TWO PAIRS OF FEET quickly clapped across sunlit slate flagstones and swerved through a whitewashed gate, accompanied by the sound of teenage boys chattering about the great adventure on which they were about to embark. Coiled over the shoulder of one was a washing line ‘borrowed’ from the yard, unbeknownst to their mother. It wasn’t the first time this dubiously thin cord had been pressed into service as a makeshift climbing rope, a lifeline securing them together as they scrambled around on rock outcrops close to their Keswick home. Emboldened with success, they now set out for the precipitous mountain crags of Pillar Rock, home to some of the longest and steepest climbs in England.
After a long, hot walk over the fells, they finally reached the base of this enormous cliff, sweaty and breathing heavily from the approach. Undeterred by the tower of rock looming over them, they began to tie the washing line round their waists. A shout rang out, echoing around the crags. They were not the only climbing party there that day. A small group of men
