lone voice in these views as by then pegs and various rope techniques were in common use. Whilst an exemplar in the practice of minimalist climbing, he wasn’t a zealot and did place a number of pitons.
Amongst all of Preuss’s climbs the East Face of the Campanile de Basso stands out as a fine example of the man’s ability. Climbed on sight, solo and ropeless. In its modern state, this 300m route is still considered a grade V.
In the UK a classic manifestation of these issues took place in 1936 when some visiting German climbers, Teufel and Sedlmayer, placed two pegs to force a line on Tryfan, the infamous ‘Munich Climb’ (nowadays graded HVS 5a). British indignation about the importing of ‘steeplejack’ techniques was such, and probably national pride pricked, that the then President of the Alpine Club, Lord Strutt, was made to utter; ‘Any man who would place a peg on British rock would shoot a fox’! While the metaphor isn’t as clear now as it was then, the point he was making, in a rather stuffy way, was that it just wasn’t fair! It also ignored the reality that continental climbers, particularly those in the Eastern Alps, were climbing much more difficult routes than their British counterparts. That said, the British position from early days through to the Brown/Whillans era was sympathetic to the adventurous approach. Indeed Brown had a self -imposed limit of no more than two pegs per pitch, recognising that some climbs were best left for following generations.
Such debates have continued ever since. These early discussions focussed, like Preuss’s, on not devaluing the challenge and adventure offered, by the climb; the development of the human spirit and experience, giving the mountain or route a chance to win the game, maintaining the uncertainty and relying on the basic skill of the climber. At this stage there was little debate about the impact we were having on the mountains and rocks we play in and on. These underlying issues of risk and uncertainty balanced against skill, technique and ability remain central to how we conduct and consider our activities and are the foundation of the ‘ethics’ that underpin our activity. The debate continued.
In 1971 Reinhold Messner wrote a seminal article that was published in Mountain magazine, ‘The Murder of The Impossible’. This lamented the overuse, in particular, of bolts in climbing and the concomitant reduction of risk, skill and commitment that advances in equipment could bring. Fundamentally, it continued the argument that the mountains and rocks should be a place of adventure.
In more recent years our impact on the mountains and crags has become increasingly obvious. We see and live with the consequences of our activities: erosion, overcrowding, litter and worse, and these issues have become part of the debate.
How does this discussion, lasting over a century, impact on our corner of the country?
All of these debates influenced our predecessors. The ‘ethical’ view that adventure is an imperative has always has always had a powerful influence here. This in turn has had a big impact on the ‘styles’ of climbing that evolved and were favoured. Herein lies the origin of the boldness that is typical on many of Northumberland’s climbs. With each generation standing on the shoulders of its predecessors, standards rise and so did the level of skill and boldness required to tackle the climbs.
While some aid routes were established at the Wanneys and Crag Lough, pegs and bolts never became commonplace on our sandstone crags (although there are probably be more old aid bolts around than you realise, dating back to the fifties - these are aberrations). Pre-practising routes (top-roping) was frowned upon, and in the mid 70s and 80s it became increasingly apparent that on our small crags, keeping the adventure element high meant upping the apparent risk, and increasingly testing your skills and head.
In Northumberland this approach reached its apogee in the late 70 and 80s when some very hard routes on sandstone were done ground-up, with, on occasion, some substantial ground falls routinely taken. While many were cleaned on abseil, although some weren’t, very few were top-roped prior to their first ascent.
In 1974 Robin Smith, the legendary Scottish climber, presented a paper at the BMC National Mountaineering Conference which incorporated the environmental issues in a set of climbing ethics and which I thought did a great job of encapsulating all that had gone before as well as including the environment.
These were:
- We climb the mountains (and rocks)
- Test your skill
- Test your nerve
- Love the mountains (and rocks)
I would argue that in Northumberland’s case it is appropriate, if not essential, that we move the last, (Love the mountains and rocks), to the top of the list. If we do indeed love the rocks then it is incumbent on us to look after them. This is particularly relevant on our fragile sandstone crags, where some styles of climbing accelerate erosion. Top-roping, shunting and running endless bouldering laps or attempts can seriously damage vulnerable climbs. This doesn’t apply to all routes and problems, and indeed there are both routes and problems that are incredibly durable, but bizarrely the most vulnerable bits of rock and crags seem to attract far too much attention.
A small cadre of individuals do make a concerted effort to maintain the rock. This ‘stabilisation’ does work and in many instances has stopped the erosion in its tracks. But it remains secondary to being kind to the rock in the first place.
It is a happy coincidence that the County’s ‘ethics’, in encouraging an adventurous approach have also protected the rock. While it may not seem so when you walk past ‘Vienna’ or ‘Child’s Play’ at Bowden, things could be a lot worse!
In the last decade the increasing use of pads and development of indoor training facilities has seen some very hard routes being tackled as high/skyballs.
This is a bold approach well suited to the County, and tests the skill and nerve of those involved - and the nerve of those watching! Dropping onto a stack of pads, in some instances from above 10 metres, is not without significant risk. Moreover, some very hard climbing has been done ‘ground-up’ with no pre-inspection, demonstrating just what is possible for those with the right skill and judgement. Given the size of the shoulders being stood on, this is no mean achievement.
It would be naïve to think that pre-inspection, or top-roping very difficult climbs in the County doesn’t take place. It does, but it is typically quite limited in its scope and is the exception rather than the rule. What does all of this mean for the majority tackling more modest climbs? In practise, if set up correctly, occasional top-roping isn’t a cardinal sin, but please be aware of the potential for damage. This is a real world practical application of the philosophy. Regardless, I’m certain that you develop much more ‘climbing judgement’, ‘real world’ skill and accumulate meaningful experience, leading a climb, ground-up, rather than top-roping a line that’s several grades harder.
Regarding route cleaning, it is acceptable to do this on the harder routes in the County as they get done relatively rarely and accumulate lichen and scrittle. However, cleaning may be necessary even on some of the easier, less frequented routes on Whin Sill. (Note that quartz dolerite is very hard and not easily damaged.) Nonetheless, given the potentially fragile environment, climbers should try to keep ‘gardening’ to the minimum required to climb the route – it’s not always necessary to rip out every piece of vegetation!
There’s a rich history of boldness in Northumberland that has seen generations of climbers brought up on our tiny crags adventuring successfully all over the world. I’d argue that the experience and judgement to be gained here is a substantial reward for the effort and risks. This history and background isn’t apparent to many climbers, and the climbing wall sausage machine can churn out hundreds of technically capable climbers who know little about ethics, history or style, what is right and wrong. Who would have thought anyone could consider Kyloe Out of the Woods a Dry Tooling venue? But some folks did…
Our established ethics have served the County and its climbers well and they should be cherished. To summarise:
WHENEVER WE VISIT ONE OF OUR LOCAL SANDSTONE CRAGS WE HAVE AN IMPACT. IT IS ALL OF OUR RESPONSIBILITY TO DEMONSTRATE AND PROMOTE BEST PRACTICE IN NORTHUMBERLAND.