... in DOGstycam GULLEY

 

Just as the gulley top got tantalisingly close (about 20 metres away) I ran out of rope.

The so-called 'rock" had led me on for some time looking for runners, through snares and delusions in the form of blind cracks and loose blocks, over too-soft snow, and turf not 100% frozen;- so that the last bit of gear was a long, long, way behind me, somewhere in the vicinity of Loch.

Happily it was moderate ground (solo-ed by many); so I called to Loch to untie the belay and follow me onward.

 

Catstycam Gulley is about 420 metres up the gulley bed.
We had solo-ed the first half, but then put the rope on as the valley got more distant.

 

Loch's response to my call "Are you moving ?" was "Stray Dog" -- which is not a recognised Climbing Call.

It transpired that Loch had been approached by a large brown labrador, slipping wildly and with a worried look, followed by a junior member of Fred Karno's Army in a similar state.

Fred Junior, suggested that
(a) the labrador could be tied to Loch, and that
(b) Fred himself should move ahead, so that he could haul himself up the rope hand over hand if he got stuck. Loch said later that he found this to be "socially delicate".

 

Fifty metres ahead, my ankles were getting tired and I could see a promising spike not far away.

I set forth my philosophy that a Second's primary duty lies towards his Leader, and not  to any passing mongrel. (Or the Labrador for that matter). Eventually, we all ended up on the top of Catsycam.

 

I didn't take a photo of the dog.

ANDREW