Dave believed his ascent to be the first ascent, later learning of John Dunne's claim.
The route would be three distinct pitches. Pitch two would almost certainly form the meat of the difficulties, but the top pitch might also be tricky, with a few options for where you could go. After abseiling to a big ledge at the top of the main pitch, I re-rigged the rope and continued down. As soon as I was over the lip, I was surprised to find that the whole line was not only obvious but very well chalked. I had enough experience to know that the route had seen attention from someone who really knew what they were doing. Each hold had been carefully cleaned, and every single foot smear had been marked with a tiny dab of chalk. I'd seen that done here and there on boulder problems before, but never for every foothold on a 45-metre mountain pitch like this. […]
On the way back up the rope, I also tried the top pitch. Unlike the one below, it had no chalk, and some of the holds were covered in thick, tough lichen. I spent about four hours scrubbing the whole wall with a wire brush to make the moves possible for me. It was clear this pitch was only a grade or so easier than the one below.
Back home in Glasgow, I made an assumption. Even if the main pitch had been done, whoever had done it had gone a different way for the top pitch since that was still dirty. Most likely, they would have taken the path of least resistance, escaping left after the big ledge. A month passed and I heard nothing in the climbing media or on the grapevine about the route having been done, so I resolved to get on the line I had cleaned. Regardless of whether the main pitch had been climbed or not, the headwall would add distinction and a lot of difficulty to the overall route. […]
Given that tense first meeting with John [Dunne] at Kendal, I was dismayed to learn that the route on Arran was his. After some confusion, I heard John had indeed climbed the exact same line as me, including the final pitch. I doubted this could be correct, since it was so dirty and the main pitch so thoroughly cleaned. But John rang me and asked me to describe in detail where I went, and he told me that was what he had done. He said the top pitch had been dirty, but he had just climbed through it. […] John called the climb The Great Escape. Had the first ascent been mine, I would have called it Macrochiera, after the giant spider crab, since the wall resembled the shape of the crab, with the flake of the crux pitch forming the left pincer. The right pincer is a much harder line and remains unclimbed to this day.
References
[1] Dave MacLeod, 'Moving the Needle', Rare Breed Productions, 2024