Cust’s Gully

The Lakeland Fells are in great shape for scrambling at the moment. I guess everywhere else is too, for that matter, but up here we normally get so much rain that a whole dry month leaves you quite stunned!

I thought you might be interested in a route I walked yesterday. Stupidly, I forgot the camera but I’ve found one or two web references that give you an idea of what it was like.

The target was Cust’s gully on Great End which features memorably in Wainwrights Guide to the Southern Fells. The attraction was that the old boy had looked at it several times, with obvious longing, but had retreated “with a jeering conscience” and gone home “to write, in capital letters, on page 11 of the Great End chapters : NO WAY FOR WALKERS”. So, it had to be good.

Important Notice On Route Finding: Many walkers mistake Central Gully (the main large central crack in Great End) for Cust’s Gully. Please don’t make that mistake, check the map below to ensure you go via Cust’s Gully, we don’t need any more mountain rescue reports like this, or this.

Approach

We parked in Seathwaite (free) and walked up the right hand side of the beck so we could enjoy the lovely scrambly path by Taylor Gill falls. It was so dry that you could also find some enjoyable rock in the bed of Styhead Gill higher up. From Styhead tarn we took the path up to Esk Hause then, just where the path crosses the beck, turned right onto Great End and climbed up a grassy bank to a small col.

From here we followed a clear path that zig-zags up the ridge (another Band, apparently, like the one on Bow Fell) with terrific views opening up on all sides. At the top, beyond a little grass rake marking the start of Skew Gill, we found things started to get really exciting, with lots of steep rock and not much to guide you – mountaineering territory in fact, just as Wainwright promises. It took a bit of searching to find the entrance to Cust’s gully as these things are surprisingly good at hiding themselves in such situations, I always find.

If anybody else chooses to follows, it’s sort of up (following your nose and some signs of passage) then sort of left into thin air round a broad rocky buttress where few others seem to have been. Eventually though you’ll see the gully towering majestically above you as a steep clean-walled gash floored in green, mossy boulders and sporting a humungous chockstone perched thirty feet or so above the floor.

Route

At first sight, to be honest, it was all rather intimidating but we climbed up and found everything nice and dry and grippy so sat and ate our lunch while we weighed things up.

Wainwright says there’s only one pitch and provides a helpful description and drawing. There’s a sort of stepped ramp on the left, a steeper, slimy-looking wall on the right and a narrow groove in between. Just at the moment, the vegetation see in the picture is completely absent, which probably helped us a lot. We decided in fact that it was more rock climbing than scrambling so roped up and got some nuts ready. I’d thought at first that the ramp would be the way to tackle things but in fact it proved much easier to shimmy up the groove.

When I found I could stand on some convenient (but alarmingly recent) rockfall at the top of this, I had a nut runner in a good crack and was onto the right hand wall in no time at all. Above there was a comfortable stance with another good nut belay and my second (who’s a bit older than me and sports a bad knee, offset by iron determination) was up easily on a tight rope. If we ignored the monster boulder dangling like the sword of Damocles above, we felt a couple of very happy bunnies. Congratulating ourselves we squirmed beneath another, lower chockstone (it’s really a very character-full place indeed) then carried on up the gully.

Just as we were feeling we were home and dry we realised there was a second pitch.

Wainwright had talked categorically about a single pitch, but then what would he know. This one was much shorter but far more awkward than the first, taking the form of a narrow cleft that you needed to bridge your way up. Basically, though, we found we could tackle it in just the same way as the first pitch, placing a runner and belaying at the top (good thread). But if I did it again, I’d take the precaution of removing my rucksack first.

As it was I got myself into all manner of difficulties and ended up climbing backwards! Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to forget the camera after all.

Celebrations at the top were protracted and I may say that we felt very charitably inclined towards Mr W since only an idiot would solo such a route, and he always walked alone.

Now that I’ve done a bit more research I find that Evans rates Cust’s Gully as Grade 2, zero stars. I think this is a bit unkind because I found the whole situation completely absorbing and I recommend it highly. Looking round the web I think there are others would agree with this assessment.

If I did it again I think it would be fun to include Skew Gill in the ascent. Also while, due to time pressure, we scuttled back to Esk Hause then down Ruddy Gill to get ourselves home in time for tea, with better planning it would have been fun to carry on over Broad Crag and then return via the Corridor route.

Escaping Cust’s Gully

If you realise the conditions aren’t right for an attempt on Cust’s Gully, but you’re already at the bottom of it, then there is a fairly easy escape to the top of Great End to avoid a long trudge back down the steep scree slopes you have ascended.

I have outlined it on the map at the top of this page, and it felt fairly obvious at the time.

From the base of the gully, turn right, avoid the second gully line, and skirt around the edge of the rock face until you see an obvious easy route upwards. After you gain a grassy ledge, move to a rocky corner, scramble easily up this onto simple ground, making your way to the top of Great End.

Here are some images to help: