Winter in Wales - Glydr Fawr and Crib Goch

There's an old adgage that I've stuck by all through my time in the outdoors, one my father told me. "Any fool can rough it, but it takes a skilled man to make himself comfortable in any situation." This has resonated with me; where others will take only the bare essentials and suffer the consequences, I've been happier to carry a little extra weight for a lot of extra comfort.

However, there are times when even the most prepared man has to rough it. I had to do it, in driving horizontal sleet on Glydr Fawr. In winter. Boy was I roughing it.

The storm that the UK's been suffering for several months showed it's teeth whilst we were there - on our first day we started out on a bleak, damp midwinter's day which quickly developed into the worst conditions I've ever experienced on a mountain. Horizontal, 45 mile an hour driven sleet, rain and hail greeted us in different stages. The wind was just about bearable, but me and Charlie are both 100+kg and it was giving us difficulties, especially on the higher slopes. Whilst it didn't make the ascent any fun per se, it did make it a challenge. Even putting crampons on was sketchy, as everything threatened to get blown over the ridge line at a moment's notice. It was even windy enough to affect the outcome of an HDR shot I took of the mountain.

After we crossed the snowline (which was only around 200m below the summit) the ascent got nice and fun.
With crampons on we tramped up the approach slope, careful to give a wide berth to the cornice sat in the nearby saddle. It wasn't technical, it wasn't difficult but it felt fun to front-point up the last of the slope, haul myself up onto the summit ridge and then tramp the last few hundred meters up to the summit.

The decision on the summit was that we really didn't want to hang around - when you have to bellow to be heard and can barely open your eyes because you've got vicious winds being driven at you, you don't want to hang around on the most exposed bit of mountain. Not to mention we were both soaked to the skin having forgotten to bring waterproof trousers. We thought we'd make a swift descent to the car, dry socks and warmth. Charlie, being more sure on his feet than me in the deep powder snow we were encountering trotted down rapidly, whilst I took the slow, steady 'plunge step' approach.

All in all, though, it only took us 3 hours to go up and down a 1001m mountain - a massive improvement on my pace from Scotland, which is a positive. However we were absolutely drenched - I had pools of water in my boots and I stretched my softshell trousers beyond their elastic limit - they went all baggy! I'll tell you something for free - the drying room at the hostel was very well used that night, and I was very, very thankful we decided to stay in a hostel rather than camp. We'd have had a mare of a time if we'd done that...

Day 2 was to be a winter repeat of a route we'd done the last time we were here - the Crib Goch route up Snowdon. Whilst you might say what's the point, it's something you've already done, it's a totally different undertaking when covered by a thick blanket of snow and blasted by icy winter winds. Especially when that snow is poor condition, thick, deep and exhausting. Much of it was the same, yes - but much of it was different, and it was an interesting approach. It took longer than last time, and we had some whiteout, which was an interesting experience. Everything just dissappears and you lose all perspective of distance, space or even direction - thankfully I had a massive yellow lump to follow who knew the ridge and the line we had to take. At least there was one of us...


The walk off Snowdon, however, was the most difficult bit of the day. The snow was terrible - incredibly deep and seemingly hollow underneath - me and Charlie both repeatedly fell into the snow up to our crotches, but only one leg at a time, so the other would fold comically underneath us as we struggled to use our axe and hands to stand up. I even snagged some pleasant holes in my softshells, including putting my front points through the back of my knee, which wasn't too much fun. It's just another thing to buy, I guess...

All in all though, this trip was more a battle with poor conditions and exhaustion than a technical challenge, orfun per se. But hey, you've got to have the bad days to make the good ones worth it. Hopefully a period of calm some time in the next month or so will allow us to have some fun before this winter season ends. Having said that though, a good portion of me is excited for a summer's climbing. I graduate university in May, and after that all I have to do for summer is find a job and climb.

It's all gone Welsh! - Snowdonia Challenge

What's this? Mountains? On a blog about mountaineering!?

Believe it folks, because I have just returned from a well-needed trip to Snowdonia National Park in North Wales to climb some rather pretty mountains in support of a very deserving charity. I spent four days in Llanberis, North Wales going up and down those lovely rocky land-pimples - this post is long and wordy, but it's my first time on mountains in well over a year and a half, so be prepared for some gushing!

The week was intended as preperation for the University of Westminster International Development Society's annual fundraiser events. Last year they climbed Mount Kilimanjaro, this year it's the Great Wall of China and Machu Picchu, for which this was the warm up. Some of the guys I was climbing with were total outdoors virgins - others were veterans of the Kili expedition, so there was an interesting mix of experience. But for once it was nice to be the one with the knowledge!

After getting picked up from East Croydon, suffering a 6 hour minibus journey to Snowdonia, settling into our (opulent) house and having to struggle my way through a delicious Carbonara at The Heights pub (always worth a visit when you're in the area) it was time to hit the mountains.

Note: I apologise for the odd variety in photo quality, they are sourced from different people who were there!

Day One - Mel Creghern and Snowdon

Taking full advantage of a very brief break in the clouds

The first day of our trip was the meat of our excursion - getting Snowdon done and dusted before people got too tired or bored. Being the second-most experienced mountaineer (behind James, the ex-Army leader of the expedition) and the one with the best knees I was nominated as pathfinder and armed with my trusty OS map (of which our route, of course, was across sheets) and Silva compass, we set off from Llanbris at approximately 10.45am, heading accross the valley side to the YHA Snowdonia Ranger hostel. Progress was slow, mainly due to the fact that the majority of the group was inexperienced, but by midday we had made the junction with the ridgeway path over Moel Creghern where we made our first 'peak' of the day. In the lee of the wind we enjoyed lunch before donning windproofs and heading out for the second (and meatiest) part of our day.

The plan was to descend from Moel Creghern and meet up with the Snowdon Ranger Path, take that up and then return on the Llanberis path. However, after getting into the meat of the Ranger path going slowed to an almost crawl, with some of the weaker members of the group struggling over the slightly more technical route that now involved short scrambles and lots of demoralising switchbacks - progress was limited to a few hundred feet at a time before having to stop to avoid the group straggling out too much. It was at this point that the decision was made that when we met with the Llanberis path some of the struggling members would be led down by James whilst I would take the rest on to take the summit - to say I was proud to be given the responsibility to get these guys to the summit would be an understatement, I was positively jumping!

Looking down over the ridge...only a 400m fall  

Even so, by 1500 we were at the top of the scramble section and onto Snowdon's secondary slope, a much easier walk and the struggling members were catching up. However, we now faced a new challenge: cloud.

It had always been hanging around the peak, but as we were behind schedule the cool early-evening air was drawing the cloud lower and had covered the last 400m of slope. I got the group together, briefed everyone on the importance of staying together, appointed two trusted back markers (Jason and Meg, both Killimanjaro veterans) and set on.

Eventually we reached the ridgeline that leads to Snowdon's summit and the pace at the front picked up - now there was pretty much no risk of anyone getting lost (seriously, you've got to actually try to get lost on that summit path) I struck out to try and make it to the top first. Also those who had said they may return down had decided to strike out for the summit - Dig Deep hoodies littered the Summit path. However, within a couple of hundred meters of the summit I heard an emergency whistle and a yell of 'Man Down'. As the de-facto leader of the expedition my heart stopped and I raced back down, only to find my back markers happily smiling. Turns out they had been yelling 'Mandem' to try and get my attention. Crisis averted - well, no crisis in the first place.

Soon we were at the summit, trying in vain to enjoy the views of nothingness and cloud, but the achievement was still something special. Wind blasted us (even leaving me with some vicious wind burn) and everything we had was covered in milldew from the cloud we were in, but we'd made it, and all of us were there together.

The route down wasn't such fun - the descent phase of a climb is always the hardest and the most energy-sapping, with a never-ending west-facing slope that eventually leads to flat valley roads, so you're never quite off your knees. Even so we were extremely pleased to find a small cafe just outside Llanberis village that provided hearty Welsh cider and confectionary to rejuvenate sapped strength, and even offered us a mascot for our charity. When James arrived half an hour after the lead group he greeted the proprietor as an old friend. The place is really something special - he supports many of the good causes that come around and even has rooms that he lets out, sometimes for free if you're running away from trouble. It's a proper refuge, if you're a climber or not.

Anyway, that was the end of our first day's climbing in Wales - the next promised to be much more fun. Just how much of a challenge was left to be seen...

Day Two - Y Garn and Elidir Fawr

Y Garn

The second day was set to be a much harder affair - having lost most of the people who just wanted to come to 'claim' Snowdon, we were left with a much smaller group, mainly made up of Killimajaro veterans and people keen to learn - and learn we all did! Despite being held up (again, there was a trend here) by Muaz, we all eventually made it to the debus point for the two-mile walk-in to the bottom of our first ascent, to the equally beautiful and tough Y Garn, part of the Glyderau range that dominates the northern end of Snowdonia national park.

Enjoying a light spot of G1 scrambling before lunch is extremely
good for you. View was nice too.

The initial ascent was extremely steep - some of the steepest non-technical walking I've done, and was slow and taxing on thighs that still smarted a little from Snowdon but the scramble after it was more than worth it. Almost 300m ascent of nice, flowing easy-grade scramble was a perfect way to kick off the day, and what was even better was off the 'beaten track' down the centre were more challenging holds and climbs - climbs which I lapped up. What was even nicer was that the little Californian Killi vet Jason had also climbed and scrambled before, so we were able to bounce some interesting ideas off one another. Pushing myself that little bit harder I really enjoyed the route and was almost sad when we reached the 'flat' section that marked the end of the scrambling. However, there were still two peaks to claim that day, so progress had to be made!

At the top of the scramble we stopped for lunch, at which point the cloud started to descend upon us and reduced visibility once more. Our ascent took us up to the edge of the Devil's Appendix, turning North West as we hit Llyn y Cwn. The weather cleared briefly for a moment and we got some fantastic team photos, as well as a couple of stops to fill water bottles with sweet-tasting mountain water. The weather had been especially cold in Snowdonia until very recently and there was still large amounts of snow left in places, including a fascinating cave-like structure that bridged the stream we were following up.

Anyway, after what seemed like hours of walking, several false peaks and ridges and two bars of Kendal Mint Cake (got to love that minty stuff) we made the top of Y Garn, and with a short scramble over some loose rock I maintained my 100% record for hitting the actual summit of every mountain I've ever attempted.

After this came the walk towards the horseshoe and the northern edge of the Glyderau range, where the group faced a moment of crisis - to carry on, into worsening weather and visibility towards Elidir Fawr or to turn back and head home. As the only truly keen mountaineer in the group I wanted to continue, but it was only until Barbora (who I row and study with) came forward to partner me that I was able to strike on.

Elidir Fawr
Having split with the main group on the Eastern ridge me and Barbora headed out towards Elidir Fawr, the second-highest of the four peaks we would climb on this trip. As we got closer the weather closed in further and the cloud got thicker and thicker and visibility dropped to around 10 meters, so communication got difficult and progress slowed as we lost the paths ahead and navigation landmarks. It became a matter of just plugging on with a little bit of faith and a little bit of hope that we could actually make the mountain top.

Barbora disappearing into the mist on Glyderau
ridge

Much of the route was simple-grade scrambles but the weather conditions and lack of visibility made them far more challenging than they would have been on a better day. As such, there isn't a huge amount I can tell you - visibility was so bad that I kept second-guessing my own navigation, despite it eventually putting us spot on the summit almost leading me at two points to give up and turn back - I didn't even know if I was on the correct ridge line without any reference points. I kept trying to get the GPS on my phone to kick in but signal was low, so it was a matter of just keeping on heading upwards, trying to avoid falling over the ridge edge and slipping down into the Horseshoe.

Eventually though, after a not insignificant amount of trial-and-error, we found ourselves on the top of Elidir Fawr, facing sheeting wind and driving rain but having successfully made the fourth peak of our trip.

Me and Barbora, relatively damp atop Elidir Fawr

Next came the down part - and this wasn't simple. The original plan had been to turn back on ourselves and descend the way we came up, but in mind of the weather conditions and the nature of the approach route we'd taken and the difficulty navigating in the cloud, we came to the decision to just follow the western path that should have led down into Nant Peris and home.
However, all was not that simple. Approximately halfway down the path simply disappeared at an unmarked fence line and we were forced to call upon basic navigation techniques to find a stream, follow it down the mountain (on an extremely steep descent that left me with a pair of extremely painful knees) to where we thought it would meet with a larger river that would eventually flow into the Lake. The logic was sound but what we eventually found ourselves faced with was a complex array of fences and dry-stone walls and extremely marshy terrain that soaked through waterproof boots and involved some not-quite-so legal acts of minor trespass, and also some falling.

Eventually though we made it to Nant Peris where me and Barbora, both sufficiently tired to almost not make it into the minibus were collected and bundled off to showers and hot food provided by my ever-helpful housemates.


All in all, this trip couldn't have come at a better time - it's shown me where my technique is weak, has allowed me to blow out some of the cobwebs and try out some of my new kit that hasn't been used in anger as yet - the one thing that this experience has confirmed for me is that it's worth spending money on kit, because save for when I fell into a bog I stayed warm and dry the entire time.

So thanks for reading, come back soon for more, and don't forget to Dig Deep for Dig Deep and support such a fantastic cause!

It's all gone quiet...

Hey gang, sorry things have been quite quiet on here but things have been quiet in life for me too.

This whole univeristy thing is starting to load up as I come to the end of my 2nd year - lots of coursework deadlines and exams coming up so a lot of time is spent buried in books or writing on some of the world's pressing political issues. It's not all that thrilling and definitely not what I'd like to be doing, but I'm paying for it so I might as well do it whilst I'm here.

I've also been trying to spend more quality time with the girlfriend, which I hate to say I have been lacking in of late, so I've been making attempts to catch up in regards to that.

Unfortunately it's all been rather quiet on the climbing front.

However! I do have news of upcoming events that will feature on this site! On the 22nd April I, along with about 20 others am off to North Wales to take part in a 5-peak challenge in Snowdonia as a fundraiser for the Dig Deep charity. They're off to Peru in the summer and the Snowdonia trip is also a training expedition for that to test kit and stamina etc. I'll do a full runup of it closer to the event, and I'll also be using the trip to test a few items of kit, so there may be one or two reviews that rise up as a result of it.

In any case; sorry it's been so quiet, but hopefully after exams everything mountain-related should pick back up a bit so there will finally be something exciting to put up here!