Skip to content
Irish Mountaineering Club IMC, Cumann Sléibhteoireachta na hÉireann
  • Facebook
  • Instagram
Join Now
Book the Hut
Members Login
  • About
    • Introduction
    • Contact Us
    • Documents
      • Constitution
      • Privacy Policy
    • Expeditions
    • Kindred Clubs, Handy Hostels
    • Library
    • People
  • Join
    • Introduction
    • New Membership
  • Blog
    • Article
    • Obituary
    • Review
    • Route Info
    • Training
    • Trip Report: International
    • Trip Report: Ireland
    • Other: Bottom of Home Page
  • Events
    • Introduction
    • Calendar
  • Hut
  • Publications
    • Introduction
    • Books
    • Newsletters
      • 2010-now
      • 2000-2009
      • 1990-1999
      • 1980-1989
      • 1970-1979
      • 1960-1969
      • 1950-1959
    • IMC Archive
    • Videos
  • Training
    • Overview
    • Introduction to Trad climbing Programme
Irish Mountaineering Club IMC, Cumann Sléibhteoireachta na hÉireann
  • Log In
  • Join the IMC
  • About
    • Introduction
    • Kindred Clubs, Handy Hostels
    • Library
  • Blog
    • Article
    • Obituary
    • Review
    • Training
    • Important Information
  • Events
    • Introduction
    • Calendar
  • Hut
  • Publications
    • Books
    • Newsletters
      • Newsletters 2010-2018
      • Newsletters 2000-2009
      • Newsletters 1990-1999
      • Newsletters 1980-1989
      • Newsletters 1970-1979
      • Newsletters 1960-1969
      • Newsletters 1950-1959
    • IMC Archive
    • Videos
  • Training
    • Overview
    • Introduction to Trad Climbing Programme 2026
Join Now
Book the Hut
Log in
  • Why’s Dat Climb Called Dis?

    (by Steve Young, from IMC Newsletter Summer 2011)
    First ascents of Wicklow routes in the 1970s, and how they got their names.


    With the availability of the Internet and such web sites as Climbing.ie and the IMC web page, I (too) regularly keep track of activities. Unfortunately the use of usernames hides the originators of many of the forum comments and being “out of the scene” it is sometimes difficult to follow the threads. One recent discussion involved Drifter’s Escape and this leads well into the following.

    Dalkey Grades

    I guess this is one subject that at one time I thought I understood. As time passes, the difficulty of grading routes becomes clouded. Soon after my arrival in Ireland and the ascent of my first new route in the Quarry, Joss cornered me regarding the possibility of editing a guide book to update the O’Flynn edition that was now some 7 years out of date. The only part of the process for publication that caused any concern to me was the need to list route lengths in metres. I wanted feet, it made the routes seem bigger! Imperial feet prevailed and after the guide’s publication (1974), the grading storm started. New route additions in the Quarry in the mid-seventies went exponential and once again Joss was looking for an editor; there were no takers. Hoping to make more sense of the grading I issued a questionnaire to all the protagonists of the day along with a number of the Quarry regulars. All routes were listed along with their grades and columns for pitch grades and overall grade. I had hoped to come up with an “average” grade. Response to the questionnaire was poor but the results were used along with my own experiences of leading all routes below 5b in the hope of finding some form of agreement. I had hoped for what one person “on-line” described as “global consensus”. But no, the disagreement continues to this day. New to this guide and I believe new to Ireland at the time, I introduced the “numerical” system for technical difficulty that I had been brought up with in Cornwall after its introduction in the 1968 guide to Bosigran by Peter Biven. Annual visits to Cornwall were used to check my technical grading.

    Route grades have to change with time; they can not remain constant. The rock changes, the equipment improves, techniques are developed, people’s needs are different ,etc. An interesting fact: Dónal and I climbed together, we did the same routes, but Dónal wore out his boots every year; mine lasted two. The reason being Dónal needed twice as many foot holds as me! This must affect the grade. Stephen McMullan in the Drifter’s Escape debate listed his favourite solo routes. It’s interesting that many of these were old IMC routes, done in big boots, no chalk and no protection, but still carry the original grades! These first ascents were in fact “solos”. What I ask is will the grades change once the Gecko boots and Gecko chalk are available? The solution to guide book grades is to remove them, just describe the line!

    Luggala

    Sweet Erica

    This was my first recorded new route in Ireland and named by Jimmy Leonard, that worldly scholar, after the preponderance of heather (Latin name) that streaked the route. Boy was he a mine of knowledge, anything from rockets to enhanced tomato soup. Being the only new route climbed at Luggala in that lovely month of November and having Dave Fawcett (supposedly Ron’s brother) as its only claim to fame, it was never destined to be a star route! So you may ask, “why climb such an ugly route?” I guess the original Perrott guide book was hard to follow, it was misty and wet, the day was running out fast and the view out from the end of the Terrace across the Main Face was too horrific to contemplate. After all, we had to do something to earn a pint!

    Sun Chaser

    An obvious name for another late-in-the-day route, requiring speed to avoid a walk up the hill in the dark.

    Bearcats

    Named by Joe Mulhall after the popular RTE TV programme of the time. I remember suffering from a wild sore throat that I was subduing with Strepsils. I did not read the instructions and scoffed down the tablets like candy. When I got up to climb, I swayed, the horizon rolled and the rock pulsated in and out! Somehow I got up this first pitch and then led the continuation to the top. Big boots in March were a must.


    Bearcats: Doug Milnes on second ascent

    Dance of the Tumblers

    As it has been said, the route did not go without fighting back. The name came from the piece of music by Rimsky Korsakoff. I had the name in mind for a route in Cornwall at Carn Barra that I had tried and failed on a number of times. Later I was to find out it was climbed around the same time as Dance and named Ra. Now to right some history. The route was originally written up in the IMC Newsletter in October 1972 with the first ascentionists listed as Richardson, Young, Harris and Mulhall. Pat Redmond’s 1973 guide gave the same list. Ken Higgs’s guide in 1982 had us listed as Young, Mulhall, Richardson and Harris. This was perpetuated in the 1993 and 2009 guides. Here is what happened – the story, written for the IMC Journal but never published.

    “It’s a peach of a line up the side of Great Gully”, Joe spouted out between sups of Guinness, “tried it with Alan Douglas, he fell off.”

    So one cold snowy Sunday in November 1971 Jim and I wandered over to Luggala to look up at Joe’s peach. “He must be mad”, I scoffed at Jim, “it’s all bloody overhangs.”

    A while later I was belayed agog as Joe led off up the ramp towards the menacing overhangs. Three hours later he was crouched like a frightened pigeon on a sloping triangular ledge surrounded by roofs. “Bring up my ciggies” is the only encouragement I get; are they to calm his nerves or does he expect this to be a long day?

    The gentle ramp turned into a steep slab with overhangs pushing me out towards the gully, the green slab angled up to give a barrel-like formation. Stepping around the corner onto holds that John Gibson (our trusty photographer) swore were there, or had he got something against me after that Maestri-like experience on Lugnaquillia during the winter? Now a short reach up to Joe and I took up a yoga position hanging from the peg below the triangular ledge. “Give me a ciggy”, he gasped. Like Arthur I tugged at my Chouinard Excalibur and like Arthur it came out of the anvil. I was not to be king and Joe was not to get his ciggy. I shot out on an arc and rapidly grabbed at the mass of rope rapidly moving in space. Joe had a shoulder belay and with only one hand on the rope, I did the braking with his neck as the bollard! He then lowered me to the ground some 10 feet out from the foot of the cliff; quite some peach. A shaken and rope-burned Joe abseiled from his lonely perch as the sun gave way to the cool of evening. We never did see John’s photos, he must have a mine of climbing history pictures.

    Months later we were back for my pitch, a quick variation aid route (never written up) led to the triangular belay ledge. Now with Joe once again ensconced on his perch, I led off right. The drop below my feet seemed so steep, there was nothing; my hands pressed flat against the rock, I edged along the tip of balance at the point where all time seemed to stop. Fingers enveloped a jug, a pull at the green friction at my feet pushed be back into balance. A peg runner and on, tiny foot holds led across towards a crack. Far below on the brooding lake, ripples lapped the shore; what peace to be had there, alas no Lady of the Lake.

    A long step, and with good friction I stood on nothing to reach a sharp edge, a layback and then with a shuffle, I reached a “green and pleasant ledge”.

    With a bong belay in place, Joe came hurtling across like a fire engine with its bell ringing – oops, I forgot, the route’s third tumble! We abseiled off, enough fun for the nerves!

    After many abortive attempts to reach our previous high point from above including the famous Dave Walsh anorak-eating epic (the dangers of loose stuff and figure of 8 devices), I found myself once again at the “green and pleasant ledge”. This time in the company of an International team. Joe the local, fresh from Healy’s, Bob Richardson the American, laden with the latest Hexcentrics, and two “Brits”, Mike “Bomber” Harris – he had more “flying hours” in his Whillans than most Air Corps pilots – and finally myself. The acceptance of new members on this route led to some controversy, not unlike rumours surrounding the original ascent of Spearhead back in the ‘60’s. Over a pint or two, Joe invited Bob to join us on the completion of the route and somehow Bomber tagged along. I did not agree with this arrangement and through spite, I offered Bob the lead much to Joe’s annoyance. Bob (wearing shorts! – a new sight on Irish rock) led in superb style, across the slab to place a hexcentric, a brief layback to more protection placed. At regular intervals more hexcentrics were expended in an orderly and systematic manner; each move was thoughtful, deliberate and useful, a show of perfect control in this vertical environment. Traverse out left to the crux position, a no. 10 placed high, a swing over the lip, up the slab to disappear into the heart of the sun. I followed, cursed for not letting Joe lead, and finally at the belay, I crawled up the grass and then crouched, very quiet and thoroughly subdued. Harris followed in a cloud of Gauloises smoke, reminiscent of the Paris Metro, and seduced the pitch with a combination of bad language and fear but no “air time”. Joe finished in fine form and complimented Bob on his inspirational lead. Now relaxing on the ledge, I gazed down at the dark waters glistening far below still looking for signs of the Lady of the Lake.

    The first complete ascent with aid elimination was by Dave Richardson in 1973.


    Dance of the Tumblers: Joe Mulhall on first ascent of first pitch

    The Real Thing

    A pretty obvious line leading to some most improbable situations where the line of the route follows the ground below to give a serious position apparently close to the ground! A classic large glass bottle of coke was trussed up like a chicken and hauled up the route as we went. The Real Thing seemed an apt name.


    The Real Thing: the Coke haul

    Psycho

    The only new route I climbed with Pat “I’m the leader of the gang” Redmond. The line at the time appeared from below to be acceptable but the vegetation encountered was like a journey to the Lost World until the final mossy slab was reached. One poor peg for protection mid-way across the slab gave me the confidence to proceed; its difficulties in its mossy form were confirmed by Pat’s lunge for the peg. His comment was “you must have been ‘Psycho’ to lead that”! The 2009 guide shows the direct finish and not the slab pitch.

    Golden Oldies

    A tortuous explanation for this name. Competition was beginning to appear in Irish climbing. There was the Trinity Club, the UCD club, the Rapparees, Spillikin, the IMC and various non-connected masters and new routing and development was starting to boom.

    We descended from Luggala over the boulders late on a Sunday evening to see Higgs and Co. on a new route. “No way will they get up that today, we’ll grab it early next weekend.” It rained, two weeks later we were back. Up at dawn and on the wet rocks at Luggala before the UCD hut was awake. With much squirming in the mud we completed the route. The young’uns appeared, we were ahead; obviously age and experience still ruled! Ken calls out, “how are you finding it?” We reckoned 4c when we climbed it; was hard to be objective as it was dark. So Aqualung had been climbed; at least we did the second ascent! We knew the race was over, we could now just climb for recreation, the competition was too great. The traverse out left at about severe led to a fine ledge and tree belay. As I abseiled, the grass below my feet started to peel away to reveal clean white granite. With a little help the grass rolled away like a carpet to expose a dream slab and cracks. This was promptly climbed, we felt rejuvenated, Golden Oldies – Side One was born. Seán Windrim and Anthony Latham passed by; "where the f— did that appear from?". The 1993 Wicklow guide indicates that nature has reclaimed the rock. The 2009 guide describes it “as an expedition for the foolhardy”. Confusion in the guides as to the dates of these ascents; the 1982 guide is correct. No doubt in our environmentally-challenged climbing kingdom nobody will enjoy the pleasure that Joe and I sampled that day.

    Decrepitation

    I was beginning to feel pretty decrepit watching the “young’uns” at work; the name blended well with its neighbour and the age thing seemed to be associated with other routes for some reason, e.g. Geriatrix at the Rathdrum railway quarry, now crushed and mixed with concrete into someone’s home! It has to be added to my “Memorable Routes of Destruction”, but that’s another story. Little did I know how decrepit you could really get and yet, still climb! I am currently working on a mathematical model for U.S. route grade modification based on “one’s physical condition”.

    Volunteers

    Ken Higgs considered me to be a “volunteer” that day; I think I was “press-ganged”. This was a masterpiece of hard steep on-sight leading.

    Time Passages

    With Ken again, but I have no recollection of this route, maybe it should be renamed Alzheimer’s!

    Hyrax

    More Latin; I certainly never saw a rabbit, only a Mad Hatter and a March Hare! Massive gardening was required; we spent hours trying to decapitate a holly tree, which I see from the 2009 guide is still alive and well. Its shattered remains were used as a tied-off runner!

    Offspring

    Ken gave it the name; my wife was expecting, so perhaps it was for the expected “Offspring”.

    Pentax

    My new camera accompanied us on our first outing onto the Main Face. I soon found a bulky SLR was more bother than it was worth. Fewer photos in the future.

    Pisces

    With my new trusty all-metal, state-of-the-art peg hammer I set off on the first pitch of what was to be a new “rambling route” somewhere up, across and around the Main Face. Somewhere en-route while trying to put in a peg, my hammer shaft broke; back to the drawing board, that is if we survive the Main Face. Across under the main overhang to the belay for the last pitch of Spearhead. The previous week, an ROV, the Pisces, had been trapped off the coast of Cork but was luckily attached to the surface by a sturdy lifeline manned by a capable crew. Dusk was fast approaching as Dónal – that was well planned – set off around the Spearhead crux cursing for a sturdy lifeline to the top and disappeared out of contact. After what seemed an eternity, it was now dark, the rope was taken in, I set up a back belay; I did not relish a slip, swing and whoosh out over The Gannets. On reaching Dónal, he pointed out his insecure belay. The descent in the dark down South Gully included a crawl through at least one dead sheep. We passed through Roundwood after closing time, Pisces seemed an apt name.


    Pisces: First ascent, Steve approaching Spearhead last pitch

    Friends Laughing Alphabetically

    First attempted with Dónal in 1973 but turned back by loose rock. While being watched by three friends (A, B & C) from Arklow a few years later I tried to clean the route of vegetables and loose rock; incessant laughter cheered up the gloomy locale. With a handful of borrowed “friends” the route was taken.

    Glendalough

    Georgia

    Some tune I kept on whistling, to Dónal’s annoyance.

    The Nest

    Dónal and I spent hours hanging from the tree below the overlap, trying to free-climb through a pile of loose blocks. Eventually aid was used to beat it into submission. Jim Leonard had observed us in the tree on his way up to the cliff in the morning. On his return in the evening we were still there. The following morning, we were again up in the tree, ready to finish the route; Jim calls out “Are you two nesting?”

    Cornellow

    After a Cornish climbing locale.

    Solitaire

    It could have been after seeing Cathy’s giant diamond ring or the fact that I started the route being belayed by an “en-plastered” Dónal, still cast up after his flight off “Jackie”. Des Doyle came along in time to second the route. The initial finger crack caught my imagination after seeing photos of Yosemite’s “Cookie Wall” and all the fine finger lines. Just dreaming!


    Solitaire: First ascent

    Frigg

    Just “friggin” about as I watched Seán Windrim deal with his new and un-controllable double rope, designed to slow him down!


    Glendalough Acorn Buttress: Seán Windrim and his spaghetti

    Provo

    A letter to the MCI forum in 2005 indicated concern as to the political correctness of this name. So what was special about August 1974 – well children, if you are sitting comfortably I will begin … I lived in Avoca in Co.Wicklow, worked at the Avoca Mines, climbed on Bell Rock, bouldered on the Mottee Stone at Cronebane and listened to the RTE news on “six of the 19 prisoners that escaped from Portlaoise prison” were seen in the Tinahely area and heading deep into the Wicklow Mountains. An army helicopter gave chase but ran out of fuel. Escape by sea along the Wicklow-Wexford coast was prevented by the eagle-eyed sailors of the Deirdre and the army searched the Avoca area. This was Friday August 23, 1974. On the Sunday, I headed to Glendalough and climbed the oh-so-obvious line above what we called base camp with Dónal Windrim. So as not to forget the event I called it “Provo”. Remember, “lest we forget”! As a Brit, I’m proud of the name.


    Provo: Bob Richardson on second ascent

    Eden Wall

    I guess the name is pretty obvious; the interesting facet was that it was led by a child prodigy, Terry O Neill!

    Rock Music

    Seem to remember we carried a cassette recorder for “music while we climbed”.

    Caliph

    Named after my faithful dachshund walking companion, who emigrated with me and helped suss out new rock in the Canadian Shield.

    Xanthos

    The call of the wild took Tom Wolfe and myself high up into the Upper Cliffs to a prominent yellow groove, hence the Latin name. A worthwhile expedition.

  • Why’s Dis Climb Called Dat?

    (by Steve Young, from IMC Newsletter Autumn 2010)
    Steve tells us about his arrival in Ireland, and explains some of his Dalkey route names.


    Hey Mister Young, if you’re out there in Canada send us more photos and stories from the temple – Luggala. Your last dispatch was great, seeing you and the other hard chaws from the 70’s, hearing the routes you put up and how they got their names. And hey, I’d appeal to any of your cronies to do the same. We know you’re out there. And not just stuff on Luggala. Glendo – The Quarry – Donegal – Fair Head – anywhere. Come on, this is great history, we love to see and hear it. I know others feel the same.

    After calls from John Duignan and Barry Watts to put something down on paper for the IMC Newsletter how could one say no to such a “forum call” from Gerry Galligan on April 13, 2010.

    New Routing

    Somehow the thrill of seeking out new places and lines to climb has a far greater appeal to me than doing the existing routes or climbing harder and harder problems. Perhaps it was some latent explorer gene that was bursting to get out. Having previously climbed on the extensively developed granite of S.W. England, the opportunities there for new discoveries and lines were extremely limited; hopefully Ireland would be different. The excitement of the new route challenge is there; one must climb within your capability, both up and down. You never know what is ahead but hopefully you can remember how to reverse the moves if the impossible is reached.

    The Gear

    My initial rack in Ireland consisted of a Troll belt, through which you threaded the rope and secured it around your waist with a bowline and keeper knot. Protection consisted of a number of tape and rope slings for spikes and flakes, 3 Peck crackers (1/4”, 1/2”, 1”), 1 wired 3/16” Peck cracker, 3 Clog hexes and a 1/8” brass Clog on impossibly stiff wire, a small versatile Troll wedge and the one and only saviour, the MOAC wedge on tape. A ton of steely crabs and one Pierre Allain alloy crab completed the equipment. This crab had the dubious distinction of going “furry” after a day on the sea cliffs! Depending on location, a wide selection of chrome-moly pegs and hammer were carried and even a bolt, hanger and drill! After the arrival (1973) of our own walking climbing shop in the form of Bob Richardson I expanded the protection to a set of 10 Choui Hexcentrics and a wallet full of alloy crabs. The steely’s were gratefully accepted by others. The faithful blue Compton lid topped me off and a pair of Terray Saussois big wall boots or a pair of EB Super Grattons had me shod. How could I forget the infamous 8 that produced copious amounts of brass filings when abseiling on a gritty cleaning rope!

    In the Beginning

    On my arrival at Rosslare early one misty Wednesday morning in Autumn 1971, the climbing potential was soon realised. A stop by a grotto outside Wexford town, a run across the dewy grass and I was up a nice cracked slab. My old A40 Somerset had made it this far, I travelled light; my clothes, tools to fix the car, climbing gear, my mineral processing notes from University and a photocopy of pages from “Where to Climb in the British Isles” by Edward Pyatt that related to Éire. There was no mention of these rocks!

    Thursday evening after work at Avoca Mines, I explored Bell Rock for its climbing potential, again no mention in Pyatt. I believe modern activity has developed this interesting rock!

    The next evening I was up on Mottee Stone Hill, a-bouldering without a beanie and even following Ireland’s early via ferrata.


    Steve Young in 1973, on the Mottee Stone

    Now, it was the weekend; with no GPS, mobile phone or Climbing.ie forum or route database I set out to find the brief but intriguingly described Glendalough, Luggala and Dalkey climbing potential. The magic mist of an early Irish morning (I had not found Guinness yet) accompanied me across the wonderful road from Rathdrum to Laragh and onto the all but deserted car park by the lake at Glendalough. By the time I had eaten my “sarnies” and cheese, washed down with Tizer, explored the old mining buildings, examined the roll crusher, I headed up the scree towards the musical “clank” of gear. High on the dark granite to the right of the main buttress, two climbers battled with gravity. A call up to them was almost unintelligibly answered by “F-O”. Boy! the natives weren’t friendly. I headed off back down the scree past huge wild-looking goats. (I was later to learn it was Christy Rice and Doug Milnes on the first ascent of Rock Island Line). The initial reaction was, lots of nice-looking routes, obviously cleaned lines, little scope for my exploratory side, keep away from the natives.

    Next it was on through Annamoe, past the church high on the hill at Derralossary, where President Erskine Childers was to be buried a few years later, past Roundwood and up the Sally Gap road to the gates above Loch Tay. Wow! That’s a crag. Little did I realise what a hell of a walk back I was to have as I skipped down the sheep-shit-strewn road to the lower gate and off down to the river, its stepping stones and access to the huge boulder field below Luggala. The crag offered a somewhat appealing sight but somehow there was something not right; were they slabs, what with all the vegetation, were there cracks, why did it look so “unvisited”? Lots to be done but I was soon to learn from “pub tales” that it was an ominous place and best to stay away from its lichenous garb! Didn’t meet any unfriendly natives!

    It was Sunday; again I woke early and headed north in search of Dalkey, a quarry that appeared to be in the middle of a residential area. I parked at the top car park, walked across to the tower and view the scene below and over Dublin and the bay. Climbers punctuated the broken walls and gorsy ledges. I zipped down the steps and around to an area known as the East Valley. Here, three swearing climbers fought over who was to first tackle the white lift of granite; it was Diphthong. This trio was my greatest find to date, Jimmy Leonard, Joe Mulhall and Paddy Lyons. The end of the rope was handed to me; their argument was over, my trial began! Next it was Triptych; arrangements were made for Thursday night at the Teachers Club and my introduction to Guinness by Paddy. There was obvious potential within the quarry, blank unclimbed areas of rock, ivy-covered walls, vegetated cracks and friendly climbers! I acquired my “Climber’s Guide to Dalkey Quarry” (the 1964 O’Flynn edition) at this first IMC meeting.


    Diphthong, autumn 1971

    And now for the names

    Cathy Crackers: this route started my quarry gardening. I was soon to become “the mad English gardener”, a name that I soon re-acquired over here in the Canadian Shield. A long strip of thick grass ran the height of the cliff; with a little prodding, it released from the line of the route to end up like a roll of carpet at the bottom. People lined up at the bottom to get in on a first ascent. As for the name, she inspired many routes!

    Distrust: without an up-to-date guidebook, information and names were usually passed along at McDonagh’s pub over a toasty and a pint. I thought Thrust was actually Trust; it was either due to the noise in the pub, the slurred Guinness speech or my problem with the Irish brogue – was it “did I want thick socks” or “six socks” or were these to the be “3 pairs” or “12 socks”? The route needed extreme cleaning to remove ivy, loose rock and other vegetation (and from the look of the 2005 guide picture it never became a popular route). Tools of the trade included an entrenching tool and yard broom. Fuelled on sardines and Tizer, the route became reality. After we learned the true name of the adjacent route, Distrust seemed an apt name for the route that tackled the first loose rock in the quarry. Paul McHugh on the second ascent with Leslie Wooton confirmed its difficulty and character; it lead to an invitation a few weeks later from Sé Billane to join the Spillikin Club. Dónal Ó Murchú saw to it that I never achieved the entry requirements!


    Distrust first ascent, 1972

    Tipp Toed: came from having a girlfriend from Tipp. The peg was placed to prevent a potentially ugly ending on the steps. Remember she married me for my looks!

    Yellow Line Rider: Bob Richardson’s breach of the Central Buttress, the first new route on the rock for 24 years. The name was derived from the Richardson brothers’ hazardous biking antics; they were the original Dublin bike couriers. Another 10 years and improvements in gear and training would pass before other features were named.

    Brown Sugar: the rock had the consistency of BS.

    Time Burner: exposed after a fire cleared sections of rock at either end of White Wall. A burnt-out watch lay on a ledge at mid-height.

    Black Hand Gang: this route possibly lit the fuse on Gerry Moss; after the climb we both had “black hands” and were fired to explore.

    Ultima Thule: our first venture out onto the “blank stuff”, “beyond the borders of the known world”; Seán Darby’s lead of the second pitch was impressive.

    Visions of the Emerald Beyond: horizontal exploration heading for a patch of emerald grass over beyond Helios. A lot of new ground was covered.

    Creeping Paralysis: what I believe was my hardest “aid-free” new route. Paralysed with fear, EB’s, no chalk and a long fall in the offing, the name seemed obvious.

    Siesta: that afternoon I teamed up with Mick O’Shea; the banter was voluminous. After the climb, I went to see Ester, but I could not spell her name in my message to Dónal.

    Mahjongg: spelling again, is it “g” or “gg”? . Extensive cleaning never seemed to get down to “solidity”. The Chinese game that involves a lot of little bricks seemed apt; each hold was a loose little brick! It was nearly called “7 Up” but we could not find two additional people to meet the loose challenge. Jim Butler wore his sandals (so the story goes) and Bob Richardson was mad that I didn’t let him lead it. I put in the hard graft to make the route so I should get the first crack at it!

    Solid State: the micro-electronics age was just starting; the rock was far from Solid State, climbed in a gale while carrying an empty ruc-sac. The additional lift got me up; my accomplices Dónal and Jim B were unable to follow.

    The Gnasher: first ascent 12.8.72 and not as recorded in the 2005 guide. Shame about the aid but it did lead to its future free ascent. The “nash” was of the Cathy fame.

    Dillon’s Dawn: an aid extravaganza climbed the day Nash became Dillon. Again in the 2005 guide the ivy fights back. Free-climbed 20 years after the first ascent; should I have left it unclimbed?

    Superette: the aid or super étrier was used as the route was battling up through ivy.

    Orcrist Goblin-Cleaver: Ivy Wall area was thick with ivy. The initial explorations involved chimneying between the rock and the creepers and utilising a 17” long First World War bayonet as a machete to rid the wall of the infernal growth. Pre-environmental awareness! Tolkien inspired the name.

    Damocles: another famous sword; I would not have wanted to fall carrying that weapon.

    Tenashity: word play, shitty hanging on.

    The Shield: the once-obvious iron disc, now sadly removed.

    Eleven’s a Crowd: the Eliminates were crowded; I wanted to climb unhindered.

    Up Slide Run: progress seemed to be up, slide, run.

    Re-Entry: the reason for the name escapes me; the 2005 guide description makes me believe the route lacks ascents and it is wet. At the time of the first ascent, it was quality clean rock, spoiled only by the peg. Second ascent by Dónal Windrim confirmed its quality at the time.

    Lumberjack: Christy Rice and others employed the first major quarry clear cutting of the ‘70’s.

    Oggie: the name for a Cornish pasty, to match the Yorkshire Pudding theme for British regional food!

    Stereo Tentacles: popular stereo music was just beginning; reaching out during the final bridging sequence was like music coming from different directions compared to the earlier thin moves. Dónal screamed in stereo as he stretched to bridge!

    Shatt: described in the guide as dubious rock, to me it was “shattered” and so were we. Pre-cleaned on abseil from “stacked hexcentrics”, newly arrived from the USA with Bob Richardson.

    Subpoena: Nixon, Watergate and all that.

    For a future Newsletter, "Why’s Dat Climb Called Dis?" will explore more of my route names in Luggala, Glendalough, Clare and other places.

  • Why's Dis Climb Called Dat?

    (by Steve Young, from IMC Newsletter Autumn 2010)
    Steve tells us about his arrival in Ireland, and explains some of his Dalkey route names.


    Hey Mister Young, if you’re out there in Canada send us more photos and stories from the temple – Luggala. Your last dispatch was great, seeing you and the other hard chaws from the 70’s, hearing the routes you put up and how they got their names. And hey, I’d appeal to any of your cronies to do the same. We know you’re out there. And not just stuff on Luggala. Glendo – The Quarry – Donegal – Fair Head – anywhere. Come on, this is great history, we love to see and hear it. I know others feel the same.

    After calls from John Duignan and Barry Watts to put something down on paper for the IMC Newsletter how could one say no to such a “forum call” from Gerry Galligan on April 13, 2010.

    New Routing

    Somehow the thrill of seeking out new places and lines to climb has a far greater appeal to me than doing the existing routes or climbing harder and harder problems. Perhaps it was some latent explorer gene that was bursting to get out. Having previously climbed on the extensively developed granite of S.W. England, the opportunities there for new discoveries and lines were extremely limited; hopefully Ireland would be different. The excitement of the new route challenge is there; one must climb within your capability, both up and down. You never know what is ahead but hopefully you can remember how to reverse the moves if the impossible is reached.

    The Gear

    My initial rack in Ireland consisted of a Troll belt, through which you threaded the rope and secured it around your waist with a bowline and keeper knot. Protection consisted of a number of tape and rope slings for spikes and flakes, 3 Peck crackers (1/4”, 1/2”, 1”), 1 wired 3/16” Peck cracker, 3 Clog hexes and a 1/8” brass Clog on impossibly stiff wire, a small versatile Troll wedge and the one and only saviour, the MOAC wedge on tape. A ton of steely crabs and one Pierre Allain alloy crab completed the equipment. This crab had the dubious distinction of going “furry” after a day on the sea cliffs! Depending on location, a wide selection of chrome-moly pegs and hammer were carried and even a bolt, hanger and drill! After the arrival (1973) of our own walking climbing shop in the form of Bob Richardson I expanded the protection to a set of 10 Choui Hexcentrics and a wallet full of alloy crabs. The steely’s were gratefully accepted by others. The faithful blue Compton lid topped me off and a pair of Terray Saussois big wall boots or a pair of EB Super Grattons had me shod. How could I forget the infamous 8 that produced copious amounts of brass filings when abseiling on a gritty cleaning rope!

    In the Beginning

    On my arrival at Rosslare early one misty Wednesday morning in Autumn 1971, the climbing potential was soon realised. A stop by a grotto outside Wexford town, a run across the dewy grass and I was up a nice cracked slab. My old A40 Somerset had made it this far, I travelled light; my clothes, tools to fix the car, climbing gear, my mineral processing notes from University and a photocopy of pages from “Where to Climb in the British Isles” by Edward Pyatt that related to Éire. There was no mention of these rocks!

    Thursday evening after work at Avoca Mines, I explored Bell Rock for its climbing potential, again no mention in Pyatt. I believe modern activity has developed this interesting rock!

    The next evening I was up on Mottee Stone Hill, a-bouldering without a beanie and even following Ireland’s early via ferrata.


    Steve Young in 1973, on the Mottee Stone

    Now, it was the weekend; with no GPS, mobile phone or Climbing.ie forum or route database I set out to find the brief but intriguingly described Glendalough, Luggala and Dalkey climbing potential. The magic mist of an early Irish morning (I had not found Guinness yet) accompanied me across the wonderful road from Rathdrum to Laragh and onto the all but deserted car park by the lake at Glendalough. By the time I had eaten my “sarnies” and cheese, washed down with Tizer, explored the old mining buildings, examined the roll crusher, I headed up the scree towards the musical “clank” of gear. High on the dark granite to the right of the main buttress, two climbers battled with gravity. A call up to them was almost unintelligibly answered by “F-O”. Boy! the natives weren’t friendly. I headed off back down the scree past huge wild-looking goats. (I was later to learn it was Christy Rice and Doug Milnes on the first ascent of Rock Island Line). The initial reaction was, lots of nice-looking routes, obviously cleaned lines, little scope for my exploratory side, keep away from the natives.

    Next it was on through Annamoe, past the church high on the hill at Derralossary, where President Erskine Childers was to be buried a few years later, past Roundwood and up the Sally Gap road to the gates above Loch Tay. Wow! That’s a crag. Little did I realise what a hell of a walk back I was to have as I skipped down the sheep-shit-strewn road to the lower gate and off down to the river, its stepping stones and access to the huge boulder field below Luggala. The crag offered a somewhat appealing sight but somehow there was something not right; were they slabs, what with all the vegetation, were there cracks, why did it look so “unvisited”? Lots to be done but I was soon to learn from “pub tales” that it was an ominous place and best to stay away from its lichenous garb! Didn’t meet any unfriendly natives!

    It was Sunday; again I woke early and headed north in search of Dalkey, a quarry that appeared to be in the middle of a residential area. I parked at the top car park, walked across to the tower and view the scene below and over Dublin and the bay. Climbers punctuated the broken walls and gorsy ledges. I zipped down the steps and around to an area known as the East Valley. Here, three swearing climbers fought over who was to first tackle the white lift of granite; it was Diphthong. This trio was my greatest find to date, Jimmy Leonard, Joe Mulhall and Paddy Lyons. The end of the rope was handed to me; their argument was over, my trial began! Next it was Triptych; arrangements were made for Thursday night at the Teachers Club and my introduction to Guinness by Paddy. There was obvious potential within the quarry, blank unclimbed areas of rock, ivy-covered walls, vegetated cracks and friendly climbers! I acquired my “Climber’s Guide to Dalkey Quarry” (the 1964 O’Flynn edition) at this first IMC meeting.


    Diphthong, autumn 1971

    And now for the names

    Cathy Crackers: this route started my quarry gardening. I was soon to become “the mad English gardener”, a name that I soon re-acquired over here in the Canadian Shield. A long strip of thick grass ran the height of the cliff; with a little prodding, it released from the line of the route to end up like a roll of carpet at the bottom. People lined up at the bottom to get in on a first ascent. As for the name, she inspired many routes!

    Distrust: without an up-to-date guidebook, information and names were usually passed along at McDonagh’s pub over a toasty and a pint. I thought Thrust was actually Trust; it was either due to the noise in the pub, the slurred Guinness speech or my problem with the Irish brogue – was it “did I want thick socks” or “six socks” or were these to the be “3 pairs&
    rdquo; or “12 socks”? The route needed extreme cleaning to remove ivy, loose rock and other vegetation (and from the look of the 2005 guide picture it never became a popular route). Tools of the trade included an entrenching tool and yard broom. Fuelled on sardines and Tizer, the route became reality. After we learned the true name of the adjacent route, Distrust seemed an apt name for the route that tackled the first loose rock in the quarry. Paul McHugh on the second ascent with Leslie Wooton confirmed its difficulty and character; it lead to an invitation a few weeks later from Sé Billane to join the Spillikin Club. Dónal Ó Murchú saw to it that I never achieved the entry requirements!


    Distrust first ascent, 1972

    Tipp Toed: came from having a girlfriend from Tipp. The peg was placed to prevent a potentially ugly ending on the steps. Remember she married me for my looks!

    Yellow Line Rider: Bob Richardson’s breach of the Central Buttress, the first new route on the rock for 24 years. The name was derived from the Richardson brothers’ hazardous biking antics; they were the original Dublin bike couriers. Another 10 years and improvements in gear and training would pass before other features were named.

    Brown Sugar: the rock had the consistency of BS.

    Time Burner: exposed after a fire cleared sections of rock at either end of White Wall. A burnt-out watch lay on a ledge at mid-height.

    Black Hand Gang: this route possibly lit the fuse on Gerry Moss; after the climb we both had “black hands” and were fired to explore.

    Ultima Thule: our first venture out onto the “blank stuff”, “beyond the borders of the known world”; Seán Darby’s lead of the second pitch was impressive.

    Visions of the Emerald Beyond: horizontal exploration heading for a patch of emerald grass over beyond Helios. A lot of new ground was covered.

    Creeping Paralysis: what I believe was my hardest “aid-free” new route. Paralysed with fear, EB’s, no chalk and a long fall in the offing, the name seemed obvious.

    Siesta: that afternoon I teamed up with Mick O’Shea; the banter was voluminous. After the climb, I went to see Ester, but I could not spell her name in my message to Dónal.

    Mahjongg: spelling again, is it “g” or “gg”? . Extensive cleaning never seemed to get down to “solidity”. The Chinese game that involves a lot of little bricks seemed apt; each hold was a loose little brick! It was nearly called “7 Up” but we could not find two additional people to meet the loose challenge. Jim Butler wore his sandals (so the story goes) and Bob Richardson was mad that I didn’t let him lead it. I put in the hard graft to make the route so I should get the first crack at it!

    Solid State: the micro-electronics age was just starting; the rock was far from Solid State, climbed in a gale while carrying an empty ruc-sac. The additional lift got me up; my accomplices Dónal and Jim B were unable to follow.

    The Gnasher: first ascent 12.8.72 and not as recorded in the 2005 guide. Shame about the aid but it did lead to its future free ascent. The “nash” was of the Cathy fame.

    Dillon’s Dawn: an aid extravaganza climbed the day Nash became Dillon. Again in the 2005 guide the ivy fights back. Free-climbed 20 years after the first ascent; should I have left it unclimbed?

    Superette: the aid or super étrier was used as the route was battling up through ivy.

    Orcrist Goblin-Cleaver: Ivy Wall area was thick with ivy. The initial explorations involved chimneying between the rock and the creepers and utilising a 17” long First World War bayonet as a machete to rid the wall of the infernal growth. Pre-environmental awareness! Tolkien inspired the name.

    Damocles: another famous sword; I would not have wanted to fall carrying that weapon.

    Tenashity: word play, shitty hanging on.

    The Shield: the once-obvious iron disc, now sadly removed.

    Eleven’s a Crowd: the Eliminates were crowded; I wanted to climb unhindered.

    Up Slide Run: progress seemed to be up, slide, run.

    Re-Entry: the reason for the name escapes me; the 2005 guide description makes me believe the route lacks ascents and it is wet. At the time of the first ascent, it was quality clean rock, spoiled only by the peg. Second ascent by Dónal Windrim confirmed its quality at the time.

    Lumberjack: Christy Rice and others employed the first major quarry clear cutting of the ‘70’s.

    Oggie: the name for a Cornish pasty, to match the Yorkshire Pudding theme for British regional food!

    Stereo Tentacles: popular stereo music was just beginning; reaching out during the final bridging sequence was like music coming from different directions compared to the earlier thin moves. Dónal screamed in stereo as he stretched to bridge!

    Shatt: described in the guide as dubious rock, to me it was “shattered” and so were we. Pre-cleaned on abseil from “stacked hexcentrics”, newly arrived from the USA with Bob Richardson.

    Subpoena: Nixon, Watergate and all that.

    For a future Newsletter, "Why’s Dat Climb Called Dis?" will explore more of my route names in Luggala, Glendalough, Clare and other places.

  • The Poisoned Glen: the 1970s Onwards

    (by Peter Cooper, from IMC Newsletter Autumn 2010)
    This is the second part of an article focussing on the development of Donegal’s Poisoned Glen.

    The previous article looked at the early developments from 1950 up until 1970. As with the previous article, I need to add that this is not the definitive history as the story is still developing; a concise version of the two articles will be published in the next Donegal guide.

    To briefly recap

    The Poisoned Glen and its place in Irish-rock-climbing’s history really started with Gibson and Mc Murray’s ascent of Green Grass Gully in 1950. The major players in its early development were the IMC’s climbers and a few, significant, visiting British climbers; they were all truly pioneering and at very respectable grades too. The IMC produced The Glen’s first guide in 1962. By the end of the 60s Irishmen McDermott and Goulding had led the great and oft-tried line of Obituary Corner [1], and British climbers, the famed Estcourt and Bonington, had bagged its sought-after sister-route Obituary Column (VS) [2]. Frank Winder was concentrating on his biochemistry career, having made a very significant impact on Irish climbing; he left a tally of 9 routes in The Glen – often climbing with Betty Healy [3]. Healy climbed on half a dozen new routes in The Glen and was an editor of the first Donegal guide with Seán Rothery [4]. Yorkshireman Harold Drasdo had climbed his last new route in The Glen, The Direct (HVS) on Bearnas Buttress. Between himself and his brother Neville, they ‘bowed-out’ with a tally of 20 new routes in The Glen. Andrew ‘Max’ Maxfield and R. Wilde, appear from records, got the last route of the 60s with Un-Named Route in the September of 1969, bringing the tally of climbs in The Glen to 45 routes; and that marked the end of the first two decades of climbing in Donegal’s Poisoned Glen.

    Many of the routes remain classic lines worthy of your attention; some are among the finest climbing experiences to be had in Ireland and other routes are over-due for re-appraisal.

    1970 onwards

    When the 1960s ended a new era didn’t begin: 5 years had to pass before another two new routes were recorded. Pat Redmond and Dave Walsh [5] climbed Kongen (HVS) in the August of 1974. Walsh recalls his eldest brother, also a climber, introduced him to The Glen and that they had climbed lots of routes there. Eventually he spied the line of Kongen. Having been rained-out of Norway that summer, Redmond and Walsh returned to climb in Donegal, the line was climbed and it received the Norwegian word for king as its name. Though the line wasn’t climbed entirely in the style Walsh would have liked:

    “I couldn’t make a move about a third the way up without protection. Pat had a go and made the move and got protection in. Then he couldn’t make the next (crux) move where the wall bulges a little. To my horror he pulled on a nut and finished the route. We have “discussed” the matter many times since. Pat was my best friend over 25 years but we never saw eye to eye on that. To our amazement we couldn’t get up the last easier-angled bit. The corner straight above didn’t go and the shelves to the side were rounded off and we couldn’t manage. We tried for hours and hours and eventually ran out of time. It was pitons or abseil, and we chose pitons.”

    The tale for Walsh did eventually get a happy ending:

    “I always knew it would go and I eventually got back in the early 90s. I strolled up the main pitch and though the last pitch slowed us, Finbarr Crowley got a wee wire in and protection wasn’t an issue. Then it was straightforward delicate HVS slabbing, and he was up to it. Really it’s a magnificent route”.
    (Dave Walsh 2010)

    On the Last Small Buttress Anaconda Corner was the second new route climbed in the October of 1974, by the team of Findlay, Moore and Hawkins. Its name continued a tradition of snake-themed climb names started in 1959 by Frank Winder.

    There were no more new routes for four years. June 1978 saw legends of the Irish climbing scene Calvin Torrans and Clare Sheridan [6] add three routes. The 140m+ Rah on the West Buttress was the first E2 in the Glen; it rates 5c and gets 3 stars. It was to remain the hardest route in The Glen for fifteen years. Calvin and Clare also added the Glen’s first E1, Bad Blood on Creag na mBreac, but not until 1993. It can happen that a harder grade is climbed first but this was a fairly astonishing time scale. In my previous article I noted that it seemed almost incredible to believe that E1 had not come to The Glen prior to this date (37 years after the first HVS), especially as some of its 1950s pioneers had climbed extremes elsewhere by the mid-1950s. There’s still no answers, suggestions or objections come forth on this subject. Calvin and Sé O Hanlon [7] were to do the First Free Ascent (FFA) of Goulding and McDermott’s 1968 route Saoirse (HVS). Calvin let me know he climbed Nightshade (HVS) ‘free’ about 30 years ago, but also confirmed he wasn’t the first to do it; alas he does not know who did the FFA. Does anyone out there have the answer for me? In 2010, Dave Walsh still clearly recalled his ascent of Nightshade and rated it as “the best route I ever climbed in Ireland, never mind Donegal”. Calvin also got the FFA of pitch 3 of Geoff Sutton and Harold Drasdo’s 1957 route Hammer and Sickle (HVS) in 1981. Calvin still has ambitions in The Glen!

    1978 also saw the IMC’s 1962 Donegal guide re-printed, containing 30 climbs in The Glen and with no updates whatsoever. There must have been a perceived need for it but I doubt it would have caused a stampede. I wonder how many copies were sold? So until the publication of 1979’s Malinbeg guide, to those not ‘in-the-know’, it would have seemed that no other climbing had been done and no other crags developed in Donegal. Now we have the internet and a tally of 1500+ climbs in Donegal on the CCC’s web-site.

    1979 saw the ascent of Mamba (VS) on the Last Small Buttress by a team consisting of Tom Hand and Emmet Goulding. There is a possibility that this was the same line as College Route, done in the late 60s by Maxfield and Rittman. Either way, 30+ years on, this was the last new route recorded on this buttress; perhaps there’s some lines that were overlooked? It was nice to see a return by Goulding to new-routing in The Glen, having been active throughout the Derryveagh crags from 1960 onwards. He lives less than an hour away from these crags, so we should be encouraging him to get out more.

    1985 saw Dawson Stelfox’s [8] 1985 Donegal guidebook published, the first whole-of-Donegal guide since 1962. The Poisoned Glen did not feature in Stelfox and Torrans’ Rock Climbing in Ireland guide of 1984. This did not go un-noticed at the time and I wonder if this would still be the case, if the guide were to be compiled now? Frank Winder’s routes elsewhere in Ireland (and Donegal) did feature in the guide but none of his Glen contributions made it into the final draft. Perhaps this would not be the case if a new selection were made? Especially as some of Malinbeg’s routes have fallen into the sea.

    On Creag na mBreac, Alan Tees [9] added Dubious Maiden (HS) in 1985, putting that year’s guidebook further out of date. Also putting his own guidebook out of date, on the Ballaghgeeha Buttress Stelfox and Andy McFarlane climbed Anachronism (E2) in 1988. Dawson returned in 1991 with Mrs Stelfox, Margaret, adding Jaundiced Eyes (HVS).

    Niall Grimes‘s [10] 1993 Donegal Supplement showed that development had slowed down further, as attentions had gone away from the mountain crags to the outcrops; nonetheless four new routes were recorded. Oddly, Grimer did not add any routes here; which is curious as he was active over on the nearby Lough Barra crags with Al Millar.

    1993 saw Derrymen Paul Dunlop [11] and Kieran Gallagher Chasing the Dragon; this line was The Glen’s first E3, and remains its hardest line to the present day (now there’s a challenge!).

    “We basically knew that this buttress was the cleanest in the glen and that it is close to the road if you walk from the Lough Barra side. So myself and Kieran Gallagher went down for a weekend to see if there would be new routes … the line of Chasing the Dragon really stood out quite prominently and was just waiting to be climbed.  It didn’t require much cleaning and so I decided to just do it. I wasn’t aware that Chasing the Dragon was the hardest route in the glen … I’m quite pleased about that!”
    (Paul Dunlop, Summer 2010).

    I recently contacted Paul regarding a tale I’d had relayed concerning his efforts at trying to free Nightshade. The route he’d actually been trying to be free was not Allan Austin’s Nightshade but Calvin and Clare’s Rah (E2), with Al Millar.

    “The route was Rah E2 5c which has a point of aid at the crux pitch that myself and Alan Millar set out to free. It started out ok but the higher up we went the wetter the crag was; one pitch before the crux pitch was like crossing a slab with a sheet of water flowing down it, it was very bad. Alan got to the crux pitch and it was impassable because of the wet. At this stage we were too high up to start retreating so we just forced a new route to finish, but by this time it was pitch dark (it was October) and we had no head torches so we had 2 long pitches of new climbing in complete darkness, then a nightmare 3-hour descent  where you couldn’t even see your feet on the ground or Alan standing right next to you … very scary considering the massive drops all around. So we had to sit down and crawl for hours down in the dark, falling over small buttresses not knowing when you were going to stop. I got hypothermia, broke most of my finger nails halfway to the quick and felt nothing … it was a bad day out!”

    In August 2010, I was reading some copies of Irish magazine Rock Climber and in the back of it I found 2 new routes dating from 1994, Summer of My Dreams (VS 4c) and Emigrants Eyes (HVS 5a), both climbed in June by G. Murray and M. McNaught. This was going to possibly scupper the later new routes on the buttress. Fortunately, Kevin McGee has provided an accurate photo-topo showing where the routes overlap – but it also shows enough independence for all the lines to be listed. I was dreading telling the new-routers that their lines had already been done, as I’ve been there myself and it can be disappointing – to say the least. Ironically the magazines were lent to me by previous Donegal guidebook editor Alan Tees. Here’s to serendipity.

    Alan Tees’ 2002 Donegal guidebook reflected the continued focus on developing Donegal’s outcrops and isles.

    Development since the guide hasn’t ceased though. Alan Tees, Marty McGuigan and Marty’s son Mark added a new line to The Glen in 2003: Return of The Eagles (HVS 5a), which finds it way up two pitches and 50m of fine Donegal granite on the West Buttress, with the added bonus of an off-width followed by overhanging flakes with hidden holds.

    2005 saw the Millar Brothers [12], Al and Dave, cleaning halfway-up the Castle Gully, adding Spectrum (E2) and Chemical Brothers (E1). Al returned with fellow CCC member Donna Ryan, and they climbed Claymore in the Gully (E1) and Llanrwst or Bust (HVS). What set this period of development apart was its intensity; four new routes done in one year is something where the Glen is concerned but this was four in maybe just a month and certainly under two months. Also, they were not on the Ballagheega Buttress – this was some new territory.

    In 2007 recently-immigrated Orcadian-Scotsman, Iain Miller (CCC) took time out from sea-stack-conquering and explored the Castle, producing a ‘gri-gri-solo’ (ask him, I don’t know either) of To Be Continued (HVS 4c). The route goes up to the base of the very fine looking feature Portcullis Wall, which Iain describes as “ahem, a bit harder”.

    The July of 2008 saw Donegal natives Kevin McGee and Patrick Tinny (CCC) climb Patagonian Summer (HVS) on the smooth walls of Ballaghgeeha Buttress. However, a short-lived bit of confusion over whether this was a new route was settled by Alan Tees. Alan was there the day a peg was placed, prior to a bail-out by Paula Turley and partner, on the original attempt of this line. McGee and Tinny took time-off from developing Crocanaffrin in June 2009 and climbed The Mistress (HVS), the Glen’s 17th HVS line. Kevin and Patrick display the Donegal climbing spirit amply; with only a couple of years climbing experience they were new-routing in the birthplace of climbing in Donegal.

    What next?

    Lately it would seem that climbing in the Glen is seeing a minor revival [13]. The potential is still out there for the hardy gardener, with a very long rope and lots of time. The lines are out there for the keen, but it’s a touch of boldness that‘s going to help most – on the cleaner faces. An acceptance of long walk-ins, possible damp routes and horrendous midges on calm summer days do seem to be necessary to get the most out of your day.

    When I first drafted this article the next line was: ‘And, more winter potential could be out there for those with a penchant for starting out before it gets light.’ Well, the Christmas of 2009 proved to an absolute bumper year for winter-climbing throughout the Donegal highlands, including The Glen. Fine efforts were made by many members of the CCC. It saw new winter routes climbed, which further adds to your reasons to find your way there. Iain Miller had a Christmas Day to make many of us envious. Rather than stuff himself with turkey and trimmings Iain was new-routing on the Donegal ice! See the reports on the CCC website’s logbook [LINK] and on-line guide.

    Developments since last article (1950-1970)

    Whilst browsing the internet I came across an article featuring Trinity College’s Reverend Caesar Otway, which referred to him abseiling in The Poisoned Glen in 1853. He published Sketches of Ireland. I’ve been unable to find the article again and research his mountain adventures further. I’d be very interested to read an article about him, if somebody else knows about him: he could prove to be an historically-important early figure in Irish climbing. Though, abseiling’s one thing, climbing is another.

    It is entirely probable that the Reverend Otway and Henry Chichester Hart would have known of each other, if not met, being of the Irish gentry class and Trinity graduates.

    H.C. Hart is known to have been scrambling/climbing in The Glen in the 1880s and alphabetically named its gullies. In 1895 Hart wrote the Irish edition of Climbing in the British Isles for editor Walter Parry Haskett Smith. Having skim-read H.C. Hart’s Donegal plant books I know that he not only listed the plants he found but also said where they occurred in the Donegal highlands – via altitude. He had extensive knowledge of not only The Poisoned Glen and Mount Errigal, but was also familiar with Lough Belshade too; there’s every chance he would have scrambled the easy gully behind the main face. Hart’s intimacy with the Donegal landscape at its time was incredible and probably equalled by very few since. Additionally, Hart was also a Justice of Peace and wrote many critiques of Renaissance plays, particularly Shakespeare’s. They were a posh lot, the early Irish climbers. But should you go to the Fanad penninsula his house still stands and the garden is open to the public, at Carrablagh, north of Port Salon; importantly there is good climbing at Crocanaffrin and bouldering, developed by Glen pioneers the Millars, near Fanad Head.

    Harold Drasdo sent a very informative letter, which arrived after the previous article had been submitted for publication. It will be of use in the next guide’s production. Al Millar met with Harold in the early 2000s and interviewed him; he is also in possession of Harold’s own annotated 1962 Donegal guide, which corrects some of the lines. Neville Drasdo also contacted me and recalled his times in Ireland climbing with IMC members Winder, Rothery and Kenny, and the impressive climbs they did. Following climbing in Wicklow, they were guests at a party given by Bill Perrott. The Drasdo’s even got entertained by a warm fire in the library of the large house across the lake at Dunlewy, reputedly owned by members of the Guinness clan at that time.

    I have managed to contact Allan Austin regarding his time in The Glen and had a positive response but, alas, nothing has come through before this deadline.

    It was a nice surprise to recieve an e-mail reply from Chris Bonington, confirming he’d enjoyed visiting The Glen in ’68 but other than remembering it as being one of the wettest places he’d ever climbed he couldn’t recollect the actual climbing. He did however share his memory of that night, when he’d given his Eiger talk to IMC and Queens climbers in Belfast. It’s the only time he’s given a talk under the protection of armed British soldiers, who all enjoyed his talk; later he was taken to the Officers’ Mess and entertained til very late into the night. It possibly beats camping at Dunlewy.

    I was in touch with Belfast-based artist Dan Shipsides; he had an exhibition ‘Pioneers’ which was inspired by the early members of the IMC. As a result the audio interviews he conducted with Winder, Healy and Rothery are now available as free downloads.

    Well, that’s the story so far; it continues to develop and I hope you’ve enjoyed what I’ve shared with you. Thanks to all those who have assisted in helping with these articles. I hope you’re all feeling inspired to go to Donegal, will you get your new line in time for the next Donegal guide?

    I am still appealing to all of you for your memories, any gap-filling information and historical pictures; relating to Donegal’s pioneers and significant ascents on any of the Donegal crags. If you know any retired climbers, prod them for info and any pics they may have up in the attic; they may have valuable ‘stuff’ relating to Irish climbing history!

    Should you want to check details of routes, add comments or submit a new route then go to the Colmcille Climbers Club website: www.pete-smith.co.uk, home of the on-line Donegal climbing guide. I can be contacted via the CCC’s on-line guide page.

    Peter Cooper was President of the CCC (2008-10) and is Editor of the Donegal guide.

    Bibliography

    • Climbers’ Club Journals on CC web site
    • Harold Drasdo, The Ordinary Route, 1997
    • W. P. Haskett Smith, Climbing in The British Isles (1895): Ireland by H. C. Hart
    • Donegal guidebook, IMC 1962 (unaccredited in the guide: Healy, Rothery and Wathen)
    • Dawson Stelfox, Donegal, FMCI 1985
    • Alan Tees, Donegal, MCI 2002
    • IMC Journals on IMC web site
    • 1984 Rock Climbing in Ireland

    Conversations, correspondences and e-mails (so far) were with: Harold and Neville Drasdo, John Duignan, Paul Dunlop, Betty Healy, Kevin McGee, Al and Dave Millar, Iain Miller, Alan Tees, Patrick Tinney, Calvin Torrans and Dave Walsh.

    Footnotes

    • [1] This was the sought-after line that many of The Glen’s regulars had lusted after.
    • [2] The line having repelled many Glen regulars, including Harold Drasdo who with his brother Neville had climbed The Glen’s first two HVS’s back in 1956. A line not to be taken lightly, perhaps?
    • [3] Healy was a keen new-router on crags throughout Ireland and was a climber of some repute; she climbed better than many of the male climbers in Ireland at that time. Now in her late eighties she still recalls her climbing times, in the 50s and 60s, with much fondness.
    • [4] Seán Rothery served as IMC President 1970-72. He also pioneered notable new routes on several of the Derryveagh crags.
    • [5] Dave Walsh was IMC President 1986-88 and pioneer of many routes at Malinbeg.
    • [6] I cannot start to say how many routes they have climbed in Ireland, from the late 1960s onwards, but let’s just say it’s a hell of a lot! And always at a good standard too.
    • [7] Sé is a legend of Irish cycling, winning The Rás several times in the 1960s. He served as IMC President 2003-4.
    • [8] Editor of Donegal Rock Climbs 1985, leader of first Irish team to climb Everest and became a President of the Mountaineering Council of Ireland (now MI). He’s also an architect, in his spare time.
    • [9] Climbing since the 1970s, a long-term member of the North West Mountaineering Club, later he became a founding member and the first President of the Colmcille Climbers Club, edited the 2002 Rock Climbs in Donegal; eventually he became President of Mountaineering Ireland.
    • [10] Derry lad, ‘Grimer’ was a keen activist in Donegal from the mid-1980s to mid-1990s. He is now resident in Sheffield and employed as guidebooks editor at the BMC; his definitive Stanage guide won that year’s BANFF guidebook award.
    • [11] Paul and brother Raymond are well known for being talented climbers and have many hard routes in Donegal. Paul also gained a reputation for significant hard ascents in the Burren, often solo. Paul has been at the fore-front of the campaign for a new climbing wall for Derry which should help see not only a rise in climbing standards but also a long-overdue rise in numbers climbing in the North West.
    • [12] Sons of Donegal, the Millars are also part of the Derry scene that gave us Niall Grimes, the Dunlop Brothers and a significant jump in climbing standards. Al was a member of the CCC from its inception and a long-serving secretary. Dave Millar continues the family’s new-routing tradition at a good standard, is a member of the CCC, and a keen contributor to the Donegal guidebook.
    • [13] New routes over a 7-year period were more than double the 4 climbed in the 8 years between the Stelfox guide and Grimer’s supplement.
  • The Poisoned Glen: 1950-1970

    (by Peter Cooper, from IMC Newsletter Spring 2010)
    The history of "one of the crucibles of modern Irish climbing … set in one of the finest locations in Ireland".


    Recently, as part of guidebook work, I have begun researching the development of rock-climbing in The Poisoned Glen. It was one of the crucibles of modern Irish climbing, despite such an ominous name, and it is set in one of the finest locations in Ireland. One-thousand-foot faces of virgin granite may just have been the attraction to those rare early climbers. Members of the recently-formed IMC were very much at the vanguard of its development, along with a few British climbers.

    The Glen is steeped in a rich history, particularly through the 1950s and 60s, that deserves to be recorded and it will be; in the next Donegal guide. The climbing connections that weave through this tale are numerous, to say the least. There is, possibly, too much information to be contained in a guidebook, hence this article and a liberal use of footnotes.

    I do, however, need to make it clear that this article is a ‘work-in-progress’ and it is also an appeal for information at the same time. As write, I am awaiting replies to phone calls, e-mails and letters for assistance from some of The Glen’s early pioneers. They are still with us, thanks to God. There are others I’ve yet to contact. But, a deadline’s a deadline! I intend to provide a follow-up article, to fill in the current gaps I have and to tell The Glen’s story up to the present.

    Located in Donegal’s Derryveagh Mountains, the climbing is at the head of a majestic Glen and is spread over 6 crags: Creag na mBreac, Ballaghgeeha Buttress, The Castle, Bearnas Buttress and The Far West Buttress.

    Exploration of The Glen first began with Irish botanist Henry Chichester Hart [1], who was scrambling up and down The Glen’s gullies in the 1880s, undertaking his botanical surveys. I wonder if he would have even bumped into a shepherd out there and what would have become of him if he’d had an accident back then? Let’s not dwell! Because of his in-depth and intimate knowledge of the mountains of Ireland, his native Donegal in particular, he wrote the Irish section of Climbing in The British Isles (1895), under the editorship of ‘the-father-of-British-climbing’ Walter Parry Haskett Smith [2]. Not too bad for a first climbing connection.

    In the 1930s the YHANI did explore climbing possibilities in Donegal, at Malin Head; but I’ve yet to find any records for The Derryveagh Mountains.

    So who did climb the first rock climb in The Glen?

    The earliest recorded rock climb in The Poisoned Glen, and in Donegal, was in 1950, when W. B. ‘Gaspé’ Gibson and Maurice Mc Murray [3] climbed Green Grass Gully on The Castle. This gully was also known by Hart as the un-climbable ‘E gully’; he’d named them gullies A-F. With its ‘particularly savage grass sections’, which were found harder than the rock sections; it gets a nominal Hard Very Difficult grade. Put yourself in their boots, happening upon the unclimbed Poisoned Glen. I certainly think I’d have climbed more than one line and I know I’d have returned for more. What were they thinking? Coincidently, in 1952 this team also put up the first routes on Lough Belshade’s crags too. And, they were also active in early Mournes exploration from the late 1940s; Mc Murray edited the 1959 Mournes guidebook.

    So I think we can take 2010 as the 60th Birthday of Donegal climbing.

    A regular climbing partner of Mc Murray’s, Philip Gribbon, was to get the next line in The Glen, in 1952. Jubilation was climbed by Gribbon [4], Joe Madill [5], Seán Rothery [6] and Doug Sloan, all IMC members; it became The Glen’s first Severe. It is also recorded that they climbed what was probably the 2nd ascent of Green Grass Gully. Again, we get a team going into this glen and recording only one line; when all is there for the taking. They certainly couldn’t be accused of being greedy.

    The oracle of Irish climbing history, Joss Lynam [7], wrote an article for The British Mountaineering Council’s Journal on The Glen, reporting on its 1,000-foot faces. IMC members may have heard of him. I’ve yet to read it but, the article must have highlighted potential rather than merely record the two climbs that had been done up to that point.

    In 1953 Yorkshireman Neville Drasdo, inspired by Joss’s article, travelled from the UK with Vivian Stevenson to The Glen. They met up with Dublin-based IMC climbers they’d previously contacted; somehow no new routes were done. Perhaps the Irish climbers diverted them with some golden Irish grain and maybe a pint, or two, of porter, stout or plain? Whilst in the Alps that year, Neville’s elder brother, Harold, met Frank Winder, Peter Kenny and Rothery [8]; they were very enthusiastic about Donegal’s potential.

    April 1954 saw the Drasdo Brothers hitch from Yorkshire; obviously Neville had not been put off by the previous year’s experience. The Original Route (S) and Greystone Rib (S) were both climbed on The Castle. Somehow, these were the only new routes climbed in The Glen that year. So finally we had a party go in and do more than one route. Well, they had come some way.

    “We fell deeply, blindly, helplessly under the spell of Donegal.”
    (H. Drasdo, 1997)

    I’ve had a couple of telephone conversations with Harold and his memories of his times in The Glen are remembered clearly and affectionately. Alas, cameras and film were a luxury in those days.

    1954 was also the year that Winder and Paul Hill went into Lough Belshade and breached the mighty face of Belshade Buttress; quite a coup [9].

    And, so far we are only at 1954. The following year developments really took-off. 1955 was also the year that things took off, over the hill, at Lough Barra.

    In the April of ’55, Gribbon, Miss K. Claus, Doug Sloan and D. Bond climbed White Walls (VD); Creag na mBreac’s first climb. Miss Claus therefore gets the distinction of being the first lady, known, to have climbed in The Glen, but the ‘First Lady of The Glen’ is undisputedly Miss Betty Healy [10]. ThatAugust saw Ballaghgeeha Buttress climbed for the first time. Winder and Miss Healy climbed Route Two (S); H. Drasdo, P. McMahon & Noel Masterson claimed the fine Diagonal (VD). Extra lines were also added to the buttress by the Hiberno-Anglo team of Winder, Healy and H. Drasdo; Ulysses became the first VS grade climb in the Glen.

    Drasdo, Healy and Winder were to remain friends from then on. They, and Donegal, both feature in Harold’s 1997 autobiography: The Ordinary Route. Winder eventually went on to add his name to nine new climbs in The Glen and Healy six.

    The emphases of the early climbs were ‘alpinistic’ in their aims, long multi-pitched climbs finding their way to the top; often combining pitches with earlier climbs. Route-finding and abseiling skills on the big faces were to be valued. Winder recounts this in his IMC Journal article, Ulysses.

    August 22nd 1956 saw H. Drasdo back, and with H. J. Thornton he climbed Golliker (VS), the West Buttress’s first route. August 26th, the Drasdo Brothers recorded The Glen’s first HVS: Berserker Wall on Ballaghgeeha Buttress. The following day they climbed the Glen’s 2nd HVS: Kon Tiki.

    1956 also saw the 2nd ascent [11] of Spillikin Ridge, in Co. Wicklow’s Glendalough, by the Yorkshire climbers Brian Evans, Allan Austin and Miss Jennifer Ruffe. Spillikin Ridge (E2) was climbed by Winder, Kenny, Hill and Rothery. It was a landmark climb for the Ireland of 1954, showing that although a much younger sport in Ireland than the UK, the best climbers were already at the heels of the finest British climbers.

    August 1957 saw the return of Allan Austin [12] and party, this time to visit The Poisoned Glen, on Harold Drasdo’s recommendation. Of the four routes climbed, Nightshade (HVS), jointly led by Austin and Brian Evans [13], stands out as one of the finest routes in Donegal [14]. It takes a line up the central dièdre on the Western Buttress, before tackling the roofs above. Originally graded VS, it’s now HVS, it received 8 pegs on its first ascent; far from normal practice for Messrs Evans and Austin. It should be noted that at this time Austin was on-sight-soloing fierce gritstone ‘XS’ [15] in Yorkshire. It remains a sought-after lead. I haven’t yet found out if it has had a free ascent; any answers out there?

    Hammer and Sickle (HVS) was climbed by H. Drasdo and Geoff Sutton [16]. This was a good challenging line and was not to see a first free ascent until 1981, which came courtesy of Calvin Torrans. They also climbed Tarantula that year.

    The CC Journal of 1958 reported that a party of climbers from Cambridge UMC had visited The Glen and did “useful work on new cliffs”. There are no routes recorded from them though, and which new cliffs these were is not known. 1958 also saw Staffordshire MC members visit and climb a new Severe on a high-up cliff, but this seems to have been lost or never properly reported.

    1958 turned out to be a quiet year due to it being a very wet one. Dubliners (?) was climbed by Betty Healy, Brian McCall and Frank Winder; it was considered to be the year’s only worthwhile climb. The 1959 CC Journal noted that in ‘58 “the low tide of Irish pioneering continued”. Irish route information supplied to the CC at this time was generally provided by Seán Rothery. I wonder what was going on back then; there’s no mention of any ‘tidal variations’ in the Irish climbing scene in the IMC Journal of the time.

    Ronnie Wathen [17] (an IMC and CC member) added a new route, Piglet’s Crack (VS) in April. One would imagine that the route would be interesting, if not challenging, as Wathen was to get one of the earliest repeats of Winder’s Spillikin Ridge; quite a status symbol for the time. The route somehow ‘slipped out’ of the 2002 Donegal guide, but it will be re-instated; as long as we can find it. I’d be grateful to hear your opinions on this and other lesser-known climbs in The Glen (and anywhere else in Donegal); feel free to use the CCC’s on-line guide’s comments section.

    1959 was a good year for new-routing parties; ten routes were added, highlights being: Rafiki (VS), Fiona (VS), Flanker/Un-named Route (VS), Route Major (HVS) and Rattlesnake Rib (VD).

    1959 saw Vivian Stevenson [18] back in Ireland with Corporal John ‘Zeke’ Deacon, Sergeant Terry Thompson and Corporal Bill Morrow; all were instructors from the Cliff Assault Wing of the British Army’s Commandos. Stevenson was now a Lieutenant in The Royal Marines. They were in Donegal to meet up with the Drasdo Brothers in The Glen; the visit is told fully in the Wearin o’ the Green article (IMC Journal 1960). With the Drasdos, Stevenson climbed the seven-pitch Linear B (VS). Finishing their trip in Glendalough the marines climbed Spearhead, with Frank Winder, and Cornish Rhapsody; each were graded ‘XS’ at the time [19]. The IMC journal of the time raved about these particular routes. Twenty-five years later these routes were still highly-regarded enough for inclusion in Rock Climbing in Ireland, and are still sought-after ticks over 50 years on.

    For those of you fortunate enough to have climbed The Devils’ Slide on the UK’s isle of Lundy, take note that it was climbed in 1961 by Climbers’ Club Vice President, Admiral Keith Lawder, and ‘Glen pioneer’, one Zeke Deacon [20]. It’s a fine Glen connection and an iconic route, should you ever see it. I wonder if it matches the experience of climbing on the granite of Donegal’s isles?

    Geoff Sutton was back in The Glen and climbed, with Andrew Maxfield, the line of Fiona (VS). It is quite close to his 1957 route, so it may have been a line spied for a return or perhaps a re-match? It was freed by Goulding in 1968.

    Harold Drasdo and Eric Langmuir also put up the first route in Glen Veagh in the April of ‘59. The following day, fellow Glen pioneer Betty Healy was also above Lough Veagh new routing. What a feeling that must have been for them, opening-up the new-routing on all three of the Derryveagh crags. And for Drasdo these were crags in another country, though certainly not a foreign one; by that time.

    Activities in the 1960s started off with the new-routing scene focused upon Lough Barra’s cliffs and there were concerted efforts to push lines up the faces at Glen Veagh, though not with the greatest of success.

    A pioneer of many of the hardest Welsh routes, at this time, was Hugh Banner; he came to Donegal and climbed at Lough Barra, adding Rule Britannia, but it is not recorded whether he visited The Glen.

    When was the first guidebook?

    Ronnie Wathen [21] produced a typewritten guide to The Glen’s climbs and this formed the majority of The Glen’s text in the 1962 IMC Donegal Rock Climbs. The guide stated that it would be many years before the Donegal cliffs would be worked-out. I would add that there’s still plenty of potential out there now. Compiled by Rothery and Healy, it records 30 climbs at The Poisoned Glen. Amazing but true, it was reprinted in 1978!

    The majority of the1960s recorded very few routes being done in The Glen, or indeed Donegal. Donegal was described at the time as “Ireland’s largest rock climbing area”. The Irish notes in the 1967 CC Journal noted “This area, with Ireland’s finest granite crags, has been almost entirely neglected during the past year.” The wet slog into The Glen without the certainty of bagging a brace of new routes was considered to be a major factor in Dublin’s climbers not making the long trip up to Donegal. The earliest exploration of the sea crags was starting to happen, though much of this was found to be vegetated and scrappy.

    By 1968 the Donegal guide was unavailable and a typewritten guide was in production by John Forsythe and Robin Merrick, according to that December’s IMC newsletter. Dawson Stelfox’s 1985 Donegal guidebook references this guide as being produced in 1973.

    Emmet Goulding and Paul McDermott were in The Glen in ‘68; they climbed Saoirse (HVS) and bagged the line many climbers had eyed, Obituary Corner. Oft-tried, it had repelled many. It is a striking line on Bearnas Buttress and bears comparism with the famed Cenotaph Corner. It would have been a fine day to have witnessed them climb it, particularly if it had already spat you out. Goulding was already active on the other Derryveagh Mountains crags; from ‘62 onwards he’d been new-routing in Lough Barra and Glen Veagh, often making the first free ascents.

    In 1969 Harold Drasdo called into Dunlewy’s only bar for a drink and bumped into famous British mountaineers, Chris Bonnington and Nick Estcourt, recently returned from conquests in the Himalayas, and completely anonymous to the locals. They’d been to Donegal’s Slieve League [22], only to be disappointed. Having next to no information on The Glen, it was Harold who showed them the line next to Obituary Corner, one of the finer unclimbed lines remaining. Harold had provisionally named it Obituary Column. The compelling line had repelled several teams of Glen devotees for a number of years. Estcourt succeeded in leading this VS; the name stayed. And, for them, that was it. No other lines and no return for more new routes. Other fish to fry.

    ‘69 was also the year that Harold Drasdo climbed his last new route in the Glen, The Direct (HVS) on Bearnas Buttress; with Jim Williams. The Direct, had had the ‘doubtful distinction’ of a twelve year gestation period, being comprised of many pitches forced over many attempts, until being completed that year. Between 1954 and 1969 the Drasdo Brothers’ names were to appear on a very respectable tally of 20 first ascents here.

    A new era wasn’t to begin: five years passed before another two routes were recorded. This leaves us with a clear time-break for this article.

    In a 1970 Paddy O’Leary article, re-printed in an IMC newsletter, it was noted that in 1968 many routes in The Glen had received second ascents and that after a lull it was once more ‘in vogue’. Importantly for the eager climbers amongst you, reading this now, O’Leary announced that there was a new ‘status symbol’ amongst Ireland’s climbers. And that was, to have climbed The Glen’s bigger routes such as Nightshade and Slanting Grooves in a day; let’s see this resurrected now! I expect to see queuing in The Poisoned Glen this summer.

    The other side of this particular story is that the focus on the bigger cliffs meant that Donegal’s smaller cliffs and isles saw no development at all. For instance, Gola, one of Ireland’s finest climbing experiences, saw no development until the mid 1990s. Imagine that. Still the upside was that there was something left for the later generations of climbers. A second ‘Donegal’ guidebook wasn’t published until 1979’s S.W. Donegal, Malinbeg, and other sea cliffs, by Jimmy Leonard.

    One thing that I do find puzzling is, The Glen’s first E1. Currently I have Calvin Torrans and Clare Sheridan adding the first E2 (Rah) in 1978; they also added the first E1 (Bad Blood); but not until 1993. Their abilities are beyond question, but I would imagine they puzzled this one too. A gap of 37 years between the first HVS and the first E1? HVS’s were being climbed in The Glen in the mid-1950s; Winder, Austin and the Drasdos had already put up extremes and Miss Healy had repeated early Irish extremes; so again ability is unquestioned. Goulding was going great guns in the early 60s and Doug Scott added E2, on Sail Rock, in the late 1960s. Things don’t add up, I want answers!

    Throughout the 1950s and 1960s a new-routes logbook was kept by the O’Donnell’s who lived at The Lodge, Poisoned Glen. Now however, if you want to check details of routes, add comments or submit a new route then go to the Colmcille Climbers Club website: www.pete-smith.co.uk home of the on-line Donegal climbing guide.

    I hope the historical aspects of this article have been fascinating and the climbing connections engaging and that you can answer my appeal for information. Importantly, I hope it’s inspired you to visit The Poisoned Glen. The CCC’s members will happily try to meet up with you, if you send a message via the Club Secretary, Anthony Feeney, at the above web address.

    I’d like to appeal to all of you for information and for any historical pictures, relating to Donegal’s pioneers and significant ascents on any of the Donegal crags.

     

    Footnotes

    • [1] Hart was a member of the Alpine Club, The Linnean Society and The Royal Irish Academy. Hart prepared reports for The Royal Irish Academy on plants: Galtee Mountains (1881), SW Donegal (1885), S Donegal (1886) and Flowering Plants of the Mountains of Ireland (1891).
    • [2] W. P. Haskett Smith, pioneer of Lakeland rock and world famous, within climbing circles, for his 1886 ascent of Napes Needle; on the slopes of Great Gable. This feat is considered to be the first example of cragsmanship for its own sake and not just prep for the Alps. Haskett Smith celebrated the golden jubilee of the Nape’s Needle ascent, in 1936, by repeating the climb; at the grand age of 76. Some boy!
    • [3] Both were members of the newly-formed Belfast Section of the IMC, formed March 1952.
    • [4] Gribbon was a keen new router in the Mournes and edited the first Mournes guide in 1959. He was also the first Treasurer of QUBMC, which was formed in 1950.
    • [5] Madhill was killed in a climbing accident that August, whilst in Glencoe. He was a founding member of the IMC’s Belfast Section.
    • [6] IMC President 1970-72.
    • [7] One of the founding-fathers of the IMC in 1948 and President 1982-84.
    • [8] All three later served as IMC Presidents, Winder having the distinction of serving two separate Presidencies.
    • [9] Belshade Buttress was almost breached in 1952 by Gibson and McMurray, but wild weather, in such a remote spot, caused them to bail-out; one pitch from the top!
    • [10] Healy was that rare thing in 1950s Ireland: an Irish climber and female, who led new routes and at a standard as good as the men too! Hats off to Betty Healy.
    • [11] This was reported in the IMC’s journal; a later journal records Harold Drasdo as being the first to repeat the climb.
    • [12] The young Bradfordian quickly gained a formidable reputation, with on-sight-solo first ascents of High Street at Ilkley (1956) and The Shelf at Crookrise (1957); both are formidable Yorkshire Gritstone E2 climbs.
    • [13] Evans was co-founder, with Writer Walt Unsworth, of the Cicerone Press, established in 1967 after frustration at the lack of exploration-guidebooks to the English Lake District.
    • [14] The 1958 CC Journal reported that it was said to be the finest route in the area, possibly in all Ireland! High praise indeed.
    • [15] The Extreme Severe grading category hadn’t yet been invented, XS were simply climbs known to be harder than Hard VS.
    • [16] Sutton climbed with many folks and in many places but of interest is that in 1955 he was on the 1stascent of Scotland’s Old Man of Stoer, with Don Whillans and J. Barber. A nice connection with The Glen, I think.
    • [17] Wathen was at Dublin’s Trinity College and went on to become its climbing club’s 1st President. He joined the IMC in the mid-1950s. He was described as an ‘Irishman by inclination’. He was also a climbing partner and friend of British climbing legend Don Whillans.
    • [18] Stevenson was first known to the Drasdos from around 1950, via The Wall End Barn, a famous climbers’ dossing-place in Great Langdale, Cumbria. Handy for The Old Dungeon Gill hotel and its famous bar. In December 2009, Harold Drasdo informed me, during a phone call in December 2009, he’d just had a visit from Stevenson; 60 years on and still friends.
    • [19] Healy and Winder got the coveted 2nd ascent of Cornish Rhapsody, that year.
    • [20] Lundy, in The Bristol Channel, UK, was initially pioneered by the Royal Marines and they published the first rock-climbing guide to Lundy.
    • [21] A very popular character, on several scenes, his 3-sided headstone, in County Wicklow, describes him as ‘Mountaineer’ on one side, ‘Poet’ on another and ‘Piper’ on the next.
    • [22] Amongst Europe’s highest cliffs, but no rock worth climbing. Beautiful though.


    Peter Cooper is a Lancastrian-born Yorkshireman living on Inishowen, Donegal (no, there aren’t many of them). He is President of the CCC and Editor of the Donegal guide. Contact: retepcooper-AT-yahoo-DOT-co-DOT-uk .

    Main information sources: IMC Newsletters, Journals and website, CC Journals and website, The Ordinary Route by Harold Drasdo (1997), Rock Climbing in Ireland by Calvin Torrans and Dawson Stelfox (1984), Donegal guidebooks (1962, 1985 and 2002), The Villain:The life of Don Whillans by Jim Perrin (2005) and Climbing in the British Isles edited by W. P. Haskett Smith (1895).

    Additional thanks for time given to: Miss Betty Healy, Harold Drasdo and, the slightly younger, Alan Tees.

Previous Page
1 2 3 4
Next Page

Postal Address

Irish Mountaineering Club
Glendasan
Glendalough
Co. Wicklow
A98 EY91
Ireland

Follow us on Social Media

  • Facebook
  • Instagram

IMC Website

  • Contact Us
  • Introduction
  • Hut