Peaks: Bera Mawr, Garnedd Uchaf, Foel Fras, Drum
Area: Carneddau, Eryri
This spring, I have experienced snowstorms in Tenerife, Croatia, Yorkshire, and now Snowdonia. It started off very nicely as we left early for this run. We were running up to Aber Falls before 8am, always a delightful time of year in these sessile oak woodlands, and at this time in the morning you get it all to yourself. We then headed west, then contoured up the lower slopes of Drosgl picking nice trods and paths every time, gaining height fast. Mist was melting away from the tops and prospects looked good for some nice weather for a change. As Peter emerged onto the Carneddau plateau, the cloud peeled off Moel Wnion behind and Llwytmor ahead. We skirted the top of Drosgl, then ploughed through the remote, shallow, tussocky valley that leads up to the chaotic rocky summit of Bera Mawr. I don't come here often, nor does anybody else, but it gives good entertainment, scrambling up walls and grooves to the true summit on a mini-ridge of rock. Tremendous views across to Llwytmor and Foel Fras with exceptional skyscapes. As we gained the contouring running round the head of Cwm Afon Goch, however, a big black cloud raced in from the Menai Strait. By Yr Aryg, it was cloudy and breezy, then light snow as we gained Garnedd Uchaf, then heavier snow as we joined the main Carneddau motorway to the summit of Foel Fras. The cloud came in and the snow got heavier - all very familiar this spring. Fast running across to Drum, then a real drenching as we ran down the main track (reversing the Foel Fras race route) to the steep tarmac down to Aber (tough, with the Fellsman still very much in my legs). The rain didn't stop until we reached the car: still well before 11am.
Sunday, May 05, 2019
Saturday, May 04, 2019
Penmaenbach climbing
Crag: Penmaenbach, Conwy
Routes: Agent Orange (f5c:led), Jefferson Slab (f5c:sec), Multicultural Slab (f5b:led), Helvic Wriggle (f6a:sec)
Cold and clear this bank holiday, so we headed for an efficient, ultra-brief trip to Conwy, walking to the crag from Sychnant at 4.30pm. I'd never climbed with Peter before, surprisingly, so we began with a couple of easy bolted routes on the upper tier, both of which I've done several times before. Agent Orange is nice, however, and a little steeper than most of the climbs here. A cold northerly blew, but I felt that some newly bolted routes near the main slab, lower down, would give more shelter (and I'd never climbed on this level before and fancied doing something new on this crag where I've done everything else in range). Most of the new routes look very scrappy, but they prove a little better in reality, and I quite enjoyed the slanting, disjointed f5b which takes a series of sloping walls and ledges to gain a vague left-slanting crack which leads to the top much further left. The 6a is a tad overgraded, but starts steeply then has a few technical moves to gain more disjointed wall and ledge action. Not too bad, but we were hungry and keen to enjoy a couple of pints in the Albion, so headed back to Sychnant in glorious crisp, clear evening sunshine: tremendous crystal clear views of the Orme.
Routes: Agent Orange (f5c:led), Jefferson Slab (f5c:sec), Multicultural Slab (f5b:led), Helvic Wriggle (f6a:sec)
Cold and clear this bank holiday, so we headed for an efficient, ultra-brief trip to Conwy, walking to the crag from Sychnant at 4.30pm. I'd never climbed with Peter before, surprisingly, so we began with a couple of easy bolted routes on the upper tier, both of which I've done several times before. Agent Orange is nice, however, and a little steeper than most of the climbs here. A cold northerly blew, but I felt that some newly bolted routes near the main slab, lower down, would give more shelter (and I'd never climbed on this level before and fancied doing something new on this crag where I've done everything else in range). Most of the new routes look very scrappy, but they prove a little better in reality, and I quite enjoyed the slanting, disjointed f5b which takes a series of sloping walls and ledges to gain a vague left-slanting crack which leads to the top much further left. The 6a is a tad overgraded, but starts steeply then has a few technical moves to gain more disjointed wall and ledge action. Not too bad, but we were hungry and keen to enjoy a couple of pints in the Albion, so headed back to Sychnant in glorious crisp, clear evening sunshine: tremendous crystal clear views of the Orme.
Sunday, April 28, 2019
The Fellsman
Race: The Fellsman (61m/12000ft)
Peaks: Ingleborough (724), Whernside (736), Gragareth (627), Green Hill (632), Great Coum (687), Blea Moor (535), Great Knoutberry (672), Dodd Fell (668), Buckden Pike (702), Great Whernside (704)
Area: Yorkshire Dales
Time/Position: 17.30 (89th from 322 starters [221 finishers])
Words like 'legendary' and 'unique' are overused, but tempting in the case of The Fellsman. A memorable outing which takes a beautiful line traversing all the main Yorkshire Dales peaks, most of which were entirely new to me - and with a sense of occasion, place, and history too (first run in 1962). So, very much my cup of tea, and I'd heard a lot about it from Peter and Dave who had both run it in 2015 (the year I ran the Yorkshire Three Peaks on the same day, another 'break' from the London marathon). Perfect timing, given the nature of this year and the fact I failed to qualify for what would have been my 9th London. After a meal at the pub in Threshfield, I slept in the car and we got the last bus to Ingleton at 6.30am after breakfast. The forecast was poor, after a baking-hot Easter weekend, although it was just light drizzle as we set off from Ingleton at 8.30am, up Fell Lane to the claggy top of Ingleborough, perhaps the shapeliest of all the Dales peaks. From here, the route descends the Three Peaks 'staircase', steeply down to Hill Inn via nice limestone scenery. Having done the Three Peaks twice (once on the race four years ago, once as a walker in 1988!) I knew this section in reverse, and I enjoyed the climb up to the day's highpoint of Whernside via Broadrake and a contouring shortcut, still feeling very fresh after a relaxed week saving as much energy as possible for this journey into the unknown. A lovely descent all the way down the ridge of Whernside to High Pike, all the way to West Fell, although the weather closed in with painful hail giving way to rain as we descended down to Kingsdale for the first proper feeding station. After a flapjack, the rain was hammering down for the steep climb up to Gragareth. I felt it might be set in for the day, a dismal prospect, but actually it cleared on top of Gragareth to give wonderful conditions for the next section, which was one of the day's highlights - north along Blakemaye, a broad ridge to climb over Green Hill and then Great Coum. This was tremendous, in shifting mist and strong winds, with wonderful views in all directions: black clouds over some hills, bright sunshine over others. We could see across to the Lancashire coast, and over the Howgills, with Whernside and the rest of the Dales emerging from the clag. Dramatic skies. We were both feeling good, and took the long descent from the hills towards beautiful Dentdale in our stride, even the rocky and awkward Flinter Gill which leads to the cobbled streets of Dent and the end of the first section. It hammered down as we sheltered under the cooking tent, wolfing down cheese pasties, sausages, melons and biscuits. The rain continued for the first of the day's two road sections, which doesn't last long, heading east up Dentdale to Rigg End before joining a steep track round the shoulder of Whernside to gain a beautiful contouring soft grassy track suspended above Dentdale - relaxation and respite - before a tussocky, awkward descent to Little Dale Beck in a tremendous sunburst as the weather began to clear from the west. Things were looking good; we were around halfway, both Peter and I felt good, and we ran off the top of Blea Moor in good spirits. This section had looked arbitrary on the map, but it is actually a brilliant way of taking in all the main summits. A steam train emerged from the tunnel as we dropped down the Dales Way towards Stonehouse: the famous Settle-Carlisle line hugs the hillside here. A long descent, hard running, down the road to Stonehouse and a grand feed including pasta! It was still sunny, but we began to hear rumours of approaching bad weather: a blow to morale, as things looked so promising. The rumours proved correct: it clouded over for the next climb up Hengill Beck to Cross Pits and the steep out-and-back climb to the summit of Great Knoutberry. The cloudbase stayed mercifully high for the tricky section over the featureless moor and bog of Arten Gill down to the road at Redshaw, another famous Fellsman checkpoint. Another big feed, ballast for the bogs of Snaizeholme - deep and cloying - which came next. Above, a gentler section, more respite, as the Ribble Way is joined. Behind, approaching weather - a big black cloud with the wind picking up as we reached Cam High road and the Pennine Way. A violent hailstorm hit - unpleasant at this stage of affairs - and the temperature dropped. We were now in a group of 7 or 8, which was fortunate, as the climb up Dodd Fell is not at all obvious, above the Widdale Valley to the north. A bleak, featureless, hostile summit and a remarkable feat of marshalling in these conditions. The hail eased to sleet, then rain as we made our way down to the road and the legendary Fleet Moss checkpoint. This is 600 metres up, and the weather was at its worst: torrential rain and sleet as we sheltered and put on the rest of our clothes. Everybody was soaking, taking in litres of tea, bean stew and lots more with the tent battered from all sides: memorable stuff. I'd been so optimistic at Stonehouse, but leaving Fleet Moss I was furious: thinking my appalling 2019 weather luck had struck again. I felt fine physically, but knew that the triple combination of rain, wind and darkness would make life very hard for the final section - Peter was not in the best of spirits either. That said, the next section was re-routed down the valley for access reasons, and although it extended things and added a long road section, it had one great benefit today in that we lost height rapidly and gained the shelter of Langstrothdale, where the rain got lighter and the temperatures warmer. Cue improved morale! We passed the hamlet of Oughtershaw then gained the top section of Wharfedale, psychologically crucial as it feels like you're heading home (probably nearly 20 miles away over several peaks, but no matter). Two goosander took flight from the Wharfe. Finally, we gained the new checkpoint at Yockenthwaite (wonderful Norse name), then climbed up towards Middle Tongue, savage at this stage in proceedings but enlivened by a truly wonderful clearance: shafts of sunshine to the west, a rainbow over Hell's Gap. My pleasure at this was short-lived, however, as I'd been following a northerly bearing to the next CP but there was no sign as we emerged onto Yockenthwaite moor, a bleak spot indeed. This was a problem, the biggest navigational issue of the day, and not ideal this far into the race under darkening skies with night approaching. Buckden Pike was clear of cloud across the valley - we still had a very long way to go. Another runner joined us, and thought the CP was hidden in a trough much further left: this was indeed where we eventually found it, more like a mountain marathon CP and a function of the diversion. Peter fell back at this point, as the light faded for the long traverse over the awkward terrain of Cray Moss to Hells Gate, then down the track to Cray as darkness fell. This, for me, is where the event really takes on its special character: it was cold as I dined on soup and coffee, waiting to form a group of four, which is a Fellsman requirement as soon as night falls. It took around 20 minutes for this to happen, and then our group left: it was a good one. I'd run with Saul from Middle Tongue, and we were joined by Sharon and Richard, who both had detailed local knowledge, so we took an excellent weaving path that eventually joined the main route up Buckden Pike. I loved this section: it was magical, with the lights of other teams twinkling distantly in front, and a frieze of stars emerging above as the weather cleared and the temperature dropped. Very fortunate timing. Great views to the lights of Darlington and Teeside to the north from the summit of Buckden. Then good running, still feeling good, down to Starbotton Road, then around and up to Park Rash and the final big feeding checkpoint. Another great climb up Great Whernside, the final peak, via Blackfell top, which was short and sharp. Although I'd enjoyed nearly all of it, I was ready to finish at times during the final descent, which is very long and tussocky in places (and the mist came down unexpectedly again for a while, making life difficult). It was now after midnight, with a hard frost forming in the pools of light from our torches, breath condensing in long plumes. Red beacons mark the checkpoints but it is impossible to judge distance as they appear then disappear depending on terrain. One of our quartet started to suffer, and slowed considerably on the long trek south to Capplestone Gate, and the run for home took on a surreal feel as fatigue sets in. Eventually, we reached the road at Yarnbury, after which the group is allowed to break up; I ran the final section, pushed on by another group of five who caught us up as we slowed, down Moor Lane road to the silent sleeping streets of Grassington and through to the finish at Threshfield school. An excellent chilli, eating staring into space, then a bus trip to the quarry car park and a somewhat uncomfortable second car boot bivouac. Next day dawned clear and sunny, inevitably.
Peaks: Ingleborough (724), Whernside (736), Gragareth (627), Green Hill (632), Great Coum (687), Blea Moor (535), Great Knoutberry (672), Dodd Fell (668), Buckden Pike (702), Great Whernside (704)
Area: Yorkshire Dales
Time/Position: 17.30 (89th from 322 starters [221 finishers])
Words like 'legendary' and 'unique' are overused, but tempting in the case of The Fellsman. A memorable outing which takes a beautiful line traversing all the main Yorkshire Dales peaks, most of which were entirely new to me - and with a sense of occasion, place, and history too (first run in 1962). So, very much my cup of tea, and I'd heard a lot about it from Peter and Dave who had both run it in 2015 (the year I ran the Yorkshire Three Peaks on the same day, another 'break' from the London marathon). Perfect timing, given the nature of this year and the fact I failed to qualify for what would have been my 9th London. After a meal at the pub in Threshfield, I slept in the car and we got the last bus to Ingleton at 6.30am after breakfast. The forecast was poor, after a baking-hot Easter weekend, although it was just light drizzle as we set off from Ingleton at 8.30am, up Fell Lane to the claggy top of Ingleborough, perhaps the shapeliest of all the Dales peaks. From here, the route descends the Three Peaks 'staircase', steeply down to Hill Inn via nice limestone scenery. Having done the Three Peaks twice (once on the race four years ago, once as a walker in 1988!) I knew this section in reverse, and I enjoyed the climb up to the day's highpoint of Whernside via Broadrake and a contouring shortcut, still feeling very fresh after a relaxed week saving as much energy as possible for this journey into the unknown. A lovely descent all the way down the ridge of Whernside to High Pike, all the way to West Fell, although the weather closed in with painful hail giving way to rain as we descended down to Kingsdale for the first proper feeding station. After a flapjack, the rain was hammering down for the steep climb up to Gragareth. I felt it might be set in for the day, a dismal prospect, but actually it cleared on top of Gragareth to give wonderful conditions for the next section, which was one of the day's highlights - north along Blakemaye, a broad ridge to climb over Green Hill and then Great Coum. This was tremendous, in shifting mist and strong winds, with wonderful views in all directions: black clouds over some hills, bright sunshine over others. We could see across to the Lancashire coast, and over the Howgills, with Whernside and the rest of the Dales emerging from the clag. Dramatic skies. We were both feeling good, and took the long descent from the hills towards beautiful Dentdale in our stride, even the rocky and awkward Flinter Gill which leads to the cobbled streets of Dent and the end of the first section. It hammered down as we sheltered under the cooking tent, wolfing down cheese pasties, sausages, melons and biscuits. The rain continued for the first of the day's two road sections, which doesn't last long, heading east up Dentdale to Rigg End before joining a steep track round the shoulder of Whernside to gain a beautiful contouring soft grassy track suspended above Dentdale - relaxation and respite - before a tussocky, awkward descent to Little Dale Beck in a tremendous sunburst as the weather began to clear from the west. Things were looking good; we were around halfway, both Peter and I felt good, and we ran off the top of Blea Moor in good spirits. This section had looked arbitrary on the map, but it is actually a brilliant way of taking in all the main summits. A steam train emerged from the tunnel as we dropped down the Dales Way towards Stonehouse: the famous Settle-Carlisle line hugs the hillside here. A long descent, hard running, down the road to Stonehouse and a grand feed including pasta! It was still sunny, but we began to hear rumours of approaching bad weather: a blow to morale, as things looked so promising. The rumours proved correct: it clouded over for the next climb up Hengill Beck to Cross Pits and the steep out-and-back climb to the summit of Great Knoutberry. The cloudbase stayed mercifully high for the tricky section over the featureless moor and bog of Arten Gill down to the road at Redshaw, another famous Fellsman checkpoint. Another big feed, ballast for the bogs of Snaizeholme - deep and cloying - which came next. Above, a gentler section, more respite, as the Ribble Way is joined. Behind, approaching weather - a big black cloud with the wind picking up as we reached Cam High road and the Pennine Way. A violent hailstorm hit - unpleasant at this stage of affairs - and the temperature dropped. We were now in a group of 7 or 8, which was fortunate, as the climb up Dodd Fell is not at all obvious, above the Widdale Valley to the north. A bleak, featureless, hostile summit and a remarkable feat of marshalling in these conditions. The hail eased to sleet, then rain as we made our way down to the road and the legendary Fleet Moss checkpoint. This is 600 metres up, and the weather was at its worst: torrential rain and sleet as we sheltered and put on the rest of our clothes. Everybody was soaking, taking in litres of tea, bean stew and lots more with the tent battered from all sides: memorable stuff. I'd been so optimistic at Stonehouse, but leaving Fleet Moss I was furious: thinking my appalling 2019 weather luck had struck again. I felt fine physically, but knew that the triple combination of rain, wind and darkness would make life very hard for the final section - Peter was not in the best of spirits either. That said, the next section was re-routed down the valley for access reasons, and although it extended things and added a long road section, it had one great benefit today in that we lost height rapidly and gained the shelter of Langstrothdale, where the rain got lighter and the temperatures warmer. Cue improved morale! We passed the hamlet of Oughtershaw then gained the top section of Wharfedale, psychologically crucial as it feels like you're heading home (probably nearly 20 miles away over several peaks, but no matter). Two goosander took flight from the Wharfe. Finally, we gained the new checkpoint at Yockenthwaite (wonderful Norse name), then climbed up towards Middle Tongue, savage at this stage in proceedings but enlivened by a truly wonderful clearance: shafts of sunshine to the west, a rainbow over Hell's Gap. My pleasure at this was short-lived, however, as I'd been following a northerly bearing to the next CP but there was no sign as we emerged onto Yockenthwaite moor, a bleak spot indeed. This was a problem, the biggest navigational issue of the day, and not ideal this far into the race under darkening skies with night approaching. Buckden Pike was clear of cloud across the valley - we still had a very long way to go. Another runner joined us, and thought the CP was hidden in a trough much further left: this was indeed where we eventually found it, more like a mountain marathon CP and a function of the diversion. Peter fell back at this point, as the light faded for the long traverse over the awkward terrain of Cray Moss to Hells Gate, then down the track to Cray as darkness fell. This, for me, is where the event really takes on its special character: it was cold as I dined on soup and coffee, waiting to form a group of four, which is a Fellsman requirement as soon as night falls. It took around 20 minutes for this to happen, and then our group left: it was a good one. I'd run with Saul from Middle Tongue, and we were joined by Sharon and Richard, who both had detailed local knowledge, so we took an excellent weaving path that eventually joined the main route up Buckden Pike. I loved this section: it was magical, with the lights of other teams twinkling distantly in front, and a frieze of stars emerging above as the weather cleared and the temperature dropped. Very fortunate timing. Great views to the lights of Darlington and Teeside to the north from the summit of Buckden. Then good running, still feeling good, down to Starbotton Road, then around and up to Park Rash and the final big feeding checkpoint. Another great climb up Great Whernside, the final peak, via Blackfell top, which was short and sharp. Although I'd enjoyed nearly all of it, I was ready to finish at times during the final descent, which is very long and tussocky in places (and the mist came down unexpectedly again for a while, making life difficult). It was now after midnight, with a hard frost forming in the pools of light from our torches, breath condensing in long plumes. Red beacons mark the checkpoints but it is impossible to judge distance as they appear then disappear depending on terrain. One of our quartet started to suffer, and slowed considerably on the long trek south to Capplestone Gate, and the run for home took on a surreal feel as fatigue sets in. Eventually, we reached the road at Yarnbury, after which the group is allowed to break up; I ran the final section, pushed on by another group of five who caught us up as we slowed, down Moor Lane road to the silent sleeping streets of Grassington and through to the finish at Threshfield school. An excellent chilli, eating staring into space, then a bus trip to the quarry car park and a somewhat uncomfortable second car boot bivouac. Next day dawned clear and sunny, inevitably.
Monday, April 22, 2019
Moelwyn Traverse
Peaks: Clogwyn Bwlch y Maen, Carnedd Cribau, Cerrig Cochion, Moel Meirch, Ysgafell Wen, Moel Llyn Cwn, Moel Druman, Cnicht
Area: Moelwynion, Eryri
A perfect way to avoid the Bank Holiday hordes while also reccying a crucial Paddy Buckley leg: a nice way to exploit the weather, which has been exceptional this Easter. I parked by Llyn Lockwood and struck straight up the tussocky, trackless hillside towards the Moelwyn ridge as it drops down from Siabod. Virtually nobody ever comes here, but it actually allows for the tops to be gained quickly (as they are all quite low). I have done this route in reverse (from Croesor) but never this way round, and these peaks are probably the least trodden in central Snowdonia - even I have only been up them a handful of times. It was still fairly early, well before 9am, with a low sun and a cooling breeze (which was strong in places). Tremendous views of the Snowdon Horseshoe, and an easy little diversion to Clogwyn Bwlch y Maen. From here, Carnedd Cribau is just off the fence line and has some lovely pools to lend interest to photos of Yr Wyddfa. Then a long haul across empty terrain, rocky and awkward in places, eventually gains the bwlch above Dolwyddelan and the barely detectable peak of Cerrig Cochion, one of the Paddy 47. The next hill, Moel Meirch, is one of the finest spots anywhere in Eryri, and yet I've only been up a couple of times. A mini-Inn Pinn forms the summit, with little outcrops and lakes all around. Below lies Llyn Edno, a beautiful sight in this weather, then a slightly complex route up Ysgafell Wen which leaves the fence line, hugs the lake, then strikes up hard-to-read slopes to a complex summit. The ridge then opens out as the main Moelwynion come into view, with Moelwyn Bach looking very distant from here. This section is all gloriously runnable, although the weather began to cloud over. The ridge kinks left and climbs Moel Druman. I missed Allt Fawr out then scoped out the obvious combination over the higher Moelwyns before plunging into the lumpy and complex terrain between Cwm Orthin and Cnicht. The Paddy route skirts the bottom of the lakes, crossing at Llyn Cwm Foel, a tiny reservoir, before making an intricate ascent of Cnicht - very steep in places, presumably exceptionally arduous if a Llanberis start to the round had been made. I had seen nobody all day, an Easter Monday, so the summit of Cnicht was a shock - over a dozen walkers. I left it quickly for the wonderful, very fast (tailwind) run to Llyn yr Adar. I've swam here in the past - another one of Eryri's finest lakes, high up and quite remote. I ran round the shore to pop through a little col and gain the wonderful path that contours above Llyn Llagi to emerge in Nantmor at the hamlet and tiny lane that runs through this valley. At the sharp bend, where I've pranged the car in the past, I cut north along a track (new to me) that runs parallel to Gwynant but avoids the road and takes a direct line through woods to eventually emerge above the lake. A short section on the main road by the lakeside, then I cut through the Gwynant campsite and eventually joined the old track up the valley (descended on the Snowdonia marathon). I'd only eaten three wagon wheels all day, so was a little depleted on emerging at PyG and Llyn Lockwood.
Area: Moelwynion, Eryri
A perfect way to avoid the Bank Holiday hordes while also reccying a crucial Paddy Buckley leg: a nice way to exploit the weather, which has been exceptional this Easter. I parked by Llyn Lockwood and struck straight up the tussocky, trackless hillside towards the Moelwyn ridge as it drops down from Siabod. Virtually nobody ever comes here, but it actually allows for the tops to be gained quickly (as they are all quite low). I have done this route in reverse (from Croesor) but never this way round, and these peaks are probably the least trodden in central Snowdonia - even I have only been up them a handful of times. It was still fairly early, well before 9am, with a low sun and a cooling breeze (which was strong in places). Tremendous views of the Snowdon Horseshoe, and an easy little diversion to Clogwyn Bwlch y Maen. From here, Carnedd Cribau is just off the fence line and has some lovely pools to lend interest to photos of Yr Wyddfa. Then a long haul across empty terrain, rocky and awkward in places, eventually gains the bwlch above Dolwyddelan and the barely detectable peak of Cerrig Cochion, one of the Paddy 47. The next hill, Moel Meirch, is one of the finest spots anywhere in Eryri, and yet I've only been up a couple of times. A mini-Inn Pinn forms the summit, with little outcrops and lakes all around. Below lies Llyn Edno, a beautiful sight in this weather, then a slightly complex route up Ysgafell Wen which leaves the fence line, hugs the lake, then strikes up hard-to-read slopes to a complex summit. The ridge then opens out as the main Moelwynion come into view, with Moelwyn Bach looking very distant from here. This section is all gloriously runnable, although the weather began to cloud over. The ridge kinks left and climbs Moel Druman. I missed Allt Fawr out then scoped out the obvious combination over the higher Moelwyns before plunging into the lumpy and complex terrain between Cwm Orthin and Cnicht. The Paddy route skirts the bottom of the lakes, crossing at Llyn Cwm Foel, a tiny reservoir, before making an intricate ascent of Cnicht - very steep in places, presumably exceptionally arduous if a Llanberis start to the round had been made. I had seen nobody all day, an Easter Monday, so the summit of Cnicht was a shock - over a dozen walkers. I left it quickly for the wonderful, very fast (tailwind) run to Llyn yr Adar. I've swam here in the past - another one of Eryri's finest lakes, high up and quite remote. I ran round the shore to pop through a little col and gain the wonderful path that contours above Llyn Llagi to emerge in Nantmor at the hamlet and tiny lane that runs through this valley. At the sharp bend, where I've pranged the car in the past, I cut north along a track (new to me) that runs parallel to Gwynant but avoids the road and takes a direct line through woods to eventually emerge above the lake. A short section on the main road by the lakeside, then I cut through the Gwynant campsite and eventually joined the old track up the valley (descended on the Snowdonia marathon). I'd only eaten three wagon wheels all day, so was a little depleted on emerging at PyG and Llyn Lockwood.
Friday, April 19, 2019
Craig y Forwyn
Crag: Craig y Forwyn, Llysfaen
Routes: Lark's a Bumbly (HS 4b:led), Kiwi (VS 4b:sec), Arian (HS 4a:sec), Arian Direct Finish (VS 4c:sec), Route 66 (VS 4c:sec)
A stunning forecast for the entire Easter weekend, but a combination of bad luck and circumstances conspired against me at times. An early start today, but Vic's car was struggling and broke down completely outside Menai Bridge. Several hours on a hot roadside, then recovery, so we tried to salvage a shrivelled husk with a few routes at Craig y Forwyn. I led the juggy HS corner, before Simon led the easy but pleasant VS of Kiwi. Vic arrived and led Arian, up its fun layback crack, before taking the direct finish which is vegetated but good - using a small flake on the right wall at a steepening below the top. Can't recall doing this before (although we'd done all the other routes), and I finished by seconding Route 66 with a big sac on.
Routes: Lark's a Bumbly (HS 4b:led), Kiwi (VS 4b:sec), Arian (HS 4a:sec), Arian Direct Finish (VS 4c:sec), Route 66 (VS 4c:sec)
A stunning forecast for the entire Easter weekend, but a combination of bad luck and circumstances conspired against me at times. An early start today, but Vic's car was struggling and broke down completely outside Menai Bridge. Several hours on a hot roadside, then recovery, so we tried to salvage a shrivelled husk with a few routes at Craig y Forwyn. I led the juggy HS corner, before Simon led the easy but pleasant VS of Kiwi. Vic arrived and led Arian, up its fun layback crack, before taking the direct finish which is vegetated but good - using a small flake on the right wall at a steepening below the top. Can't recall doing this before (although we'd done all the other routes), and I finished by seconding Route 66 with a big sac on.
Thursday, April 18, 2019
Tal y Fan run
Peaks: Tal y Fan
Area: Carneddau, Eryri
An early morning jog in soft April light, as fine weather began to build just in time for the long Easter weekend. Yesterday evening, I ran from Hodeston over the 'three peaks' of Conwy mountain; and slowed the pace a bit this morning, starting from Sychnant and running onto my favourite tracks through the ancient landscape of the northern Carneddau. It is always at its best this time of year, although it was very hazy this morning unfortunately. I felt a little tired, particularly for the final climb to the top, and jogged back at an energy-conserving pace for a bacon bap breakfast before a family walk around Bodnant in perfect spring weather.
Area: Carneddau, Eryri
An early morning jog in soft April light, as fine weather began to build just in time for the long Easter weekend. Yesterday evening, I ran from Hodeston over the 'three peaks' of Conwy mountain; and slowed the pace a bit this morning, starting from Sychnant and running onto my favourite tracks through the ancient landscape of the northern Carneddau. It is always at its best this time of year, although it was very hazy this morning unfortunately. I felt a little tired, particularly for the final climb to the top, and jogged back at an energy-conserving pace for a bacon bap breakfast before a family walk around Bodnant in perfect spring weather.
Saturday, April 13, 2019
Paklenica climbing
Crag: Ovcji Kuk
Routes: Prijatelju Moj (f3+/S:led p.1)
Crag: Klanci (Zighi/Zava)
Routes: Captain Corragiosi (f5b:led), Gripa (f5b:sec), Onaj Tamo! (f5a+:led), Matane ti si Car! (f5c+:sec)
Crag: Kukovi Ispod Vlake
Routes: Nosorog (u4,4-,5-,2,5-,2:led p.1,3,5)
The day we had been waiting for: finally, the weather was kind and Steve had recovered. That said, it was still raining when we woke, almost unbelievably. But by the time we got to the park entrance it was clear the rock was dry, even though the weather was cloudy and some light drizzle was falling. Given all that, we started gently but excellently, with a mild mountaineering route up the centre of the beautifully shaped miniature peak of Ovcji Kuk. It actually takes a series of slabs to the left of the very obvious central crack/chimney line, which is presumably loose or otherwise unpleasant. Instead, Prijatelju Moj is a delightful climb, UK Severe, which is thought-provoking in a few places but generally just lovely, absorbing easy climbing. I led a long 50 metre pitch to a surprisingly small stance on a slab, with the crux coming just before the belay; a steepish pull. Steve then led through, up more slabs to a final steep pull taken on the right via a crack. We had a little drizzle on the route, but it cleared completely as I led a scrambly third pitch to gain the top of Ovcji Kuk, lending the route its mountaineering character. Then came a scrambling descent to the col on the far side, then a path back to the base. A good start. We then wanted to bag Nosorog, but it was rammed with three teams of Germans. No time to waste, so we headed straight up to Klanci where I wanted Steve to experience the joys of good limestone. We crossed the river and headed for the Zighi section, opposite the busiest parts of Klanci and much less polished. Captain Corragiosi gave a wonderful pitch up beautiful sculpted limestone; almost the perfect single-pitch route, 30 metres of varied limestone climbing. First, a steep and technical slab, then a small overhang taken on jugs. Then, a glorious upper wall of wonderfully featured rock, pockets, and giant juggy flakes: limestone climbing at its best, the definition of what I love most and have been lucky to experience in many venues from Provence to the Costa Brava to the Italian Alps (sadly, rare in the UK). The modest grade was irrelevant, and Steve then led a similar but shorter line further left, Gripa, which had some seepage but took walls of concrete-like rock with friezes of small pockets. Brilliant stuff, the sun was out and it was nice to be on this quiet side of the gorge. We switched to the busy side for a few routes on the Zava section we'd already visited. In the dry, it was a different proposition: I enjoyed Onaj Tamo at f5, which was steep then technical - but also very polished. Slightly under-graded, but eclipsed by the 5c+ to its right, which seemed more like 6b+. We then retired for lunch, more burek, and to check-out of our apartment. We returned to even better weather, finally cloudless skies, perfect clarity of light. And Nosorog was free of crowds, which was better still. We geared up and headed to it, just a few minutes from the car. It is a Paklenica classic, taking a wonderfully obvious line up a snaking ridge that marks the entrance to the gorge when you drive in. Perhaps HS 4c in British terms, but bolted throughout and not sustained. I led a long easy first pitch which sidles up grooves and walls on the right-hand side of the ridge line, then Steve continued up the ridge: simple but enjoyable, leading up to a belay below an obvious steepening at a beautiful wall of limestone. This gave a fine pitch, straight up the front of the wall on good holds at VS, then sidling leftwards on a traverse across a series of spikes and pinnacles. Steve's 4th was easy but intriguing, up the ridge, then a downclimb to avoid the top of the obvious giant gendarme which is its key feature. A tiny col provides a nice belay spot, while the final pitch heads straight up the front of the ridge, which becomes much steeper. A wall of lovely limestone with some delicate climbing on small holds, leads to an easier section, before a final wall builds up to a small overhang right at the top. All easy but beautiful climbing. The descent is intricate, a short scramble to a double traverse following small cairns and long ledges - fantastic views of the main gorge in bright sunshine - to eventually gain tiresome scree back to the car. That was that, sadly, so we drove down to Zadar for a walk round the walls and coastal promenade in perfect spring weather, before flying home later that evening.
Routes: Prijatelju Moj (f3+/S:led p.1)
Crag: Klanci (Zighi/Zava)
Routes: Captain Corragiosi (f5b:led), Gripa (f5b:sec), Onaj Tamo! (f5a+:led), Matane ti si Car! (f5c+:sec)
Crag: Kukovi Ispod Vlake
Routes: Nosorog (u4,4-,5-,2,5-,2:led p.1,3,5)
The day we had been waiting for: finally, the weather was kind and Steve had recovered. That said, it was still raining when we woke, almost unbelievably. But by the time we got to the park entrance it was clear the rock was dry, even though the weather was cloudy and some light drizzle was falling. Given all that, we started gently but excellently, with a mild mountaineering route up the centre of the beautifully shaped miniature peak of Ovcji Kuk. It actually takes a series of slabs to the left of the very obvious central crack/chimney line, which is presumably loose or otherwise unpleasant. Instead, Prijatelju Moj is a delightful climb, UK Severe, which is thought-provoking in a few places but generally just lovely, absorbing easy climbing. I led a long 50 metre pitch to a surprisingly small stance on a slab, with the crux coming just before the belay; a steepish pull. Steve then led through, up more slabs to a final steep pull taken on the right via a crack. We had a little drizzle on the route, but it cleared completely as I led a scrambly third pitch to gain the top of Ovcji Kuk, lending the route its mountaineering character. Then came a scrambling descent to the col on the far side, then a path back to the base. A good start. We then wanted to bag Nosorog, but it was rammed with three teams of Germans. No time to waste, so we headed straight up to Klanci where I wanted Steve to experience the joys of good limestone. We crossed the river and headed for the Zighi section, opposite the busiest parts of Klanci and much less polished. Captain Corragiosi gave a wonderful pitch up beautiful sculpted limestone; almost the perfect single-pitch route, 30 metres of varied limestone climbing. First, a steep and technical slab, then a small overhang taken on jugs. Then, a glorious upper wall of wonderfully featured rock, pockets, and giant juggy flakes: limestone climbing at its best, the definition of what I love most and have been lucky to experience in many venues from Provence to the Costa Brava to the Italian Alps (sadly, rare in the UK). The modest grade was irrelevant, and Steve then led a similar but shorter line further left, Gripa, which had some seepage but took walls of concrete-like rock with friezes of small pockets. Brilliant stuff, the sun was out and it was nice to be on this quiet side of the gorge. We switched to the busy side for a few routes on the Zava section we'd already visited. In the dry, it was a different proposition: I enjoyed Onaj Tamo at f5, which was steep then technical - but also very polished. Slightly under-graded, but eclipsed by the 5c+ to its right, which seemed more like 6b+. We then retired for lunch, more burek, and to check-out of our apartment. We returned to even better weather, finally cloudless skies, perfect clarity of light. And Nosorog was free of crowds, which was better still. We geared up and headed to it, just a few minutes from the car. It is a Paklenica classic, taking a wonderfully obvious line up a snaking ridge that marks the entrance to the gorge when you drive in. Perhaps HS 4c in British terms, but bolted throughout and not sustained. I led a long easy first pitch which sidles up grooves and walls on the right-hand side of the ridge line, then Steve continued up the ridge: simple but enjoyable, leading up to a belay below an obvious steepening at a beautiful wall of limestone. This gave a fine pitch, straight up the front of the wall on good holds at VS, then sidling leftwards on a traverse across a series of spikes and pinnacles. Steve's 4th was easy but intriguing, up the ridge, then a downclimb to avoid the top of the obvious giant gendarme which is its key feature. A tiny col provides a nice belay spot, while the final pitch heads straight up the front of the ridge, which becomes much steeper. A wall of lovely limestone with some delicate climbing on small holds, leads to an easier section, before a final wall builds up to a small overhang right at the top. All easy but beautiful climbing. The descent is intricate, a short scramble to a double traverse following small cairns and long ledges - fantastic views of the main gorge in bright sunshine - to eventually gain tiresome scree back to the car. That was that, sadly, so we drove down to Zadar for a walk round the walls and coastal promenade in perfect spring weather, before flying home later that evening.
Friday, April 12, 2019
Velebit loop
Peaks: Babin Kuk (1417m), Crni Vrh (1110m), Anica Kuk (712m)
Area: Paklenica, Croatia
An unconventional, yet fundamentally logical circuit of three very different Paklenica peaks. We woke to the first dry morning of the trip, but Steve wasn't well and needed a day to recover. A change of plan was necessary - and this became a day that vindicates the 'all-rounder' approach I tend to naturally adopt. Within five minutes, I switched from climbing mode to mountaineering mode and packed my bag accordingly. After a hearty breakfast, I set off jogging from the park entrance before 8.30am. It was cloudy, cold, and much windier than it had been: but dry. I managed to maintain a reasonable pace through the gorge, then increase it a bit as the main path levels off as it continues northwards. The high peaks were just coming into view - clagged in, but with a fairly high cloudbase. After the initial disappointment, I was starting to enjoy myself. Nobody was around, and I began to hatch a plan for a mega-day, final training for the Fellsman in a much more congenial and interesting environment! I got to Lugarnica, the first hut, in around an hour - then the main Paklenica hut is a few minutes above. It is in a lovely spot, sheltered in a wooded glade beyond a wooden bridge with a big Croatian flag flying outside. I had a brief chat to the wardens inside, who let me know there was no neve higher up, but that it was forecast to snow today. A small cluster of higher huts dot the hillside above the Dom, then comes open meadows (this route is known as the Lipa Staza, and heads up to Vaganski Vrh). Above, cloud draped the slopes of the highest peaks, an indication of katabatic winds; it was pretty cold at this point and, looking up, I could see my first objective, Babin Kuk, an impressive spire of limestone from this angle, towards the bottom of the spur coming down from the main ridge. I kept up a decent climbing pace, for training reasons, and soon entered the trees - this was atmospheric, completely alone (I saw virtually nobody all day, hardly surprisingly given the conditions). The path was a little tortuous, but generally easy to follow: and my route to the east birfurcated from the Lipa Staza at around 1300m. It weaved round before striking directly up, very steeply in places, to gain the bottom of Babin Kuk. This has a uII scramble up it, quite intricate, the only way up. The bottom was well marked, and I enjoyed the initial steep groove. The problem, however, was the intense cold. I had to take my gloves off for the scramble, and my hands froze immediately. This got worse as the route weaved upwards via another steep groove, before cutting left on good limestone to an old cable. The summit was a hostile place indeed - ferocious katabatic blasts sweeping down from Vaganski Vrh - they were actually 'visible' as ice crystals and light snow swept down the lee slopes leaving a trail of grey vapour. The light snow got a tad heavier and I struggled initially to find the route down, as it's poorly marked from the summit. After a bit of retracing, I found it, and wasted no time downclimbing the grooves back to the trees and getting my gloves on. Painful hot-aches ensued, but I got warm quickly and started up to Liburnija. The headwind was very fierce, however, and the snow got heavier, so not for the first time this spring I was beaten back from high peaks by heavy snow - two weeks ago in subtropical Tenerife, now on the Adriatic coast! The descent went well through the woods, jogging most of the way, and then I decided to see if anybody was around at the Ivancev Dom hut (wooden, atmospheric) that occupies a lovely location above the main hut, looking across to my next objective, Crni Vrh, a fine peak which seemed sensibly lower and sheltered from the winds of the main ridge. It seemed deserted, so I got the map out and began to plan the rest of the day's route (it was midday now), when I was hailed by the eccentric owner in the cod German that is typical of the Balkans. Soon, I was dining on goulash with pasta and bread, Turkish coffee and a very large free shot of homebrewed purest raki. All hot-aches gone! I then dropped down to the main hut and picked up the path that contours Veliki Kuk for Mala Mocila pass and Crni Vrh. The mountain itself is large and complex, the centre of a mini-range of forested spurs, ridges and sub-peaks. The summit looks deceptively close from Babin Kuk and the opposite side of the valley (where I'd been that morning) but it is actually quite distant and complicated to reach. All good though, with delightfully sheltered wooded paths (on one of these I saw a pair of walkers, the only people I saw all day apart from those in the huts). From the Mocila pass, the route kinks north to follow another wooded ridge to the steep final climb to the summit of Crni Vrh. Nowhere near as windy as Babin Kuk, but still cold: and the higher peaks were now quite snowy, with the same ice streamers draping the slopes: a very wintry scene over the leafless Klimenta valley and across to Babin Kuk, this morning's summit, looking pleasingly distant and inaccessible. I jogged back to Mala Mocila, where I looked fruitlessly for a path up the nice-looking ridge and peak of Orlov Kuk. Instead, I headed south along a wonderful high path, suspended above the upper reaches of Velika Paklenica to the abandoned hamlet of Skilijici, and then another, Jurline, surrounded by Alpine meadows: abandoned shacks, barns and gardens. Then it was south through Grabove Doline to finally pick up the junction to Starigrad and Anica Kuk. This is innocuous at first, but then the views open out at a small col: down to the main gorge and across, spectacularly, to Anica Kuk. This is up there with anything in Europe: a stupendous rock peak with the gorge below and Adriatic beyond. The route traverses rock walls to another small col, then begins weaving up the gentler eastern slopes of the peak, characterised by extraordinary shards of limestone, a continual series of jagged pinnacles and walls. This is never technical, but very sharp with continual little drops and wholes: slow and rather painful progress. The summit is a great place, however, poised above the gorge, Starigrad and the sea. A tortuous descent initially, then fast running back down to Paklenica and a tricky river crossing (unusually high after all the rain). Back along the main gorge path with wet feet. A wonderful giant loop: perhaps 9000ft of climbing.
Area: Paklenica, Croatia
An unconventional, yet fundamentally logical circuit of three very different Paklenica peaks. We woke to the first dry morning of the trip, but Steve wasn't well and needed a day to recover. A change of plan was necessary - and this became a day that vindicates the 'all-rounder' approach I tend to naturally adopt. Within five minutes, I switched from climbing mode to mountaineering mode and packed my bag accordingly. After a hearty breakfast, I set off jogging from the park entrance before 8.30am. It was cloudy, cold, and much windier than it had been: but dry. I managed to maintain a reasonable pace through the gorge, then increase it a bit as the main path levels off as it continues northwards. The high peaks were just coming into view - clagged in, but with a fairly high cloudbase. After the initial disappointment, I was starting to enjoy myself. Nobody was around, and I began to hatch a plan for a mega-day, final training for the Fellsman in a much more congenial and interesting environment! I got to Lugarnica, the first hut, in around an hour - then the main Paklenica hut is a few minutes above. It is in a lovely spot, sheltered in a wooded glade beyond a wooden bridge with a big Croatian flag flying outside. I had a brief chat to the wardens inside, who let me know there was no neve higher up, but that it was forecast to snow today. A small cluster of higher huts dot the hillside above the Dom, then comes open meadows (this route is known as the Lipa Staza, and heads up to Vaganski Vrh). Above, cloud draped the slopes of the highest peaks, an indication of katabatic winds; it was pretty cold at this point and, looking up, I could see my first objective, Babin Kuk, an impressive spire of limestone from this angle, towards the bottom of the spur coming down from the main ridge. I kept up a decent climbing pace, for training reasons, and soon entered the trees - this was atmospheric, completely alone (I saw virtually nobody all day, hardly surprisingly given the conditions). The path was a little tortuous, but generally easy to follow: and my route to the east birfurcated from the Lipa Staza at around 1300m. It weaved round before striking directly up, very steeply in places, to gain the bottom of Babin Kuk. This has a uII scramble up it, quite intricate, the only way up. The bottom was well marked, and I enjoyed the initial steep groove. The problem, however, was the intense cold. I had to take my gloves off for the scramble, and my hands froze immediately. This got worse as the route weaved upwards via another steep groove, before cutting left on good limestone to an old cable. The summit was a hostile place indeed - ferocious katabatic blasts sweeping down from Vaganski Vrh - they were actually 'visible' as ice crystals and light snow swept down the lee slopes leaving a trail of grey vapour. The light snow got a tad heavier and I struggled initially to find the route down, as it's poorly marked from the summit. After a bit of retracing, I found it, and wasted no time downclimbing the grooves back to the trees and getting my gloves on. Painful hot-aches ensued, but I got warm quickly and started up to Liburnija. The headwind was very fierce, however, and the snow got heavier, so not for the first time this spring I was beaten back from high peaks by heavy snow - two weeks ago in subtropical Tenerife, now on the Adriatic coast! The descent went well through the woods, jogging most of the way, and then I decided to see if anybody was around at the Ivancev Dom hut (wooden, atmospheric) that occupies a lovely location above the main hut, looking across to my next objective, Crni Vrh, a fine peak which seemed sensibly lower and sheltered from the winds of the main ridge. It seemed deserted, so I got the map out and began to plan the rest of the day's route (it was midday now), when I was hailed by the eccentric owner in the cod German that is typical of the Balkans. Soon, I was dining on goulash with pasta and bread, Turkish coffee and a very large free shot of homebrewed purest raki. All hot-aches gone! I then dropped down to the main hut and picked up the path that contours Veliki Kuk for Mala Mocila pass and Crni Vrh. The mountain itself is large and complex, the centre of a mini-range of forested spurs, ridges and sub-peaks. The summit looks deceptively close from Babin Kuk and the opposite side of the valley (where I'd been that morning) but it is actually quite distant and complicated to reach. All good though, with delightfully sheltered wooded paths (on one of these I saw a pair of walkers, the only people I saw all day apart from those in the huts). From the Mocila pass, the route kinks north to follow another wooded ridge to the steep final climb to the summit of Crni Vrh. Nowhere near as windy as Babin Kuk, but still cold: and the higher peaks were now quite snowy, with the same ice streamers draping the slopes: a very wintry scene over the leafless Klimenta valley and across to Babin Kuk, this morning's summit, looking pleasingly distant and inaccessible. I jogged back to Mala Mocila, where I looked fruitlessly for a path up the nice-looking ridge and peak of Orlov Kuk. Instead, I headed south along a wonderful high path, suspended above the upper reaches of Velika Paklenica to the abandoned hamlet of Skilijici, and then another, Jurline, surrounded by Alpine meadows: abandoned shacks, barns and gardens. Then it was south through Grabove Doline to finally pick up the junction to Starigrad and Anica Kuk. This is innocuous at first, but then the views open out at a small col: down to the main gorge and across, spectacularly, to Anica Kuk. This is up there with anything in Europe: a stupendous rock peak with the gorge below and Adriatic beyond. The route traverses rock walls to another small col, then begins weaving up the gentler eastern slopes of the peak, characterised by extraordinary shards of limestone, a continual series of jagged pinnacles and walls. This is never technical, but very sharp with continual little drops and wholes: slow and rather painful progress. The summit is a great place, however, poised above the gorge, Starigrad and the sea. A tortuous descent initially, then fast running back down to Paklenica and a tricky river crossing (unusually high after all the rain). Back along the main gorge path with wet feet. A wonderful giant loop: perhaps 9000ft of climbing.
Thursday, April 11, 2019
Pasji Klanac
Peaks: Pasji Klanac (794m)
Area: Velebit West, Croatia
Although a little tired, I felt short-changed after such a weather-affected day, so headed up the tiny road that runs through Starigrad up into the Velebit peaks that lie to the west of Velika Paklenica and the main park entrance. It was late afternoon, and completely deserted, as I headed up (in a 4WD Duster!) past the hamlet of Milovci-Bristovac: the weather was cold, overcast but dry at last. After the rain, the limestone landscape, strips of cloud and low orange light over the Adriatic made for a very distinctive ambience. I drove to a likely spot near Vaganac and picked a peak at random - which turned out to be Pasji Klanac, a double-headed limestone spire that was very steep when approached from below. The main challenge initially was finding a way through the maquis, although a few tiny cairns helped at first. Above, as I approached the summit dome, these petered out and it felt like a first ascent. A frontal assault was impossible solo, climbing territory, but it looked like a ridge lay above. I tried one chimney to get up - too steep - then traversed left and gained the ridge at the col between the two peaks. Then, a delightful catwalk - exactly what I had hoped for - led via some mild scrambling to the small summit. All very satisfying, with a pioneering feel. The views were wonderful. Paklenica itself was still draped in cloud, but nearby summits to the west were clear. In front, a spectacular view over the domes and spires of Veliki Vraganac with Starigrad and the Adriatic below. The low light, after a day of rain, gave tremendous clarity and I could see right out over the islands and peninsulas to the south (Pag, Losinj, Cres and many others). It was utterly silent, not a sound, and nobody else was visible in the entire landscape - a memorable bonus outing, making the most of some very bad weather luck. Excellent grilled mackerel with dalmatian chard and potatoes to refuel in Starigrad later.
Area: Velebit West, Croatia
Although a little tired, I felt short-changed after such a weather-affected day, so headed up the tiny road that runs through Starigrad up into the Velebit peaks that lie to the west of Velika Paklenica and the main park entrance. It was late afternoon, and completely deserted, as I headed up (in a 4WD Duster!) past the hamlet of Milovci-Bristovac: the weather was cold, overcast but dry at last. After the rain, the limestone landscape, strips of cloud and low orange light over the Adriatic made for a very distinctive ambience. I drove to a likely spot near Vaganac and picked a peak at random - which turned out to be Pasji Klanac, a double-headed limestone spire that was very steep when approached from below. The main challenge initially was finding a way through the maquis, although a few tiny cairns helped at first. Above, as I approached the summit dome, these petered out and it felt like a first ascent. A frontal assault was impossible solo, climbing territory, but it looked like a ridge lay above. I tried one chimney to get up - too steep - then traversed left and gained the ridge at the col between the two peaks. Then, a delightful catwalk - exactly what I had hoped for - led via some mild scrambling to the small summit. All very satisfying, with a pioneering feel. The views were wonderful. Paklenica itself was still draped in cloud, but nearby summits to the west were clear. In front, a spectacular view over the domes and spires of Veliki Vraganac with Starigrad and the Adriatic below. The low light, after a day of rain, gave tremendous clarity and I could see right out over the islands and peninsulas to the south (Pag, Losinj, Cres and many others). It was utterly silent, not a sound, and nobody else was visible in the entire landscape - a memorable bonus outing, making the most of some very bad weather luck. Excellent grilled mackerel with dalmatian chard and potatoes to refuel in Starigrad later.
Klanci climbing
Crag: Klanci, Paklenica, Croatia
Routes: Via Normale (f4a:led), Miki Maus (f5a:led), Njofra (f3:led), Husky (f3:led), Petar Pan (f4a:led), Zava (f4b:led), Zajcek (f4c:sec), Cuja ti si Bog i Batina! (f5:sec), Vuga (f4c+:led), Kos (f5b+:sec)
The rain that had started at 11am yesterday continued through the night, and it was still hammering down as we arrived at the park entrance after breakfast this morning. I tried to get some extra sleep in the car, and eventually it eased to light drizzle, so we decided to climb anyway, given the bolts, and just tick some easy routes instead. The detached pillar of Ljuska seemed a sensible place to start, and I led a soaking wet Via Normale, which takes an obvious line up the front of the pillar, no more than 15m, to a tree then a groove: all simple but obviously awkward, as soaking wet very polished limestone tends to be! Further left, at the Veleshit sector, Miki Maus seemed fairly dry, as this steep wall misses the worst of the rain. A few steep wet moves gained drier rock and a juggy crack led to the lower-off; a nice little VS. The rain got heavier, so we dropped the grade again, doing two ultra simple climbs that were soaking throughout. Petar Pan was a tad harder and a tad drier, and after another easing we moved onto to the Zava sector, where I led the eponymous central climb. This is a great route, up a shallow, slabby groove with some wonderful juggy and pocketed holds. There were even a few dry sections! Zajcek, to its left, takes seepage anyway - so was even wetter. While the f5 to its right was thought-provoking in these conditions, but gave more fine pocketed climbing. The rain got heavier again, so we retreated to the apartment for lunch. It eased in the early afternoon, so we returned to Ljuska: this time trying the high slab right of the detached pillar. Vuga seemed the strongest line so I led that. Another excellent pitch, albeit very wet in places. It takes a wall to a broad open groove, almost a shallow chimney, which curves left towards the top but keeps its identity. In these conditions, the route to its right (Kos) seemed desperate - with a smooth and very technical crux up a steep slab with some seepage. This seemed 6a+ or more, despite the grade, and involved a very technical sequence up smears and tiny holds, at least when taken direct. We then crossed the river and I was just about to start another route when the heavens opened and we beat a rapid retreat - very annoying.
Routes: Via Normale (f4a:led), Miki Maus (f5a:led), Njofra (f3:led), Husky (f3:led), Petar Pan (f4a:led), Zava (f4b:led), Zajcek (f4c:sec), Cuja ti si Bog i Batina! (f5:sec), Vuga (f4c+:led), Kos (f5b+:sec)
The rain that had started at 11am yesterday continued through the night, and it was still hammering down as we arrived at the park entrance after breakfast this morning. I tried to get some extra sleep in the car, and eventually it eased to light drizzle, so we decided to climb anyway, given the bolts, and just tick some easy routes instead. The detached pillar of Ljuska seemed a sensible place to start, and I led a soaking wet Via Normale, which takes an obvious line up the front of the pillar, no more than 15m, to a tree then a groove: all simple but obviously awkward, as soaking wet very polished limestone tends to be! Further left, at the Veleshit sector, Miki Maus seemed fairly dry, as this steep wall misses the worst of the rain. A few steep wet moves gained drier rock and a juggy crack led to the lower-off; a nice little VS. The rain got heavier, so we dropped the grade again, doing two ultra simple climbs that were soaking throughout. Petar Pan was a tad harder and a tad drier, and after another easing we moved onto to the Zava sector, where I led the eponymous central climb. This is a great route, up a shallow, slabby groove with some wonderful juggy and pocketed holds. There were even a few dry sections! Zajcek, to its left, takes seepage anyway - so was even wetter. While the f5 to its right was thought-provoking in these conditions, but gave more fine pocketed climbing. The rain got heavier again, so we retreated to the apartment for lunch. It eased in the early afternoon, so we returned to Ljuska: this time trying the high slab right of the detached pillar. Vuga seemed the strongest line so I led that. Another excellent pitch, albeit very wet in places. It takes a wall to a broad open groove, almost a shallow chimney, which curves left towards the top but keeps its identity. In these conditions, the route to its right (Kos) seemed desperate - with a smooth and very technical crux up a steep slab with some seepage. This seemed 6a+ or more, despite the grade, and involved a very technical sequence up smears and tiny holds, at least when taken direct. We then crossed the river and I was just about to start another route when the heavens opened and we beat a rapid retreat - very annoying.
Wednesday, April 10, 2019
Zoljin Kuk
Peaks: Zoljin Kuk (843m)
Area: Klimenta, Paklenica, Croatia
The rain got heavier as we had lunch, and Steve wasn't feeling well. So, fuelled by burek (not for the first time) I headed back to the national park entrance, keen to make the most of it by getting up some peaks, despite the weather. I jogged past the routes we'd done this morning, then up through Velika Paklenica - a huge tourist path heads all the way through the canyon to the hut much further up the valley where the higher Velebit peaks begin. I didn't go that far, however, partly because it was already afternoon but mainly because it was absolutely bucketing down. Instead, I followed the main path up zigzags beside the delightful rushing river, below the mist-draped main crags (I couldn't even see the famous cliffs of Anica Kuk). Eventually, the angle eases and good running leads to a junction of paths. I followed the long leftwards switchbacks which weave up to the famous showcave of Manita Pec (a very long walk for a tourist!). It was absolutely sodden, but the mist parted at times to give superb and atmospheric views north up the valley. Above, the remarkable rock pinnacle of Stup loomed through the mist. The path heads to this, then back right and eventually gains the cave at 600m: this all felt like good training as it was largely runnable. The path to Vidakov Kuk then continues via a short descent and surprisingly steep scramble to gain a much smaller, but still easy to follow, path. This weaves upwards below numerous limestone peaks and heads generally west through dwarf woodland. Eventually, through the gloom, it turns left and heads up Zoljin Kuk - the first main peak on this ridge. A tight gully, soaking wet, with mist spilling into it from above, made for an atmospheric ascent. I enjoyed it, despite the weather, and continued up rocky limestone shelves to gain the sharp top in thick clag. The path continued to Vidakov, but I was soaked and the rain was getting heavier, so retreat down the same route was the only sensible option. The rain did indeed get heavier, but I rather enjoyed the quick running back to Velika Paklenica.
Area: Klimenta, Paklenica, Croatia
The rain got heavier as we had lunch, and Steve wasn't feeling well. So, fuelled by burek (not for the first time) I headed back to the national park entrance, keen to make the most of it by getting up some peaks, despite the weather. I jogged past the routes we'd done this morning, then up through Velika Paklenica - a huge tourist path heads all the way through the canyon to the hut much further up the valley where the higher Velebit peaks begin. I didn't go that far, however, partly because it was already afternoon but mainly because it was absolutely bucketing down. Instead, I followed the main path up zigzags beside the delightful rushing river, below the mist-draped main crags (I couldn't even see the famous cliffs of Anica Kuk). Eventually, the angle eases and good running leads to a junction of paths. I followed the long leftwards switchbacks which weave up to the famous showcave of Manita Pec (a very long walk for a tourist!). It was absolutely sodden, but the mist parted at times to give superb and atmospheric views north up the valley. Above, the remarkable rock pinnacle of Stup loomed through the mist. The path heads to this, then back right and eventually gains the cave at 600m: this all felt like good training as it was largely runnable. The path to Vidakov Kuk then continues via a short descent and surprisingly steep scramble to gain a much smaller, but still easy to follow, path. This weaves upwards below numerous limestone peaks and heads generally west through dwarf woodland. Eventually, through the gloom, it turns left and heads up Zoljin Kuk - the first main peak on this ridge. A tight gully, soaking wet, with mist spilling into it from above, made for an atmospheric ascent. I enjoyed it, despite the weather, and continued up rocky limestone shelves to gain the sharp top in thick clag. The path continued to Vidakov, but I was soaked and the rain was getting heavier, so retreat down the same route was the only sensible option. The rain did indeed get heavier, but I rather enjoyed the quick running back to Velika Paklenica.
Paklenica climbing
Crag: Klanci, Paklenica, Croatia
Routes: Skorpion (f4a:led), Wiener Wurstchen (f5a:led), Marija (f3+:sec), Figa (f5a:led), Nane (f4+:sec)
The forecast was disappointing for this short trip to the world-class venue of Paklenica on the Adriatic coast of Croatia. A real shame, but it was dry last night when we flew into Zadar and remained so first thing this morning. Steve was not in the full bloom of health, but after a quick breakfast in our Starigrad apartment, we headed straight for the park entrance - five minutes away - intent on grabbing something before the rain arrived. It is, essentially, an earthly paradise: a 2km drive from the entrance brings you to the gorge proper, and from there everything is accessible - from high peaks to mountain huts to trail runs to long mountaineering routes to big walls to short technical climbs. Literally everything you could ever wish for; every conceivable shade of the mountain experience. So, shame about the weather! With rain imminent, we got to work on the short 15m routes of Auhe, a neat dome of rock near the entrance. Skorpion was a steep grade 4 with some wonderful juggy holds, and Wiener Wurstchen was similar but harder - a nice route with good moves over two overlaps on sharp limestone. Marija was a strong VD groove line between the two which Steve led. Further right, I jumped on the enjoyable Figa, a longer (20m+) pitch up wonderful pocketed limestone to a higher slab which had some characteristic Paklenica bridging up waterworn tubes of limestone and led to a final groove. The rain got a little heavier, so we nipped up Nane, a parallel 20m line immediately left in the same vein. This was all a tempting aperitif, so it was incredibly frustrating to be rained off. We headed back to the apartment for large slices of burek, and to consider our options.
Routes: Skorpion (f4a:led), Wiener Wurstchen (f5a:led), Marija (f3+:sec), Figa (f5a:led), Nane (f4+:sec)
The forecast was disappointing for this short trip to the world-class venue of Paklenica on the Adriatic coast of Croatia. A real shame, but it was dry last night when we flew into Zadar and remained so first thing this morning. Steve was not in the full bloom of health, but after a quick breakfast in our Starigrad apartment, we headed straight for the park entrance - five minutes away - intent on grabbing something before the rain arrived. It is, essentially, an earthly paradise: a 2km drive from the entrance brings you to the gorge proper, and from there everything is accessible - from high peaks to mountain huts to trail runs to long mountaineering routes to big walls to short technical climbs. Literally everything you could ever wish for; every conceivable shade of the mountain experience. So, shame about the weather! With rain imminent, we got to work on the short 15m routes of Auhe, a neat dome of rock near the entrance. Skorpion was a steep grade 4 with some wonderful juggy holds, and Wiener Wurstchen was similar but harder - a nice route with good moves over two overlaps on sharp limestone. Marija was a strong VD groove line between the two which Steve led. Further right, I jumped on the enjoyable Figa, a longer (20m+) pitch up wonderful pocketed limestone to a higher slab which had some characteristic Paklenica bridging up waterworn tubes of limestone and led to a final groove. The rain got a little heavier, so we nipped up Nane, a parallel 20m line immediately left in the same vein. This was all a tempting aperitif, so it was incredibly frustrating to be rained off. We headed back to the apartment for large slices of burek, and to consider our options.
Monday, April 08, 2019
Glyderau run
Peaks: Elidir Fach, Elidir Fawr, Mynydd Perfedd, Foel Goch
Area: Glyderau, Eryri
If I make a Paddy Buckley attempt this year, and it is an enormous 'if', I plan to start from Llanberis. This would perforce be the first climb, the immense haul also taken by Pedol Peris, and I wanted to refine it as much as possible. I started well outside Llanberis so had a decent lakeside warm-up before taking the zigzag path through the lower quarry to the incline that heads up past Australia. This is very steep but very direct, and joins the open hillside not too far from the top of Elidir Fach. The headwind was strong and cold here, and this continued up Elidir Fawr, where I went to the right end of the summit ridge - numerous thick snow drifts made for soft and tiring progress, but they were intermittent. A helicopter buzzed around the summit continually, which was then engulfed by mist. Good running along the ridge, then staying high for the continuation to Mynydd Perfedd. The clag stayed thick for the haul up a cold Foel Goch, but then cleared as I contoured round to join the Elidir Fawr race route down the ridge on the far side of Cwm Brwynog. This is brilliant, and unsung, and the weather gradually cleared as I descended to give good views across to Elidir, down to Nant Peris and up to Crib Goch. All the way down to Nant, then up through the quarries to Twll Mawr, before descending back to the road for a long warm-down through Llanberis. Just time to nip up and down the simple routes at Lion Rock near Fachwen before lunch.
Area: Glyderau, Eryri
If I make a Paddy Buckley attempt this year, and it is an enormous 'if', I plan to start from Llanberis. This would perforce be the first climb, the immense haul also taken by Pedol Peris, and I wanted to refine it as much as possible. I started well outside Llanberis so had a decent lakeside warm-up before taking the zigzag path through the lower quarry to the incline that heads up past Australia. This is very steep but very direct, and joins the open hillside not too far from the top of Elidir Fach. The headwind was strong and cold here, and this continued up Elidir Fawr, where I went to the right end of the summit ridge - numerous thick snow drifts made for soft and tiring progress, but they were intermittent. A helicopter buzzed around the summit continually, which was then engulfed by mist. Good running along the ridge, then staying high for the continuation to Mynydd Perfedd. The clag stayed thick for the haul up a cold Foel Goch, but then cleared as I contoured round to join the Elidir Fawr race route down the ridge on the far side of Cwm Brwynog. This is brilliant, and unsung, and the weather gradually cleared as I descended to give good views across to Elidir, down to Nant Peris and up to Crib Goch. All the way down to Nant, then up through the quarries to Twll Mawr, before descending back to the road for a long warm-down through Llanberis. Just time to nip up and down the simple routes at Lion Rock near Fachwen before lunch.
Saturday, April 06, 2019
Coledale Horseshoe fell race
Race: Coledale Horseshoe fell race (14k/3200ft/AM)
Peaks: Grisedale Pike, Crag Hill/Eel Crag, Sail, Barrow
Time/Position: 1.44.05 (128th from 313)
It is rather strange how every time I go up to the Lakes for a Medium distance classic horseshoe, the weather is absolutely perfect; but every time I go for a Long, it is dire. This was Medium, so just like Kentmere, Grisedale, Anniversary Waltz, the weather was glorious: a wonderful spring day, with snow on the tops and an invigorating clarity to the air. The North Lakes is just a bit too far for a day trip, but this is what we did: a long drive to Braithwaite. This was just for training and fun, getting close to the allotted 10,000ft climbing for the week, and I took photos all the way round. From Braithwaite lodge, the race pelts down to the village before beginning the brutal and sustained climb up Grisedale Pike. This eases half way up before building to a climax up the final pyramid - the path can be seen for miles around and heads up scree and open rock (and, today, some deep snow patches). I did the Rab mountain marathon in this area a few years ago, but missed the summit of the Pike when bagging various checkpoints, meaning this was a first for me (strange, as it is one of the most notable peaks in the Lakes, with the ascent route obvious from miles around). At the top, I took a few pictures before enjoying the superb descent down snow to the contouring path round, and below, the side of Hopegill Head to the broad pass of Coledale Hause. From here, the climb up Crag Hill (Eel Crag) looks desperately steep but was rather enjoyable, on a mixture of slush, shale and solid rock with some light scrambling. Glorious running over Crag Hill over big snow patches to the rocky, steep and awkward descent along the nice ridge to Sail. I've done this section a few times over the years, first during fresher's week in 1988 when we stayed in Newlands! Another wonderful descent, taking the diagonal path through the valley between Outerside and Causey Pike towards the final climb up Barrow. The grassy final descent back to Braithwaite Lodge seemed familiar from the Rab, but I think that went to Stair instead. Nice food lying down in the sunshine at the finish, before a quick pint in Threlkeld before the drive home.
Peaks: Grisedale Pike, Crag Hill/Eel Crag, Sail, Barrow
Time/Position: 1.44.05 (128th from 313)
It is rather strange how every time I go up to the Lakes for a Medium distance classic horseshoe, the weather is absolutely perfect; but every time I go for a Long, it is dire. This was Medium, so just like Kentmere, Grisedale, Anniversary Waltz, the weather was glorious: a wonderful spring day, with snow on the tops and an invigorating clarity to the air. The North Lakes is just a bit too far for a day trip, but this is what we did: a long drive to Braithwaite. This was just for training and fun, getting close to the allotted 10,000ft climbing for the week, and I took photos all the way round. From Braithwaite lodge, the race pelts down to the village before beginning the brutal and sustained climb up Grisedale Pike. This eases half way up before building to a climax up the final pyramid - the path can be seen for miles around and heads up scree and open rock (and, today, some deep snow patches). I did the Rab mountain marathon in this area a few years ago, but missed the summit of the Pike when bagging various checkpoints, meaning this was a first for me (strange, as it is one of the most notable peaks in the Lakes, with the ascent route obvious from miles around). At the top, I took a few pictures before enjoying the superb descent down snow to the contouring path round, and below, the side of Hopegill Head to the broad pass of Coledale Hause. From here, the climb up Crag Hill (Eel Crag) looks desperately steep but was rather enjoyable, on a mixture of slush, shale and solid rock with some light scrambling. Glorious running over Crag Hill over big snow patches to the rocky, steep and awkward descent along the nice ridge to Sail. I've done this section a few times over the years, first during fresher's week in 1988 when we stayed in Newlands! Another wonderful descent, taking the diagonal path through the valley between Outerside and Causey Pike towards the final climb up Barrow. The grassy final descent back to Braithwaite Lodge seemed familiar from the Rab, but I think that went to Stair instead. Nice food lying down in the sunshine at the finish, before a quick pint in Threlkeld before the drive home.
Monday, April 01, 2019
Snowdon scramble
Peaks: Crib Goch, Garnedd Ugain, Yr Wyddfa
Area: Snowdon, Eryri
A connoisseur's route up Snowdon (AKA my 'alternative horseshoe') from the Dinas Cromlech layby up the tiny path that weaves up below the east flank of Dinas Mot. This gives some decent scrambling up slabby rock, if you look for it, and eventually gains the bottom section of the north ridge of Crib Goch. It all has the distinct advantage of avoiding the crowds and the parking fees. The weather was wonderful (as it had apparently been all last week when I was in Tenerife) but a front was due that afternoon, so it was nice to be able to take advantage by moving quickly first thing in the morning. Perfect views over Cwm Glas and Clogwyn y Person as I climbed, then gained the atmospheric curving north ridge which gains the summit in a great position, looking across to Reade's Route on the main pinnacle. I was last on this ridge in August 2017, descending it on our 3000s run. From the summit, people appear for the first time, despite the day and hour - but the views were perfect, some of the best I've had in dozens of Crib Goch crossings, this is always my favourite time of year. As always, a thoroughly enjoyable crossing, taking the pinnacles direct and running where I could. Over Crib y Ddisgyl by the most direct line - 25 minutes for the entire ridge from Crib Goch (1:20 from the Cromlech car park). I decided to brave the crowds and take in Snowdon, not something I often do outside winter but I thought it would be empty enough on Monday morning. It was packed, so I just touched the trig point and ran flat out to contour the slopes of Garnedd Ugain to the remnants of a cornice at the top of Parsley Fern gully. Here, I relaxed with a snack and took a few luxurious minutes to enjoy the view back across Clogwyn y Person to Crib Goch. I then descended the Cyrn Las ridge - we last came this way after climbing Face Route in incredible conditions at this time of year five or six years ago. It's a nice ridge with a couple of very short scrambling sections - I can remember feeling like we'd 'discovered' it as teenagers in the late 80s, as it didn't feature in any books at that time.
Area: Snowdon, Eryri
A connoisseur's route up Snowdon (AKA my 'alternative horseshoe') from the Dinas Cromlech layby up the tiny path that weaves up below the east flank of Dinas Mot. This gives some decent scrambling up slabby rock, if you look for it, and eventually gains the bottom section of the north ridge of Crib Goch. It all has the distinct advantage of avoiding the crowds and the parking fees. The weather was wonderful (as it had apparently been all last week when I was in Tenerife) but a front was due that afternoon, so it was nice to be able to take advantage by moving quickly first thing in the morning. Perfect views over Cwm Glas and Clogwyn y Person as I climbed, then gained the atmospheric curving north ridge which gains the summit in a great position, looking across to Reade's Route on the main pinnacle. I was last on this ridge in August 2017, descending it on our 3000s run. From the summit, people appear for the first time, despite the day and hour - but the views were perfect, some of the best I've had in dozens of Crib Goch crossings, this is always my favourite time of year. As always, a thoroughly enjoyable crossing, taking the pinnacles direct and running where I could. Over Crib y Ddisgyl by the most direct line - 25 minutes for the entire ridge from Crib Goch (1:20 from the Cromlech car park). I decided to brave the crowds and take in Snowdon, not something I often do outside winter but I thought it would be empty enough on Monday morning. It was packed, so I just touched the trig point and ran flat out to contour the slopes of Garnedd Ugain to the remnants of a cornice at the top of Parsley Fern gully. Here, I relaxed with a snack and took a few luxurious minutes to enjoy the view back across Clogwyn y Person to Crib Goch. I then descended the Cyrn Las ridge - we last came this way after climbing Face Route in incredible conditions at this time of year five or six years ago. It's a nice ridge with a couple of very short scrambling sections - I can remember feeling like we'd 'discovered' it as teenagers in the late 80s, as it didn't feature in any books at that time.
Sunday, March 31, 2019
Hope border league
Race: Hope 5m (Border League race 6)
Time/Position: 30.50 (66th from 327)
The first time in 80 or so league fixtures that I've been able to run to the start from my front door (although I have jogged back from a few). A new course, measured five miles, around roads I know well (but do not generally run on, as they are a bit too busy for me). After a delayed start from Rhos Estyn lane outside Hope, we headed downhill towards Kinnerton, leaving the main road for Bramley Lane then back via the sharp climb up Barrack's Lane. Inevitably, my three seven hour days in the mountains of Tenerife began to bite on the climb, feeling very tired, but I tried to stick with a small group and it went reasonably well by the embarrassing standards of this season - although I was passed by 4 or 5 in the last few metres. A nice relaxing warm-down jog along Sandy Lane in warm spring sunshine, back to my front door.
Time/Position: 30.50 (66th from 327)
The first time in 80 or so league fixtures that I've been able to run to the start from my front door (although I have jogged back from a few). A new course, measured five miles, around roads I know well (but do not generally run on, as they are a bit too busy for me). After a delayed start from Rhos Estyn lane outside Hope, we headed downhill towards Kinnerton, leaving the main road for Bramley Lane then back via the sharp climb up Barrack's Lane. Inevitably, my three seven hour days in the mountains of Tenerife began to bite on the climb, feeling very tired, but I tried to stick with a small group and it went reasonably well by the embarrassing standards of this season - although I was passed by 4 or 5 in the last few metres. A nice relaxing warm-down jog along Sandy Lane in warm spring sunshine, back to my front door.
Friday, March 29, 2019
Pico la Mesa
Peak: Pico de la Mesa (1321m)
Area: Santiago del Teide, Tenerife
The final part of today's triptych, all made up on the hoof as I spied interesting peaks from other mountains - this part of Tenerife must be unique in that respect. From El Molledo, I initially drove over the winding road to Masca, spectacular valleys above the Atlantic, rolling mist, difficult driving. I couldn't find the ridge paths I planned to take, so instead parked comfortably in Santiago and eventually found the path I hoped would lead to Pico la Mesa, a shapely peak with a sharp summit that I'd seen from Guama first thing - the most notable feature of the landscape alongside Risco Blanco. The path led alongside the road to turn left up the obvious side valley cloaked in laurel and pine forest. This was lovely, although I was starting to tire the endemic flora and birdlife (endemic blue tit, endemic chiffchaff, canary) kept me going. I got to the pass (degollada de la mesa) quickly, and then took the much smaller side path along the enjoyable ridge. This curved up through more endemic flora, wonderful throughout, to gain the short rocky ridge leading to the small summit of Pico de la Mesa. This occupies a stunning position directly above Masca and the western valleys: the ground drops away. Sadly, it was misty, although I got a few brief and spectacular clearances, revealing Masca for a few seconds, as well as the Atlantic and the Cabezada ridge. A great way to finish, but that was enough - so I ran flat out all the way to Santiago. Despite the three separate outings, I was still back at the ideal time for lunch, 1pm, and dined on papas arrugadas, mojo, pan con chorizo, and wreckfish with onions and olives. Then there was just time to drive down to sea level for a view of the 800m sea cliffs of Los Gigantes before my evening flight home.
Area: Santiago del Teide, Tenerife
The final part of today's triptych, all made up on the hoof as I spied interesting peaks from other mountains - this part of Tenerife must be unique in that respect. From El Molledo, I initially drove over the winding road to Masca, spectacular valleys above the Atlantic, rolling mist, difficult driving. I couldn't find the ridge paths I planned to take, so instead parked comfortably in Santiago and eventually found the path I hoped would lead to Pico la Mesa, a shapely peak with a sharp summit that I'd seen from Guama first thing - the most notable feature of the landscape alongside Risco Blanco. The path led alongside the road to turn left up the obvious side valley cloaked in laurel and pine forest. This was lovely, although I was starting to tire the endemic flora and birdlife (endemic blue tit, endemic chiffchaff, canary) kept me going. I got to the pass (degollada de la mesa) quickly, and then took the much smaller side path along the enjoyable ridge. This curved up through more endemic flora, wonderful throughout, to gain the short rocky ridge leading to the small summit of Pico de la Mesa. This occupies a stunning position directly above Masca and the western valleys: the ground drops away. Sadly, it was misty, although I got a few brief and spectacular clearances, revealing Masca for a few seconds, as well as the Atlantic and the Cabezada ridge. A great way to finish, but that was enough - so I ran flat out all the way to Santiago. Despite the three separate outings, I was still back at the ideal time for lunch, 1pm, and dined on papas arrugadas, mojo, pan con chorizo, and wreckfish with onions and olives. Then there was just time to drive down to sea level for a view of the 800m sea cliffs of Los Gigantes before my evening flight home.
Risco Blanco
Peaks: Risco (Roque) Blanco/Chimayachi (935m)
Area: El Molledo, Tenerife
Consulting my map after breakfast, I noticed that a path led towards Roque Blanco from El Molledo, a hamlet further up the valley. Roque Blanco, also called Risco Blanco or Chimayachi, was such an eye-catching peak that I really wanted to do it after seeing it from Guama this morning. However, it was also obviously sheer to the south, climbing territory, and not feasible solo. As I drove up the valley, however, I kept looking across and saw obvious weaknesses further north. I parked in El Molledo, the weather clearing beautifully, and set off through the village to the superbly runnable contouring path heading west below Montana Ijada and around a couple of lengthy spurs to the more isolated valley that drops down to the sea very steeply, typical of the spectacular terrain of this part of Western Tenerife. Finally, I got a view of the otherwise hidden Risco Blanco, and although still steep and impressive from this northern side, a reasonable route up seemed very likely as the terrain looked like slabby rock interspersed with vegetation: a classic volcanic shape. The path reaches Casa Quemada, a goat farm, then drops down a well-defined ridge to the base of Risco Blanco. From here, I went straight for a line of weakness up a steep open groove. This gave good scrambling, around grade II, and I then moved out right to the excellent slabby ridge (north-west) which marks the transition between the steep and slabby side of the mountain. I stuck to the rock and it gave a great little route to the summit, which takes the form of a short, narrow ridge in a predictably spectacular position. To the south and west, sheer drops to those wonderful steep, lush valleys plunging down to the Atlantic 1000 metres below, framed by this morning's peaks, particularly Guama, not far away across the valley. Further over, the Cabezada ridge that towers over the famous village of Masca. And inland, my next objective, Pico la Mesa. The sun was still shining, and it all felt like a tremendous bonus, some recompense for the cancellation on Wednesday. To my mild disappointment, I found a tiny path which weaved in and out of the crags and picked an easier, less steep, route down to the base of the roque. From here, I ran all the way back to El Molledo along the traverse path trying to save a little energy for part three of the day.
Area: El Molledo, Tenerife
Consulting my map after breakfast, I noticed that a path led towards Roque Blanco from El Molledo, a hamlet further up the valley. Roque Blanco, also called Risco Blanco or Chimayachi, was such an eye-catching peak that I really wanted to do it after seeing it from Guama this morning. However, it was also obviously sheer to the south, climbing territory, and not feasible solo. As I drove up the valley, however, I kept looking across and saw obvious weaknesses further north. I parked in El Molledo, the weather clearing beautifully, and set off through the village to the superbly runnable contouring path heading west below Montana Ijada and around a couple of lengthy spurs to the more isolated valley that drops down to the sea very steeply, typical of the spectacular terrain of this part of Western Tenerife. Finally, I got a view of the otherwise hidden Risco Blanco, and although still steep and impressive from this northern side, a reasonable route up seemed very likely as the terrain looked like slabby rock interspersed with vegetation: a classic volcanic shape. The path reaches Casa Quemada, a goat farm, then drops down a well-defined ridge to the base of Risco Blanco. From here, I went straight for a line of weakness up a steep open groove. This gave good scrambling, around grade II, and I then moved out right to the excellent slabby ridge (north-west) which marks the transition between the steep and slabby side of the mountain. I stuck to the rock and it gave a great little route to the summit, which takes the form of a short, narrow ridge in a predictably spectacular position. To the south and west, sheer drops to those wonderful steep, lush valleys plunging down to the Atlantic 1000 metres below, framed by this morning's peaks, particularly Guama, not far away across the valley. Further over, the Cabezada ridge that towers over the famous village of Masca. And inland, my next objective, Pico la Mesa. The sun was still shining, and it all felt like a tremendous bonus, some recompense for the cancellation on Wednesday. To my mild disappointment, I found a tiny path which weaved in and out of the crags and picked an easier, less steep, route down to the base of the roque. From here, I ran all the way back to El Molledo along the traverse path trying to save a little energy for part three of the day.
Tamaimo peaks
Peaks: Montana Guama (881m), Pico la Vera (789m)
Area: Tamaimo, Tenerife
My guesthouse in Tamaimo had a roof terrace, from where the village's situation could be properly appreciated: 600 metres directly above the Atlantic in a corridor of steep-sided mountains, the most notable and closest of which was Guama, which rose directly above. So before breakfast, I joined the well-marked path that weaves from the village up the hillside to the north-south ridge above, which is marked by a large cross, Cruz des los Misioneros. This didn't take long at all, running the whole way, although I was feeling the pace after the past two days. Turning south, a smaller path with some mild scrambling continued up the ridge to the summit of Montana Guama (28m), in a great position above the sea and village. It was all a bit grey and cloudy, sadly, but inland my eye was caught by two fine peaks: the first turned out to be Roque Blanco - a fabulous orange spire from this angle, and the second was Pico la Mesa, a much higher peak rising inland. I didn't know anything about either, but changed my plans to try to get up them both. First, though, I ran back to the cross and tried to traverse the ridge to Pico la Vera and Roque del Paso. I must have missed the small path so tried to make my way along the crest. There was no path, and rather too much vegetation - including cacti with painful needles - which was a shame as there was some good scrambling and it was narrow in places. I continued to the first rise of the ridge, probably Pico la Vera, then went back to the col and ran flat out down to my lodgings for some breakfast and a shower. It was still early, so there was plenty of time left for further exploration before my evening flight.
Area: Tamaimo, Tenerife
My guesthouse in Tamaimo had a roof terrace, from where the village's situation could be properly appreciated: 600 metres directly above the Atlantic in a corridor of steep-sided mountains, the most notable and closest of which was Guama, which rose directly above. So before breakfast, I joined the well-marked path that weaves from the village up the hillside to the north-south ridge above, which is marked by a large cross, Cruz des los Misioneros. This didn't take long at all, running the whole way, although I was feeling the pace after the past two days. Turning south, a smaller path with some mild scrambling continued up the ridge to the summit of Montana Guama (28m), in a great position above the sea and village. It was all a bit grey and cloudy, sadly, but inland my eye was caught by two fine peaks: the first turned out to be Roque Blanco - a fabulous orange spire from this angle, and the second was Pico la Mesa, a much higher peak rising inland. I didn't know anything about either, but changed my plans to try to get up them both. First, though, I ran back to the cross and tried to traverse the ridge to Pico la Vera and Roque del Paso. I must have missed the small path so tried to make my way along the crest. There was no path, and rather too much vegetation - including cacti with painful needles - which was a shame as there was some good scrambling and it was narrow in places. I continued to the first rise of the ridge, probably Pico la Vera, then went back to the col and ran flat out down to my lodgings for some breakfast and a shower. It was still early, so there was plenty of time left for further exploration before my evening flight.
Thursday, March 28, 2019
Guajara/Viejo
Peaks: Alto de Guajara (2717m), Unnamed Peak (2464m), Pico Viejo/Mancho Ruana Sur (3008m)
Area: Teide, Tenerife
An unusual and gruelling double climb from the Parador at Roques de Garcia. This was not the plan, but the conditions meant I had to adapt - and it was actually a much harder day, and therefore better training, than if I had started at the hut. Instead, I left Vilaflor at first light and drove up to a deserted Teide in incredible conditions - a hard frost last night, snow higher up, low sun lighting ice crystals on the lava flows. The entire valley was orange, and the sun rose over the shoulder of Guajara, my initial target. I parked at the Parador, deserted at this hour, and trotted over to the path that leads steeply up to the obvious col that gives access to the upper slopes. It traversed through snow (which was icy, vindicating yesterday's decision) below a line of crags, then gained the pass (Degollada de Ucanca) with views down the contrasting, fairly green, Ucanca valley, Guajara is well defended by crags on almost all sides, but a broad couloir through the southern cliffs was clearly the onward route. The path weaved up to it, keeping close to the walls as it moves left into the couloir. The angle then eases as the broad plateau is gained - it is an unusual hill with a huge summit area but crags on all sides, typical of a volcanic peak and very prominent in the landscape, in some ways more impressive than Teide from the valley bottom (and the highest mountain on the island outwith the hulking mound of Teide). The view was genuinely stunning: one of the best views I have ever had anywhere. A circle of white cloud was draped around the mid-slopes of Teide, the clarity of light was perfect, with every detail highlighted. Two Polish walkers lent the view some scale, and we swapped photo duties. To the west, cloud was boiling over the Sombrerito de Chasna and the slopes of Vilaflor. I descended back to the Degollada, then nipped up the obvious unnamed peak (pt 2464m on the map) lying along the ridge to the west of the pass. This gave a nice little scramble to a small summit, obvious from the Parador, with more great views: a tiny cairn on top as well as a vague semblance of a path through the rocky summit suggested the occasional other person comes this way! One option now was to continue to the Sombrerito, which might have been best, but instead I ran down to the Parador for a coffee cortado and pastry. Refuelled, I opted for a mammoth extension, jogging past the tourists on the easterly Roques de Garcia path (these are impressive spires of rock, foregrounding a million Teide photos, and rammed with tourists). I instantly left all tourists behind as soon as I joined the path through the lava flows to Pico Viejo, which is a vague lump on the 'ridge' that runs west from Teide. It was an opportunity to get up high again, although the weather was worsening - with a cold wind - and the route is a dreadful extended slog with little to recommend it. I just ploughed upwards, considering it good training, and entered the clag at 2500m. It weaves through old lava flows but generally heads upwards, although such was the nature of the clag and the vague nature of the 'peak' that it was hard to tell where I was. At the spot marked Mancha Ruana Sur on the map, a 3008m extrusion, I turned round and jogged all the way down just as another heavy snow storm blew up. This turned to sleety rain lower down, and I took the westerly path round Roques de Garcia which descends to the impressive 'Catedral', a huge spire of rock, then climbs back to a tourist peak above the car park. This finished me off, and I headed to the car for a tricky drive through very thick mist which lasted for 35k through Chio to my next guesthouse in Tamaimo, where it finally cleared. I saw virtually nothing for the whole way, which was a shame.
Area: Teide, Tenerife
An unusual and gruelling double climb from the Parador at Roques de Garcia. This was not the plan, but the conditions meant I had to adapt - and it was actually a much harder day, and therefore better training, than if I had started at the hut. Instead, I left Vilaflor at first light and drove up to a deserted Teide in incredible conditions - a hard frost last night, snow higher up, low sun lighting ice crystals on the lava flows. The entire valley was orange, and the sun rose over the shoulder of Guajara, my initial target. I parked at the Parador, deserted at this hour, and trotted over to the path that leads steeply up to the obvious col that gives access to the upper slopes. It traversed through snow (which was icy, vindicating yesterday's decision) below a line of crags, then gained the pass (Degollada de Ucanca) with views down the contrasting, fairly green, Ucanca valley, Guajara is well defended by crags on almost all sides, but a broad couloir through the southern cliffs was clearly the onward route. The path weaved up to it, keeping close to the walls as it moves left into the couloir. The angle then eases as the broad plateau is gained - it is an unusual hill with a huge summit area but crags on all sides, typical of a volcanic peak and very prominent in the landscape, in some ways more impressive than Teide from the valley bottom (and the highest mountain on the island outwith the hulking mound of Teide). The view was genuinely stunning: one of the best views I have ever had anywhere. A circle of white cloud was draped around the mid-slopes of Teide, the clarity of light was perfect, with every detail highlighted. Two Polish walkers lent the view some scale, and we swapped photo duties. To the west, cloud was boiling over the Sombrerito de Chasna and the slopes of Vilaflor. I descended back to the Degollada, then nipped up the obvious unnamed peak (pt 2464m on the map) lying along the ridge to the west of the pass. This gave a nice little scramble to a small summit, obvious from the Parador, with more great views: a tiny cairn on top as well as a vague semblance of a path through the rocky summit suggested the occasional other person comes this way! One option now was to continue to the Sombrerito, which might have been best, but instead I ran down to the Parador for a coffee cortado and pastry. Refuelled, I opted for a mammoth extension, jogging past the tourists on the easterly Roques de Garcia path (these are impressive spires of rock, foregrounding a million Teide photos, and rammed with tourists). I instantly left all tourists behind as soon as I joined the path through the lava flows to Pico Viejo, which is a vague lump on the 'ridge' that runs west from Teide. It was an opportunity to get up high again, although the weather was worsening - with a cold wind - and the route is a dreadful extended slog with little to recommend it. I just ploughed upwards, considering it good training, and entered the clag at 2500m. It weaves through old lava flows but generally heads upwards, although such was the nature of the clag and the vague nature of the 'peak' that it was hard to tell where I was. At the spot marked Mancha Ruana Sur on the map, a 3008m extrusion, I turned round and jogged all the way down just as another heavy snow storm blew up. This turned to sleety rain lower down, and I took the westerly path round Roques de Garcia which descends to the impressive 'Catedral', a huge spire of rock, then climbs back to a tourist peak above the car park. This finished me off, and I headed to the car for a tricky drive through very thick mist which lasted for 35k through Chio to my next guesthouse in Tamaimo, where it finally cleared. I saw virtually nothing for the whole way, which was a shame.
Wednesday, March 27, 2019
Teide blizzard
Peaks: Montana Blanca (2758m)
Area: Teide, Tenerife
After a great morning in the hills, part one of the intricate plan completed, things took a turn for the worse as I ate my Canarian stew in Vilaflor. I received a text from the Altavista hut saying it was closed, as were the paths, and the cable car, due to snow and ice on Teide. A real blow, as this was the main point of the trip. I thought I would try to walk up anyway, although rather tired after the morning, as the text implied the dorms would be open. So I headed up through the pine forests into the extraordinary volcanic landscape of Teide for the first time. The weather improved a tad as I got higher, intermittent sun, high cloud on the peaks, around 4C as I left the car (tricky to park) and began to walk up Montana Blanca under leaden skies with bag packed for the two day expedition via the hut. With a good distance in my legs already, this was a tad tiring, but I jogged most of the easy-angled slopes up the lunar landscape of the utterly bare Blanca slopes - reminded me of the Laugavegur in Iceland. Soon, an ominous steady drizzle began, and this gave way to sleet as I climbed. The odd snow drift appeared. Then, above some long zigzags, the sleet changed to snow - which started to come down very heavily under rapidly darkening skies. At Montana Blanca (just a slight rise on the slopes of Teide), the path upwards was 'closed' - my trail running shoes were working well on the soft snow, but I didn't have any kahtoolas (I had considered packing them but didn't think I'd get them on as hand luggage). I continued upwards in a worsening blizzard to just below 3000m - but at this point had to make a decision. The snow was coming down hard, the path covering over. I would have been able to make the hut, but I was wet, and the temperature suddenly - and quite noticeably - dropped like a stone. The main issue was the strong possibility of ice tomorrow morning - which would have ruled out Teide and the ridge to Viejo. So, with regret, I descended back to the car in very cold weather, intense wind-chill, and drove all the way back down to Vilaflor with the heater on full blast and icy sleet giving way to rain, then sun, as I descended. I managed to bag a cell-like room for a few quid at the classically Spanish Sombrerito in town, and dined on classic Canarian food: goat stew, mojo and papas arragudas. Some compensation at least.
Area: Teide, Tenerife
After a great morning in the hills, part one of the intricate plan completed, things took a turn for the worse as I ate my Canarian stew in Vilaflor. I received a text from the Altavista hut saying it was closed, as were the paths, and the cable car, due to snow and ice on Teide. A real blow, as this was the main point of the trip. I thought I would try to walk up anyway, although rather tired after the morning, as the text implied the dorms would be open. So I headed up through the pine forests into the extraordinary volcanic landscape of Teide for the first time. The weather improved a tad as I got higher, intermittent sun, high cloud on the peaks, around 4C as I left the car (tricky to park) and began to walk up Montana Blanca under leaden skies with bag packed for the two day expedition via the hut. With a good distance in my legs already, this was a tad tiring, but I jogged most of the easy-angled slopes up the lunar landscape of the utterly bare Blanca slopes - reminded me of the Laugavegur in Iceland. Soon, an ominous steady drizzle began, and this gave way to sleet as I climbed. The odd snow drift appeared. Then, above some long zigzags, the sleet changed to snow - which started to come down very heavily under rapidly darkening skies. At Montana Blanca (just a slight rise on the slopes of Teide), the path upwards was 'closed' - my trail running shoes were working well on the soft snow, but I didn't have any kahtoolas (I had considered packing them but didn't think I'd get them on as hand luggage). I continued upwards in a worsening blizzard to just below 3000m - but at this point had to make a decision. The snow was coming down hard, the path covering over. I would have been able to make the hut, but I was wet, and the temperature suddenly - and quite noticeably - dropped like a stone. The main issue was the strong possibility of ice tomorrow morning - which would have ruled out Teide and the ridge to Viejo. So, with regret, I descended back to the car in very cold weather, intense wind-chill, and drove all the way back down to Vilaflor with the heater on full blast and icy sleet giving way to rain, then sun, as I descended. I managed to bag a cell-like room for a few quid at the classically Spanish Sombrerito in town, and dined on classic Canarian food: goat stew, mojo and papas arragudas. Some compensation at least.
Arona three peaks
Peaks: Roque del Conde (1003m), Roque Imoche (1113m), Roque de los Brezos (1115m)
Area: Arona, Tenerife, Canary Islands
A very intensive 72 hours on Tenerife, my first ever visit to the Canary Islands. I'd thought about it as a winter venue for a while, but saw Teide poking through the clouds from my flight to West Africa last November, and pledged to visit as soon as possible. This micro-trip cost less than £50 return from Manchester and was perfect distance/climb training, conceived as such. After a night not too far from the airport, in an isolated finca in the hills above Arona, I drove to the hamlet of Vento at first light - 7am. My plans were all quite specific, with only three days at my disposal, so I set off running towards Roque del Conde with a low sun lighting the entire landscape in a truly beautiful honeyed glow - various cacti species lending the scene a characteristic sub-tropical foreground. All three of these peaks are distinctive, quite different from each other, and all notable features of the southern Tenerife landscape (I could see them from my room in the moonlight last night). It was beautifully clear as I took the contouring path on the Atlantic side of Roque del Conde, before it heads straight up through bands of rock to gain the plateau-like summit - reminded me of South Africa at times. A small flock of canaries as I jogged to the true summit, less than an hour from Vento, feeling fresh, a good start. Stunning views, still before 8am, with Teide dominating, clouds starting to boil up from the Atlantic, and a dramatic contrast between the beautiful interior and the overdeveloped urban coast. A small path, initially hard to find, then allowed for a wonderful traverse through the northern crags of Conde to take a direct line towards Roque Imoque. This was stunning, picking a running line through, cacti and local flora everywhere, with some surprisingly good scrambling, to eventually gain the broad col. From here, the little path joins the main GR131 and heads up towards Roque Imoque: this is a very impressive pyramidal peak, the Matterhorn of the Canaries, with only one real weakness. I decided to try to the obvious eastern ridge, ploughing up through the undergrowth to gain some good scrambling. The summit pyramid was too sheer from this side, though, so I dropped off the ridge and traversed round to eventually pick up a small path from the Brezos col. This follows a shallow spur to gain the weakness on the inland face of Imoque - an easy groove, then two short walls (around grade II) gains a small summit, a wonderful spot with tremendous views on all sides. A fine peak. Then, fast running down the spur to a col with a 'threshing circle' (and a berthelot's pipit!) on it, and a very quick ascent of the final peak, Brezos. This throws down a series of excellent-looking crags to the east and is a double-headed peak. Back to the col, now under cloudier skies, then all the way along the GR131 skirting Imoque and turning north below Roque del Conde back to my car in Vento. Then it was way up into the cold and mist at Vilaflor, the highest village on the island, for a lunch of Canarian chickpea stew.
Area: Arona, Tenerife, Canary Islands
A very intensive 72 hours on Tenerife, my first ever visit to the Canary Islands. I'd thought about it as a winter venue for a while, but saw Teide poking through the clouds from my flight to West Africa last November, and pledged to visit as soon as possible. This micro-trip cost less than £50 return from Manchester and was perfect distance/climb training, conceived as such. After a night not too far from the airport, in an isolated finca in the hills above Arona, I drove to the hamlet of Vento at first light - 7am. My plans were all quite specific, with only three days at my disposal, so I set off running towards Roque del Conde with a low sun lighting the entire landscape in a truly beautiful honeyed glow - various cacti species lending the scene a characteristic sub-tropical foreground. All three of these peaks are distinctive, quite different from each other, and all notable features of the southern Tenerife landscape (I could see them from my room in the moonlight last night). It was beautifully clear as I took the contouring path on the Atlantic side of Roque del Conde, before it heads straight up through bands of rock to gain the plateau-like summit - reminded me of South Africa at times. A small flock of canaries as I jogged to the true summit, less than an hour from Vento, feeling fresh, a good start. Stunning views, still before 8am, with Teide dominating, clouds starting to boil up from the Atlantic, and a dramatic contrast between the beautiful interior and the overdeveloped urban coast. A small path, initially hard to find, then allowed for a wonderful traverse through the northern crags of Conde to take a direct line towards Roque Imoque. This was stunning, picking a running line through, cacti and local flora everywhere, with some surprisingly good scrambling, to eventually gain the broad col. From here, the little path joins the main GR131 and heads up towards Roque Imoque: this is a very impressive pyramidal peak, the Matterhorn of the Canaries, with only one real weakness. I decided to try to the obvious eastern ridge, ploughing up through the undergrowth to gain some good scrambling. The summit pyramid was too sheer from this side, though, so I dropped off the ridge and traversed round to eventually pick up a small path from the Brezos col. This follows a shallow spur to gain the weakness on the inland face of Imoque - an easy groove, then two short walls (around grade II) gains a small summit, a wonderful spot with tremendous views on all sides. A fine peak. Then, fast running down the spur to a col with a 'threshing circle' (and a berthelot's pipit!) on it, and a very quick ascent of the final peak, Brezos. This throws down a series of excellent-looking crags to the east and is a double-headed peak. Back to the col, now under cloudier skies, then all the way along the GR131 skirting Imoque and turning north below Roque del Conde back to my car in Vento. Then it was way up into the cold and mist at Vilaflor, the highest village on the island, for a lunch of Canarian chickpea stew.
Sunday, March 24, 2019
Heptonstall fell race
Race: Heptonstall fell race, Yorkshire (15m+/3200ft/BL)
Time/Position: 2.26.40 (87th from 279)
After enjoying the Haworth Hobble last year, it was nice to have an excuse to return to this area: terra incognita for us to an extent. This was a supremely enjoyable event taken at training pace - in perfect early spring conditions of light cloud, bright sun and a distinctly chilly wind preventing us from over-heating. The climb from Hebden Bridge up to Heptonstall is ingrained in my memory from the Hobble - so it was nice to start on the cobbled streets of Heptonstall itself! A vicar with air horn made it more memorable, as did the early descent down to Colden Clough, then up and round tracks to the 'navigation section' over the moorland of Black Mires to Standing Stone hill - classic Yorkshire scenery - then down via Ling Hollow to the valley (Hebden Dale). After this, a steep climb on tarmac initially north onto the moors again in sunshine and bracing wind. Just after the high point (Greave Height), I turned my ankle, an old weakness, and had to hobble for a while until it righted itself. This is a familiar routine, however, and by the time we had descended to the remote reservoir at Walshaw Dean, it was OK - and I felt good for the gentle climb up to High Rakes/Wadsworth, particularly after a gel. An unfeasibly long descent (didn't seem commensurate with the climb, which is unusual!), all the way to Walshaw farm, where a long extra loop (which looks illogical on the map but isn't) commences to Hardcastle crags, then round to climb up Turn Hill after drinks at Lady Royd farm, then down to Walshaw again. With no local knowledge at all, I was completely unaware it was the end of loop, thinking we had much further to go. With distance in my legs, I was thoroughly enjoying myself, skipping through delightful woodland. Another climb, then south skirting Crimsworth Dean Beck (the route to Haworth) to New Bridge and the notorious last mile and a bit, up hundreds of steps (the 'staircase to heaven') back up to the village. I only realised we were near the end when I saw Heptonstall high above the valley as we emerged from the woods near Midgeholes.
Time/Position: 2.26.40 (87th from 279)
After enjoying the Haworth Hobble last year, it was nice to have an excuse to return to this area: terra incognita for us to an extent. This was a supremely enjoyable event taken at training pace - in perfect early spring conditions of light cloud, bright sun and a distinctly chilly wind preventing us from over-heating. The climb from Hebden Bridge up to Heptonstall is ingrained in my memory from the Hobble - so it was nice to start on the cobbled streets of Heptonstall itself! A vicar with air horn made it more memorable, as did the early descent down to Colden Clough, then up and round tracks to the 'navigation section' over the moorland of Black Mires to Standing Stone hill - classic Yorkshire scenery - then down via Ling Hollow to the valley (Hebden Dale). After this, a steep climb on tarmac initially north onto the moors again in sunshine and bracing wind. Just after the high point (Greave Height), I turned my ankle, an old weakness, and had to hobble for a while until it righted itself. This is a familiar routine, however, and by the time we had descended to the remote reservoir at Walshaw Dean, it was OK - and I felt good for the gentle climb up to High Rakes/Wadsworth, particularly after a gel. An unfeasibly long descent (didn't seem commensurate with the climb, which is unusual!), all the way to Walshaw farm, where a long extra loop (which looks illogical on the map but isn't) commences to Hardcastle crags, then round to climb up Turn Hill after drinks at Lady Royd farm, then down to Walshaw again. With no local knowledge at all, I was completely unaware it was the end of loop, thinking we had much further to go. With distance in my legs, I was thoroughly enjoying myself, skipping through delightful woodland. Another climb, then south skirting Crimsworth Dean Beck (the route to Haworth) to New Bridge and the notorious last mile and a bit, up hundreds of steps (the 'staircase to heaven') back up to the village. I only realised we were near the end when I saw Heptonstall high above the valley as we emerged from the woods near Midgeholes.
Wednesday, March 20, 2019
Llanberis slate
Crag: Bus Stop Quarry, Llanberis
Routes: First Stop (f5:sec), Equinox variant (VS 4c:sec), Ferrero Roche (HS:led), Bosch Stop Quarry (f6a+:led*), Bosch Stop Quarry (f6a+:sec), Bish Bash Bosch (f6a:sec)
An unprecedented miscalculation saw us heading all the way over to a misty, dank and drizzly Tremadog while western Snowdonia enjoyed stunning conditions of shifting cloud and dazzling sunshine. To be fair, the forecast was largely to blame, along with the likelihood crags would have been wet after recent rain. Still, we usually pride ourselves on our local knowledge so it was galling: we headed up to Moel y Gest from Porthmadog to find the crag protected by waist-high brambles (theoretically only a 'summer' problem) and the rock sodden and utterly unappealing (a westerly airflow had led to this dank sea mist rolling in). So after wasting several hours, we headed back west in frustrated mood, instantly emerging from the clag and damp at Penygroes. Time was running out, so we headed to Deiniolen and Bus Stop Quarry, intent on salvaging a shrivelled husk from the day (really, we should have been on the east face of Tryfan, or similar). After a warm-up, Vic and Steve led the old trade route Equinox, now rather polished, by the direct variations, and I led the unpleasantly loose groove of Ferrero Roche. We finished with the two 6a+ routes higher up: the one on the right has a very technical crux, which I failed on a couple of years ago. It involves a high clip, then a blind move to a vague toe hold, a crimp, then a footless lunge to an obvious hold. It is much harder than it looks. I grabbed at the clip when leading, then did it again clean with rope above. The companion 6a+ line to its left is a tad more positive and certainly easier.
Routes: First Stop (f5:sec), Equinox variant (VS 4c:sec), Ferrero Roche (HS:led), Bosch Stop Quarry (f6a+:led*), Bosch Stop Quarry (f6a+:sec), Bish Bash Bosch (f6a:sec)
An unprecedented miscalculation saw us heading all the way over to a misty, dank and drizzly Tremadog while western Snowdonia enjoyed stunning conditions of shifting cloud and dazzling sunshine. To be fair, the forecast was largely to blame, along with the likelihood crags would have been wet after recent rain. Still, we usually pride ourselves on our local knowledge so it was galling: we headed up to Moel y Gest from Porthmadog to find the crag protected by waist-high brambles (theoretically only a 'summer' problem) and the rock sodden and utterly unappealing (a westerly airflow had led to this dank sea mist rolling in). So after wasting several hours, we headed back west in frustrated mood, instantly emerging from the clag and damp at Penygroes. Time was running out, so we headed to Deiniolen and Bus Stop Quarry, intent on salvaging a shrivelled husk from the day (really, we should have been on the east face of Tryfan, or similar). After a warm-up, Vic and Steve led the old trade route Equinox, now rather polished, by the direct variations, and I led the unpleasantly loose groove of Ferrero Roche. We finished with the two 6a+ routes higher up: the one on the right has a very technical crux, which I failed on a couple of years ago. It involves a high clip, then a blind move to a vague toe hold, a crimp, then a footless lunge to an obvious hold. It is much harder than it looks. I grabbed at the clip when leading, then did it again clean with rope above. The companion 6a+ line to its left is a tad more positive and certainly easier.
Sunday, March 17, 2019
Stretton Hills fell race
Race: Stretton Hills fell race (9.8k/2100ft)
Time/Position: 1.00.47 (188th from 339)
If anything, English championship fell races are even more competitive than the British equivalents. With no speed at all, I was always likely to be well down the field - but the motive was just to add some more climbing to a decent week of training. I'd never done the race before (the precise route varies, and it tends to be used as a championship race) - it encompasses all the hard parts of the Long Mynd Valleys race, which I last did in the snow in 2009, maximising all the climbing on these steep little hills. It also encompassed an element of route choice, and in this sense echoed last month's Clwydian Sheeptracks. I set off with Vic and Steve from Church Stretton, up the start of the Burway (done on a bike - horrible), then off towards Yearlet. I went right, they went left. My route headed straight up the front, getting me to the top in 17 minutes from town - but was definitely slower. I caught Steve on the path over towards Haddon Hill then took a good line lower down to drop directly in to Carding Mill valley - a very steep descent. I made up a few places, then quite enjoyed the brutal climb all the way back up the top of Haddon Hill. Then a long contouring finale above and around Long Batch. I finally caught Vic, and enjoyed the extensive views over Caer Caradog and the Wrekin. Great running along the escarpment above Long Batch (although the best route by far was to drop into the valley). Instead, I dropped down awkward terrain to Jonathan's Rock and the final checkpoint, only to find Vic and numerous other runners had nipped in front by taking the better route through the valley!
Time/Position: 1.00.47 (188th from 339)
If anything, English championship fell races are even more competitive than the British equivalents. With no speed at all, I was always likely to be well down the field - but the motive was just to add some more climbing to a decent week of training. I'd never done the race before (the precise route varies, and it tends to be used as a championship race) - it encompasses all the hard parts of the Long Mynd Valleys race, which I last did in the snow in 2009, maximising all the climbing on these steep little hills. It also encompassed an element of route choice, and in this sense echoed last month's Clwydian Sheeptracks. I set off with Vic and Steve from Church Stretton, up the start of the Burway (done on a bike - horrible), then off towards Yearlet. I went right, they went left. My route headed straight up the front, getting me to the top in 17 minutes from town - but was definitely slower. I caught Steve on the path over towards Haddon Hill then took a good line lower down to drop directly in to Carding Mill valley - a very steep descent. I made up a few places, then quite enjoyed the brutal climb all the way back up the top of Haddon Hill. Then a long contouring finale above and around Long Batch. I finally caught Vic, and enjoyed the extensive views over Caer Caradog and the Wrekin. Great running along the escarpment above Long Batch (although the best route by far was to drop into the valley). Instead, I dropped down awkward terrain to Jonathan's Rock and the final checkpoint, only to find Vic and numerous other runners had nipped in front by taking the better route through the valley!
Friday, March 15, 2019
Clwydian long run
An attempt to increase the volume of climbing in advance of the Fellsman with a longish route attempting to maximise all local hills. From the Collie, I headed over the Beast up Bryn Alyn, then over towards Eryrys, emerging on the bridleway below the mast. A loop round the village, then back down the bridleway towards the Ruthin road. Up to the top of Bryn Alyn again, joining the Beast for a second time (via a newly discovered path!), then to Maeshafn via the undulating Big Covert path. Up to the top of Moel Findeg, then past the crag to Gwernymynydd and the Collie, where I did the usual route up Moel Famau via the Leet. Tired on the climb, although I perked up a tad for the descent.
Sunday, March 03, 2019
Birkenhead border league
Race: Birkenhead Park 5.5m (Border League race 5)
Time/Position: 33.19 (76th from 344)
A wet day in Birkenhead for the usual four lap border league route round the park, and another predictable 'slowest ever time' for a race I have done many times (at least 7 or 8). In previous years, I've always run just over 31 minutes and finished in the top 20. Today: two minutes and 60 places down: my 72nd BL race. Slightly perversely, despite the laps I always enjoy this fixture and did so again today in the rain - and lunch in Liverpool was a nice way to recover.
Time/Position: 33.19 (76th from 344)
A wet day in Birkenhead for the usual four lap border league route round the park, and another predictable 'slowest ever time' for a race I have done many times (at least 7 or 8). In previous years, I've always run just over 31 minutes and finished in the top 20. Today: two minutes and 60 places down: my 72nd BL race. Slightly perversely, despite the laps I always enjoy this fixture and did so again today in the rain - and lunch in Liverpool was a nice way to recover.
Wednesday, February 27, 2019
Maeshafn climbing
Crag: Maeshafn
Routes: Rambler (S:sec), The Minstrel (E1 5b:sec), Royal Plume (E2:sec*)
The final day of a record-breaking spell of warm winter weather. Stuck in the office all week so took advantage of two free hours to indulge in a short training session at Maeshafn. Steve led Rambler, as he learns to place gear, then we trained on the two steep cracklines to the right, including the crag classic of The Minstrel.
Routes: Rambler (S:sec), The Minstrel (E1 5b:sec), Royal Plume (E2:sec*)
The final day of a record-breaking spell of warm winter weather. Stuck in the office all week so took advantage of two free hours to indulge in a short training session at Maeshafn. Steve led Rambler, as he learns to place gear, then we trained on the two steep cracklines to the right, including the crag classic of The Minstrel.
Sunday, February 24, 2019
Clwydian Sheeptracks
Race: Clwydian Sheeptracks fell race (27k/AL)
Time/Position: 3.33 (40th from 129)
The incredible weather continues, which both helped and hindered this event, hovering somewhere between mountain marathon and long fell race in tone. It is a great concept: revealing the checkpoints in advance and allowing competitors to reccie the best lines at leisure. One small problem: unlike most of my fellow local runners, for various reasons I hadn't reccied it (apart from three of them). Quite rightly, I lost time as a result in numerous obscure parts of the Clwydians, even though I always knew broadly where I was! As the race name suggests, the fastest lines took trods and hidden sheeptracks - most of which required some prior knowledge, few of which were normal paths. My legs felt a bit tired throughout, but I went reasonably well initially - from Cilcain over Moel Drws y Coed and the shoulder of Moel Arthur down to checkpoints above Nannerch. It was hot, absurdly so for the time of year, and I adopted my normal approach to the weight/water trade-off. This is always risky, and this time I lost: dehydrated towards the end and not taking on food. On the way back from Pen y Cloddiau, I took the slower direct route over Arthur, then got the next two checkpoints bang on before making a stupid decision to drop down to the Vale of Clwyd side for CP13, all the way up Nant y Ne and then the debilitating direct climb reversing my own Hotfoot race route! This finished me off, and I made another bad route choice round the back of Foel Fenlli before limping home dehydrated. Only two weeks after Brecon-Cardiff, so perhaps I was paying a bit for that towards the end.
Time/Position: 3.33 (40th from 129)
The incredible weather continues, which both helped and hindered this event, hovering somewhere between mountain marathon and long fell race in tone. It is a great concept: revealing the checkpoints in advance and allowing competitors to reccie the best lines at leisure. One small problem: unlike most of my fellow local runners, for various reasons I hadn't reccied it (apart from three of them). Quite rightly, I lost time as a result in numerous obscure parts of the Clwydians, even though I always knew broadly where I was! As the race name suggests, the fastest lines took trods and hidden sheeptracks - most of which required some prior knowledge, few of which were normal paths. My legs felt a bit tired throughout, but I went reasonably well initially - from Cilcain over Moel Drws y Coed and the shoulder of Moel Arthur down to checkpoints above Nannerch. It was hot, absurdly so for the time of year, and I adopted my normal approach to the weight/water trade-off. This is always risky, and this time I lost: dehydrated towards the end and not taking on food. On the way back from Pen y Cloddiau, I took the slower direct route over Arthur, then got the next two checkpoints bang on before making a stupid decision to drop down to the Vale of Clwyd side for CP13, all the way up Nant y Ne and then the debilitating direct climb reversing my own Hotfoot race route! This finished me off, and I made another bad route choice round the back of Foel Fenlli before limping home dehydrated. Only two weeks after Brecon-Cardiff, so perhaps I was paying a bit for that towards the end.
Thursday, February 21, 2019
Castle Inn climbing
Crag: Castle Inn Quarry
Routes: Line One (f4c:led), Smartie (f5c:sec), Appenzeller (f5c:led), Line Two (f5c:led), Rosecomb (f6a:led), School Mam (f6a:led), Cakewalk Direct (f6c:sec), School Mam Original (f6b:sec)
An unusually early start to the Welsh rock climbing year, with warm temperatures and plenty of sunshine. Worrying from a planetary perspective, but it seemed wise to take advantage with an opening salvo at a venue I've been visiting for nearly 30 years. Despite the temperatures, there was a strong wind blowing, and we kicked off with a couple of newly bolted routes at the sheltered far right of the crag (I think I've done every route here - with a couple of hard exceptions). These were new, however: an easy line up the crumbly right-hand arete, then the two delicate 5c's that I'd done before. Then came Line Two, another similar 5c, and a slightly harder line (tricky start) on the left that is given 6a. These are all short routes, though, so after a bite we headed across to the windy main face where I led old favourite School Mam which is probably f5 by the most logical line up the cracks. We then upped the grade considerably, for training purposes, with rope above. Cakewalk Direct has always been one of the harder routes at the crag, big numbers for February, but to my surprise I managed to despatch it cleanly (although I have done it before). It has some technical moves on tiny edges and flakes to gain the overlap: crux moves over this, very powerful initially with an awkward side-pull, gain the chain. After the slightly easier line to the left (still technical) this felt like a good start to the year.
Routes: Line One (f4c:led), Smartie (f5c:sec), Appenzeller (f5c:led), Line Two (f5c:led), Rosecomb (f6a:led), School Mam (f6a:led), Cakewalk Direct (f6c:sec), School Mam Original (f6b:sec)
An unusually early start to the Welsh rock climbing year, with warm temperatures and plenty of sunshine. Worrying from a planetary perspective, but it seemed wise to take advantage with an opening salvo at a venue I've been visiting for nearly 30 years. Despite the temperatures, there was a strong wind blowing, and we kicked off with a couple of newly bolted routes at the sheltered far right of the crag (I think I've done every route here - with a couple of hard exceptions). These were new, however: an easy line up the crumbly right-hand arete, then the two delicate 5c's that I'd done before. Then came Line Two, another similar 5c, and a slightly harder line (tricky start) on the left that is given 6a. These are all short routes, though, so after a bite we headed across to the windy main face where I led old favourite School Mam which is probably f5 by the most logical line up the cracks. We then upped the grade considerably, for training purposes, with rope above. Cakewalk Direct has always been one of the harder routes at the crag, big numbers for February, but to my surprise I managed to despatch it cleanly (although I have done it before). It has some technical moves on tiny edges and flakes to gain the overlap: crux moves over this, very powerful initially with an awkward side-pull, gain the chain. After the slightly easier line to the left (still technical) this felt like a good start to the year.
Monday, February 18, 2019
Purple Mountain Traverse
Peaks: Purple Mountain (832m), Tomies South (757m), Shehy Mountain (762m), Tomies (735m)
Area: Macgillycuddy's Reeks, Kerry, Ireland
This miniature massif probably counts as the most notable feature of the Killarney skyline, rising above the lake and occasionally living up to its name when the light is right. We could see it from our hotel on the Muckross road and it gave a delightful outing, the perfect 'airport day'. After another full Irish breakfast, we drove the short distance to Kate Kearney's Cottage and set off in yet another heavy shower along the narrow road which leads up to the Gap of Dunloe. This is famously picturesque, and did not disappoint. It was quiet, and we thoroughly enjoyed the flat walking up to Coosaun Lough, then the Black Lake, Cushvally and Auger lakes as the road climbs through the ever narrowing valley. Towards the top of the hairpins, the pass takes on a Llanberis feel - black crags and a distinctive Celtic atmosphere. I felt entirely at home, just like Dingle yesterday (although in the height of summer, I imagine this road feels very different, a tourist hotspot). Above lies the Head of Gap, and a small path climbs steeply up towards Purple Mountain itself (it must be at least 8k to this point from the cottage, a long walk-in). The weather had cleared by now, and we had some of the best views of the trip as the cloud lifted from the Black Valley and eventually Cnoc na Peiste and the main Reeks ridge. Stunning scenery on all sides, and even the novelty of sunshine. After skirting little Glas Lough, however, it started to rain again - and this turned to heavy sleet as we gained the ridge with views over the other side to the Upper Lake and Mangerton. The path weaves around to gain boulders leading to the summit of Purple Mountain, perfectly timed as the weather cleared again. These were the first real summit views of the trip, and they were worth the wait, as Purple Mountain occupies a perfect position between the Reeks and Black Valley on one side, the green valleys of Kerry to the north, and the Killarney Lakes directly below. Wispy shower clouds were lit by the sun as they tracked slowly across Ladies View on the Ring of Kerry. The views of Lough Leane and Ross Castle got even better as we walked over the subsidiary peaks of Tomies South and then out on a limb to Shehy Mountain, which is poised directly above Killarney and Lough Leane. A very enjoyable ridge walk which was worth savouring, so we took our time to contour round to the short final climb up Tomies. Here, we just sat for a while, watching the ever changing play of light on the lakes and Reeks ridge, now covered in light snow. Shower clouds and rainbows tracked across the valley bottom. There was still a fair way to go back to the cottage, so we jogged down the steep slopes of Tomies Rock to gain the twisting path back to the car. Then, after a quick shower, it was back to the airport via Macroom and a swordfish supper in Cork.
Area: Macgillycuddy's Reeks, Kerry, Ireland
This miniature massif probably counts as the most notable feature of the Killarney skyline, rising above the lake and occasionally living up to its name when the light is right. We could see it from our hotel on the Muckross road and it gave a delightful outing, the perfect 'airport day'. After another full Irish breakfast, we drove the short distance to Kate Kearney's Cottage and set off in yet another heavy shower along the narrow road which leads up to the Gap of Dunloe. This is famously picturesque, and did not disappoint. It was quiet, and we thoroughly enjoyed the flat walking up to Coosaun Lough, then the Black Lake, Cushvally and Auger lakes as the road climbs through the ever narrowing valley. Towards the top of the hairpins, the pass takes on a Llanberis feel - black crags and a distinctive Celtic atmosphere. I felt entirely at home, just like Dingle yesterday (although in the height of summer, I imagine this road feels very different, a tourist hotspot). Above lies the Head of Gap, and a small path climbs steeply up towards Purple Mountain itself (it must be at least 8k to this point from the cottage, a long walk-in). The weather had cleared by now, and we had some of the best views of the trip as the cloud lifted from the Black Valley and eventually Cnoc na Peiste and the main Reeks ridge. Stunning scenery on all sides, and even the novelty of sunshine. After skirting little Glas Lough, however, it started to rain again - and this turned to heavy sleet as we gained the ridge with views over the other side to the Upper Lake and Mangerton. The path weaves around to gain boulders leading to the summit of Purple Mountain, perfectly timed as the weather cleared again. These were the first real summit views of the trip, and they were worth the wait, as Purple Mountain occupies a perfect position between the Reeks and Black Valley on one side, the green valleys of Kerry to the north, and the Killarney Lakes directly below. Wispy shower clouds were lit by the sun as they tracked slowly across Ladies View on the Ring of Kerry. The views of Lough Leane and Ross Castle got even better as we walked over the subsidiary peaks of Tomies South and then out on a limb to Shehy Mountain, which is poised directly above Killarney and Lough Leane. A very enjoyable ridge walk which was worth savouring, so we took our time to contour round to the short final climb up Tomies. Here, we just sat for a while, watching the ever changing play of light on the lakes and Reeks ridge, now covered in light snow. Shower clouds and rainbows tracked across the valley bottom. There was still a fair way to go back to the cottage, so we jogged down the steep slopes of Tomies Rock to gain the twisting path back to the car. Then, after a quick shower, it was back to the airport via Macroom and a swordfish supper in Cork.
Sunday, February 17, 2019
Mount Brandon
Peaks: Brandon (952m)
Area: Dingle, Kerry, Ireland
One of the finest mountains in the British Isles, Brandon rises directly out of the Atlantic at the end of the wild Dingle peninsula. I've wanted to come here for years, but ran out of time (and weather) on our last visit to Kerry in 1999. This morning, we drove from Killarney to Tralee then along the coast of Dingle to the Gaeltacht and finally Cloghane in constantly changing weather under huge skies. This remained the day's theme, although we had glimpses of the upper ridge as the mists shifted in and out, particularly early on, as we set off from the small Faha car park above the sea. Hail, sleet and rain swept in for the initial contouring slopes to gain the spectacular 'paternoster' lake valley which marks the entry into the wild upper reaches of the mountain. Behind, wonderful ever-changing light as showers swept over the Slieve Mish range from the Atlantic. As we got higher, the path kinks towards the upper cwm, a superb hanging valley, and a spectacular hailstorm swept down - backlit by the sun over the two lower lakes of Lough na Lice and Lough Cruttia. The terrain changes at this point, and the route reminded us of the Pyg track in the sense that it picks through moraines and rivulets before climbing the headwall, which looks steep from below but actually has a zigzag path up it. The rock scenery is tremendous, with the Faha ridge above and the tiny lochans hidden between boulders and ridges. Rain showers kept sweeping in, then disappearing equally rapidly. There seemed to be blue sky above, so we hoped for a Fohn effect clearance, but it never came. We emerged above the headwall into another predictable galeforce westerly and an immediate and complete change of scenery. Indeed, Brandon is famed for its east-west contrast: the eastern approach is rocky and dramatic (the route we took), while the west is just a grassy slope. We ploughed up to the cold and windy summit, before taking our time back down to the notch - hopeful of a clearance and even taking a very wet and cold lunch sheltered from the wind just below the notch. Finally, we were rewarded with a brief clearance and misty views down to the Atlantic crashing onto the beach 2500ft below. It was only a matter of seconds, though, and the weather then closed in for almost the entire descent: steady rain and thick clag. The changeable theme continued as we drove to spectacular Brandon Point: stunning play of light and shade with rainbows and showers tracking in off the ocean and Slieve Mish appearing then disappearing in minutes. A quick coffee in Mullally's Pub, then back for another pleasant evening in Killarney.
Area: Dingle, Kerry, Ireland
One of the finest mountains in the British Isles, Brandon rises directly out of the Atlantic at the end of the wild Dingle peninsula. I've wanted to come here for years, but ran out of time (and weather) on our last visit to Kerry in 1999. This morning, we drove from Killarney to Tralee then along the coast of Dingle to the Gaeltacht and finally Cloghane in constantly changing weather under huge skies. This remained the day's theme, although we had glimpses of the upper ridge as the mists shifted in and out, particularly early on, as we set off from the small Faha car park above the sea. Hail, sleet and rain swept in for the initial contouring slopes to gain the spectacular 'paternoster' lake valley which marks the entry into the wild upper reaches of the mountain. Behind, wonderful ever-changing light as showers swept over the Slieve Mish range from the Atlantic. As we got higher, the path kinks towards the upper cwm, a superb hanging valley, and a spectacular hailstorm swept down - backlit by the sun over the two lower lakes of Lough na Lice and Lough Cruttia. The terrain changes at this point, and the route reminded us of the Pyg track in the sense that it picks through moraines and rivulets before climbing the headwall, which looks steep from below but actually has a zigzag path up it. The rock scenery is tremendous, with the Faha ridge above and the tiny lochans hidden between boulders and ridges. Rain showers kept sweeping in, then disappearing equally rapidly. There seemed to be blue sky above, so we hoped for a Fohn effect clearance, but it never came. We emerged above the headwall into another predictable galeforce westerly and an immediate and complete change of scenery. Indeed, Brandon is famed for its east-west contrast: the eastern approach is rocky and dramatic (the route we took), while the west is just a grassy slope. We ploughed up to the cold and windy summit, before taking our time back down to the notch - hopeful of a clearance and even taking a very wet and cold lunch sheltered from the wind just below the notch. Finally, we were rewarded with a brief clearance and misty views down to the Atlantic crashing onto the beach 2500ft below. It was only a matter of seconds, though, and the weather then closed in for almost the entire descent: steady rain and thick clag. The changeable theme continued as we drove to spectacular Brandon Point: stunning play of light and shade with rainbows and showers tracking in off the ocean and Slieve Mish appearing then disappearing in minutes. A quick coffee in Mullally's Pub, then back for another pleasant evening in Killarney.
Saturday, February 16, 2019
Reeks Traverse
Peaks: Beenkeragh (1010m), The Bones (959m), Carrauntoohil (1039m), Cnoc an Toinne (845m), Cnoc an Chuillinn (958m), Maolan Bui (973m), Cnoc na Peiste/Cummeenepeasta (988m)
Area: Macgillycuddy's Reeks, County Kerry, Ireland
Although I've been up a few Irish hills over the years, in disparate parts of the country from the Mournes to Donegal, Dartry to Achill Island, lots of gaps remain. The most obvious being down in the south-west, where all the highest and most interesting peaks are. So this winter mini-break was a great way to kick off what I intend to be a fruitful mountaineering year, alongside Huw and Steve. After flying into Cork last night and driving to Killarney, we set off from Cronin's Yard into a strong headwind thundering down Hag's Glen. Intermittent rain added to the mix, although the cloudbase wasn't too low - around 800m - so we could get an idea of our surroundings. The plan was to head alongside the Gaddagh River to Lough Gouragh at the end of Hag's Glen. Here, the surroundings are dramatic, with mist swirling down into the impressive cwms below Carrauntoohil and Beenkeragh. We contoured the hillside above the lake and headed for the cwm on the right, before traversing left towards what was obviously an interesting ridge, marked Stumpa an tStaimh on the map. I believe this is known as the Hag's Tooth ridge, and we joined it at the top of the eponymous feature, a rock pinnacle. This was all wonderful, just picking our way through unfamiliar terrain: my favourite thing of all. The ridge was wet, of course, but good rough sandstone which gave nice (although generally avoidable) scrambling, with the odd steeper rise in places. After it eased, a misty trudge to a deserted Beenkeragh summit. I took a bearing to get established on the Beenkeragh ridge, which leads to Ireland's highest mountain: Carrauntoohil, and is a delightful route somewhat reminiscent of Striding Edge although the scrambling is extremely mild. We had it entirely to ourselves, and the strong winds eased a little - blocked by the ridge ahead. Occasionally the mist shifted to reveal the rock features and views down to Coomloughra. The ridge narrows at various points, and can be taken direct with good rock - over 'The Bones' for example, akin to an Alpine gendarme but counted as a subsidiary peak. A final slog leads to the top of Carrauntoohil - and the full force of the wind (as well as the weekend crowds, although still no more than 15 people). The gusts were ferocious, and the nav fairly tricky from the summit with lots of routes in all directions (similar to Yr Wyddfa in that respect). All good fun though - and we popped out of the clag at the broad col above Devil's Ladder (the normal route, a scree slog). The wind blasted over this col, but we had views on both sides with glimmers of light lower down. The ridge then becomes grassy although still well defined, and a tailwind blew us over Cnoc an Toinn to the higher peak of Cnoc an Chuillin (we finally managed a bite to eat nestled in a sheltered couloir on the lee slopes). There are few easy escape routes down to Hag's Glen from this ridge, and the weather closed in again: heavy rain, gale-force gusts, thick clag. We crossed over some subsidiary summits, then located 'The Bone', one the descents, before deciding to continue to the final major peak: Cnoc na Peiste (also known by numerous other names). From here, there were two more peaks along the final short section, but Huw wanted to finish so we plotted a route down the steep NW ridge - this took a careful bearing to avoid the crags, and we emerged above Lough Cummenepeasta then continued down steeply to a wild cwm above Hag's Glen opposite The Bone. A bog trot led down to the circular loop along the valley base and eventually the main path back to Cronin's Yard.
Area: Macgillycuddy's Reeks, County Kerry, Ireland
Although I've been up a few Irish hills over the years, in disparate parts of the country from the Mournes to Donegal, Dartry to Achill Island, lots of gaps remain. The most obvious being down in the south-west, where all the highest and most interesting peaks are. So this winter mini-break was a great way to kick off what I intend to be a fruitful mountaineering year, alongside Huw and Steve. After flying into Cork last night and driving to Killarney, we set off from Cronin's Yard into a strong headwind thundering down Hag's Glen. Intermittent rain added to the mix, although the cloudbase wasn't too low - around 800m - so we could get an idea of our surroundings. The plan was to head alongside the Gaddagh River to Lough Gouragh at the end of Hag's Glen. Here, the surroundings are dramatic, with mist swirling down into the impressive cwms below Carrauntoohil and Beenkeragh. We contoured the hillside above the lake and headed for the cwm on the right, before traversing left towards what was obviously an interesting ridge, marked Stumpa an tStaimh on the map. I believe this is known as the Hag's Tooth ridge, and we joined it at the top of the eponymous feature, a rock pinnacle. This was all wonderful, just picking our way through unfamiliar terrain: my favourite thing of all. The ridge was wet, of course, but good rough sandstone which gave nice (although generally avoidable) scrambling, with the odd steeper rise in places. After it eased, a misty trudge to a deserted Beenkeragh summit. I took a bearing to get established on the Beenkeragh ridge, which leads to Ireland's highest mountain: Carrauntoohil, and is a delightful route somewhat reminiscent of Striding Edge although the scrambling is extremely mild. We had it entirely to ourselves, and the strong winds eased a little - blocked by the ridge ahead. Occasionally the mist shifted to reveal the rock features and views down to Coomloughra. The ridge narrows at various points, and can be taken direct with good rock - over 'The Bones' for example, akin to an Alpine gendarme but counted as a subsidiary peak. A final slog leads to the top of Carrauntoohil - and the full force of the wind (as well as the weekend crowds, although still no more than 15 people). The gusts were ferocious, and the nav fairly tricky from the summit with lots of routes in all directions (similar to Yr Wyddfa in that respect). All good fun though - and we popped out of the clag at the broad col above Devil's Ladder (the normal route, a scree slog). The wind blasted over this col, but we had views on both sides with glimmers of light lower down. The ridge then becomes grassy although still well defined, and a tailwind blew us over Cnoc an Toinn to the higher peak of Cnoc an Chuillin (we finally managed a bite to eat nestled in a sheltered couloir on the lee slopes). There are few easy escape routes down to Hag's Glen from this ridge, and the weather closed in again: heavy rain, gale-force gusts, thick clag. We crossed over some subsidiary summits, then located 'The Bone', one the descents, before deciding to continue to the final major peak: Cnoc na Peiste (also known by numerous other names). From here, there were two more peaks along the final short section, but Huw wanted to finish so we plotted a route down the steep NW ridge - this took a careful bearing to avoid the crags, and we emerged above Lough Cummenepeasta then continued down steeply to a wild cwm above Hag's Glen opposite The Bone. A bog trot led down to the circular loop along the valley base and eventually the main path back to Cronin's Yard.
Sunday, February 10, 2019
Brecon to Cardiff
Race: Brecon to Cardiff Ultra Marathon (70k/43m)
Time/Position: 7.33 (51st from 390)
Another blend of rural beauty and urban grit: in that sense, this race had some similarities with my last ultra, round Rotherham in October. I was also entirely reliant on that event for distance, as I haven't really done anything long since (apart from a few 18-20 milers). The usual 'car bivouac' in a floodlit retail park at Nantgarw, then a pre-dawn bus ride through light lying snow to Brecon Theatre, where we set off along the Monmouthshire canal and Usk valley to Talybont. This was a lovely gentle start in sleety drizzle, which petered out as we started the gradual but very long climb south-west up a cobbled path to tracks above Talybont reservoir and up into the Brecon Beacons proper. I have been up this valley before, getting lost in icy mist on the Tour of Torpantau fell race a few years ago. This is the way the Taff Trail negotiates the barrier of the Beacons, reaching its highpoint below Pant y Creigiau, the snowline just above but well-timed sunshine breaking through the shower clouds at the most scenic part of the whole route. Then the race finally heads south (and downhill!) after all the kinks, along the the reservoirs to take in wooded paths above Pontsticill reservoir and CP2. Then, after an annoying detour, quiet cycle paths buried in the valley below Gurnos, Morlais and Trefechan to finally gain CP3 at the Cefn community centre in Merthyr. A blissful change of shoes (Innov8s into road shoes with fresh socks) then a complete change in surroundings for the second half of the race. Over Cefn Coed viaduct through the middle of Merthyr and then following the line of the Taff more closely - through Merthyr Vale to pass through famous valleys villages like Troedyrhiw and Aberfan (CP4). Continually interesting industrial scenery, with the flat Taff Trail weaving alongside. The valley and route takes another bend below Treharris before the endless final leg. At this point, there are inevitably some rough patches. The trick is to push on when you feel OK, typically after a feed, then dig in for the bad bits. After a heavy shower, the track was under a foot of cold water before the final checkpoint at the Trallwn working mens club. After a final feed, I ate all my carried food and pushed on for the final 10k south-east along the edge of Pontypridd through the housing estates above the Taff to a rather cruel finish, going beyond the visible finish, with a final kink as the route emerges at the main Caerphilly road above Nantgarw.
Time/Position: 7.33 (51st from 390)
Another blend of rural beauty and urban grit: in that sense, this race had some similarities with my last ultra, round Rotherham in October. I was also entirely reliant on that event for distance, as I haven't really done anything long since (apart from a few 18-20 milers). The usual 'car bivouac' in a floodlit retail park at Nantgarw, then a pre-dawn bus ride through light lying snow to Brecon Theatre, where we set off along the Monmouthshire canal and Usk valley to Talybont. This was a lovely gentle start in sleety drizzle, which petered out as we started the gradual but very long climb south-west up a cobbled path to tracks above Talybont reservoir and up into the Brecon Beacons proper. I have been up this valley before, getting lost in icy mist on the Tour of Torpantau fell race a few years ago. This is the way the Taff Trail negotiates the barrier of the Beacons, reaching its highpoint below Pant y Creigiau, the snowline just above but well-timed sunshine breaking through the shower clouds at the most scenic part of the whole route. Then the race finally heads south (and downhill!) after all the kinks, along the the reservoirs to take in wooded paths above Pontsticill reservoir and CP2. Then, after an annoying detour, quiet cycle paths buried in the valley below Gurnos, Morlais and Trefechan to finally gain CP3 at the Cefn community centre in Merthyr. A blissful change of shoes (Innov8s into road shoes with fresh socks) then a complete change in surroundings for the second half of the race. Over Cefn Coed viaduct through the middle of Merthyr and then following the line of the Taff more closely - through Merthyr Vale to pass through famous valleys villages like Troedyrhiw and Aberfan (CP4). Continually interesting industrial scenery, with the flat Taff Trail weaving alongside. The valley and route takes another bend below Treharris before the endless final leg. At this point, there are inevitably some rough patches. The trick is to push on when you feel OK, typically after a feed, then dig in for the bad bits. After a heavy shower, the track was under a foot of cold water before the final checkpoint at the Trallwn working mens club. After a final feed, I ate all my carried food and pushed on for the final 10k south-east along the edge of Pontypridd through the housing estates above the Taff to a rather cruel finish, going beyond the visible finish, with a final kink as the route emerges at the main Caerphilly road above Nantgarw.
Thursday, January 31, 2019
Pen yr Ole Wen
Peak: Pen yr Olau Wen
Area: Carneddau, Eryri
A ferocious northerly made life very hard this morning, along with drifting and unconsolidated snow. There was no prospect of climbing, although all the peaks were clear first thing and conditions looked good for a long walk round the Carneddau ridges. The reality was somewhat different - a familiar feeling, as Steve and I trudged up the East ridge, some very deep snow drifts in places. Tiring progress, although it was at least relatively sheltered until we emerged on the plateau towards the summit. This got even worse as we made our way across the ridge to Dafydd - the wind and windchill as bad as I have known it in 32 years. Not necessarily the worst, but as bad! Onward progress was impossible as we were getting blown off our feet in the wrong (southerly) direction. So the only option (communicated by pre-arranged hand gestures!) was a direct descent down to Ogwen cottage, which at least made for a nice little traverse. I rarely use this route, as it's a notorious slog in ascent, but it is quick - even in these unconsolidated conditions with frequent waist-deep drifts. Back to the car via the lake.
Area: Carneddau, Eryri
A ferocious northerly made life very hard this morning, along with drifting and unconsolidated snow. There was no prospect of climbing, although all the peaks were clear first thing and conditions looked good for a long walk round the Carneddau ridges. The reality was somewhat different - a familiar feeling, as Steve and I trudged up the East ridge, some very deep snow drifts in places. Tiring progress, although it was at least relatively sheltered until we emerged on the plateau towards the summit. This got even worse as we made our way across the ridge to Dafydd - the wind and windchill as bad as I have known it in 32 years. Not necessarily the worst, but as bad! Onward progress was impossible as we were getting blown off our feet in the wrong (southerly) direction. So the only option (communicated by pre-arranged hand gestures!) was a direct descent down to Ogwen cottage, which at least made for a nice little traverse. I rarely use this route, as it's a notorious slog in ascent, but it is quick - even in these unconsolidated conditions with frequent waist-deep drifts. Back to the car via the lake.
Sunday, January 27, 2019
Tattenhall border league
Race: Tattenhall 9.8k (Border League race 4)
Time/Position: 38.20 (72nd from 372)
My 500th competitive race, so an anniversary of sorts, although I hate to think how slow my 1000th will be if this trajectory continues. Still hopeful that resuming speed training will help avoid the kind of situation I found myself in again today, really struggling to maintain any kind of pace. It's one of my favourite BL routes, but this was by far the slowest I've ever run it. Conditions weren't great, with a strong headwind on the run-in, although it was a great help for the long climb up to the Peckforton Hills at Burwardsley. The long straight back to the finish was tough, with my lack of speed really showing: unable to stay with any groups so constantly exposed to the headwind. Kate and I then had lunch at the Pheasant, followed by a very windy walk along the Sandstone Trail.
Time/Position: 38.20 (72nd from 372)
My 500th competitive race, so an anniversary of sorts, although I hate to think how slow my 1000th will be if this trajectory continues. Still hopeful that resuming speed training will help avoid the kind of situation I found myself in again today, really struggling to maintain any kind of pace. It's one of my favourite BL routes, but this was by far the slowest I've ever run it. Conditions weren't great, with a strong headwind on the run-in, although it was a great help for the long climb up to the Peckforton Hills at Burwardsley. The long straight back to the finish was tough, with my lack of speed really showing: unable to stay with any groups so constantly exposed to the headwind. Kate and I then had lunch at the Pheasant, followed by a very windy walk along the Sandstone Trail.
Friday, January 25, 2019
Dash in the Dark
Race: Dash in the Dark, Llandegla, race 3 (4m/700ft)
Time/Position: 28.03 (7th from 89)
Having missed the first two races this season, it was nice to be able to squeeze this one in: I've been doing these night-time winter fell races for many years, and always enjoy them. With no speed, I just treated it as a session and tried to keep a reasonable pace ticking over. Conditions were standard: fairly mild, all the recent snow gone, moist underfoot but not unusually so. A giant chip bap at the Rose and Crown was a nice way to recover.
Time/Position: 28.03 (7th from 89)
Having missed the first two races this season, it was nice to be able to squeeze this one in: I've been doing these night-time winter fell races for many years, and always enjoy them. With no speed, I just treated it as a session and tried to keep a reasonable pace ticking over. Conditions were standard: fairly mild, all the recent snow gone, moist underfoot but not unusually so. A giant chip bap at the Rose and Crown was a nice way to recover.
Friday, January 11, 2019
Chester-Moel Famau run
You might as well make ultra training interesting, so linear runs with an obvious target make sense. I'd hatched a vague plan to run from my office to the top of Moel Famau a few months ago (it is always visible on the horizon from the Chester campus) and conditions were ideal today: cool, dry underfoot, a gentle breeze. I set off at a gentle pace, skirting the Roodee to pop out in Saltney. Then comes the worst section: along the cycle path by the main road to Broughton. Resisting the temptation to jog home, I finally left the main road and continued up the Warren along the edge of the Hawarden woods to cross the A55 by the footbridge. Then comes the Dirty Mile through Dobshill and up to Buckley, and another change of atmosphere. Moel Famau now in front, of course, and another section run hundreds upon hundreds of times before. Fast running for the drop down into Mold, then the gradual climb up to Gwernymynydd. My plan had been to wait for the usual Friday night Collie run, but I reached Cadole in two hours, quicker than anticipated, so continued up after dumping my sac in the Collie toilets. I got it into my head that sub-3 hours would be a good target, and tried to get to the summit without switching the headtorch on. Down to the Alyn, along the Leat, then the 'classic route' to the summit: reaching it in atmospheric conditions just as the last light faded (2.54 from the middle of Chester). The descent was a tad more painful, on tired legs.
Sunday, December 30, 2018
Carneddau run
Peaks: Foel Grach
Area: Carneddau, Eryri
The cloudbase was well below Allt Fawr and Foel Lus as we drove along the A55: a grim prospect indeed, although the forecast implied the possibility of a cloud inversion above 800m. So there was some optimism despite the clag as Peter and I ran along the contouring path above Aber falls to gain Cwm Afon Goch. Steady drizzle and thick clag - but this is always a nice place to be. It's been a few years since I last did the 1000m peaks race but I think I picked the right gully to gain the plateau between Yr Aryg and Bera Mawr - undoubtedly the fastest way to Llewellyn. This is a great navigation test, taking a southerly bearing until you hit Llwybr yr Aryg, the ancient path that cuts across the northern Carneddau. Not the slightest sign of a clearance, we were soaked to the skin as we plodded across the featureless hill. Satisfying to get it right, though, and a classic test of hillcraft, particularly as the track bifurcates at various points. Once on the main path, we made good progress although the weather remained awful and we were glad to reach the haven of the refuge on Foel Grach. Wet and with no sign of a clearance, we opted to shorten the circuit and pelted west down very runnable slopes to gain the mini-gorges at the top of Cwm Caseg, one of the wildest spots in North Wales. We then contoured round to gain the path towards Bethesda above Afon Wen. From here, we contoured high up to gain the little col below Moel Faban - finally out of the clag and drizzle. The ancient paths circling Moel Wnion give a superb run-in back to Aber: dried out in the Albion. Not as good, or as long, as the similar 20m circuit I did in August, but still a good way to end the year.
Area: Carneddau, Eryri
The cloudbase was well below Allt Fawr and Foel Lus as we drove along the A55: a grim prospect indeed, although the forecast implied the possibility of a cloud inversion above 800m. So there was some optimism despite the clag as Peter and I ran along the contouring path above Aber falls to gain Cwm Afon Goch. Steady drizzle and thick clag - but this is always a nice place to be. It's been a few years since I last did the 1000m peaks race but I think I picked the right gully to gain the plateau between Yr Aryg and Bera Mawr - undoubtedly the fastest way to Llewellyn. This is a great navigation test, taking a southerly bearing until you hit Llwybr yr Aryg, the ancient path that cuts across the northern Carneddau. Not the slightest sign of a clearance, we were soaked to the skin as we plodded across the featureless hill. Satisfying to get it right, though, and a classic test of hillcraft, particularly as the track bifurcates at various points. Once on the main path, we made good progress although the weather remained awful and we were glad to reach the haven of the refuge on Foel Grach. Wet and with no sign of a clearance, we opted to shorten the circuit and pelted west down very runnable slopes to gain the mini-gorges at the top of Cwm Caseg, one of the wildest spots in North Wales. We then contoured round to gain the path towards Bethesda above Afon Wen. From here, we contoured high up to gain the little col below Moel Faban - finally out of the clag and drizzle. The ancient paths circling Moel Wnion give a superb run-in back to Aber: dried out in the Albion. Not as good, or as long, as the similar 20m circuit I did in August, but still a good way to end the year.
Friday, December 28, 2018
Cylch Llangollen Round variant
Peaks: Moel y Faen, Moel y Gamelin, Moel Morfydd, Moel Fferna, Vivod Mountain
Area: Berwyn/Llangollen
A shorter version of the full round: perhaps best described as the Glyndyfrdwy loop. Last September's solo completion ranks as one of the best outings of the year: this wasn't as far, and wasn't as enjoyable (I felt sluggish and heavy all day) but it did contain all the best mountain sections and at least as much climbing as the full route. Jez and I set off from the top of the Horseshoe Pass in misty conditions, with an unfortunate headwind for the climbs over Gamelin and Morfydd. I struggled almost immediately, but then perked up for the flatter sections further west as the route loops over the ridge and takes in some superb terrain down to Carrog. The climb up Moel Fferna is very long, but is gentle throughout and we both enjoyed it. Claggy and cold on the summit, but it's becoming an increasingly familiar place despite its obscurity and relative remoteness (four times this year - compared to once or twice in the previous 30!). As we headed east, we dropped below the cloud for a while and some sunshine dappled the Vale below. This section, along the North Berwyn Way, is excellent - the third time this year we have run along it. Then it was back up into the cloud over Vivod, powered by Christmas cake, and then the long descent down to Llangollen. I refuelled with a drink, then we headed up the canal to take the tracks and paths that head east of the Abbey to eventually join the road to Pentredwr. The climax, up the Old Horseshoe Pass, is tough - rendering this version, although much shorter (21 miles?), almost as hard as the full 33 mile Round. I've cycled this in the past - it is a relentlessly steep end to a long run.
Area: Berwyn/Llangollen
A shorter version of the full round: perhaps best described as the Glyndyfrdwy loop. Last September's solo completion ranks as one of the best outings of the year: this wasn't as far, and wasn't as enjoyable (I felt sluggish and heavy all day) but it did contain all the best mountain sections and at least as much climbing as the full route. Jez and I set off from the top of the Horseshoe Pass in misty conditions, with an unfortunate headwind for the climbs over Gamelin and Morfydd. I struggled almost immediately, but then perked up for the flatter sections further west as the route loops over the ridge and takes in some superb terrain down to Carrog. The climb up Moel Fferna is very long, but is gentle throughout and we both enjoyed it. Claggy and cold on the summit, but it's becoming an increasingly familiar place despite its obscurity and relative remoteness (four times this year - compared to once or twice in the previous 30!). As we headed east, we dropped below the cloud for a while and some sunshine dappled the Vale below. This section, along the North Berwyn Way, is excellent - the third time this year we have run along it. Then it was back up into the cloud over Vivod, powered by Christmas cake, and then the long descent down to Llangollen. I refuelled with a drink, then we headed up the canal to take the tracks and paths that head east of the Abbey to eventually join the road to Pentredwr. The climax, up the Old Horseshoe Pass, is tough - rendering this version, although much shorter (21 miles?), almost as hard as the full 33 mile Round. I've cycled this in the past - it is a relentlessly steep end to a long run.
Wednesday, December 26, 2018
Round the Walls race
Race: Round the Walls Chester (4.5m)
Time/Position: 27.07 (12th from 500)
The usual Boxing Day family outing, always enjoyable - especially if conditions allow for the full race. Work continues on the Northgate bridge, but apart from that a full circuit has been possible for the past few years. I was a minute down on last year's time, when I finished 8th, and even slower than my quicker days a few years ago, but given recent form it wasn't too bad. The Roodee was a bit slippy, but the racing along the walls was as exciting as ever - Pete and myself had a grand battle, neck and neck below the clock until I pulled away a bit on the lap round the edge of the Roodee. Kate came in a little later and we then replaced all the calories.
Time/Position: 27.07 (12th from 500)
The usual Boxing Day family outing, always enjoyable - especially if conditions allow for the full race. Work continues on the Northgate bridge, but apart from that a full circuit has been possible for the past few years. I was a minute down on last year's time, when I finished 8th, and even slower than my quicker days a few years ago, but given recent form it wasn't too bad. The Roodee was a bit slippy, but the racing along the walls was as exciting as ever - Pete and myself had a grand battle, neck and neck below the clock until I pulled away a bit on the lap round the edge of the Roodee. Kate came in a little later and we then replaced all the calories.
Wednesday, December 19, 2018
Carneddau run
Peaks: Tal y Fan
Area: Carneddau, Eryri
A week on, and another attempt to maximise the difficulty of a small peak! This time, it was Tal y Fan, a hill I have been up dozens of times from every conceivable starting point - except one. So today I left the coast at Aber, another sea level start, and plotted a course for the top: quite some distance away. I felt tired throughout, and the initial climb up the old Foel Fras race route is never fun in these circumstances. It was a case of grinding it out, as heavy showers swept in from the west. Some fine sunbursts from the track, and it cleared briefly as I crested Bwlch y Ddaefaen. Then a very heavy shower, snowing higher up on Foel Fras, for a long and wet run down the road taken by the Pen fell race. Then, another change: sunshine briefly for the climb up to the ridge - which was cold and blustery (sleet) but entertaining with its rocky dips and hollows. I descended to the quarry and had intended to go all the way down to Sychnant, but changed my mind - motivated by cold hands and feet - and instead ran west along the maze of ancient tracks that spread across the northern slopes. These rarely go where you want them to (they presumably link sheepfolds and shelters together?) and it was therefore a long slog west back to Bwlch y Ddaefaen and a long descent to Aber for lunch at yr Hen Felin. Later, a six miler from the Collie - another tiring Wednesday.
Area: Carneddau, Eryri
A week on, and another attempt to maximise the difficulty of a small peak! This time, it was Tal y Fan, a hill I have been up dozens of times from every conceivable starting point - except one. So today I left the coast at Aber, another sea level start, and plotted a course for the top: quite some distance away. I felt tired throughout, and the initial climb up the old Foel Fras race route is never fun in these circumstances. It was a case of grinding it out, as heavy showers swept in from the west. Some fine sunbursts from the track, and it cleared briefly as I crested Bwlch y Ddaefaen. Then a very heavy shower, snowing higher up on Foel Fras, for a long and wet run down the road taken by the Pen fell race. Then, another change: sunshine briefly for the climb up to the ridge - which was cold and blustery (sleet) but entertaining with its rocky dips and hollows. I descended to the quarry and had intended to go all the way down to Sychnant, but changed my mind - motivated by cold hands and feet - and instead ran west along the maze of ancient tracks that spread across the northern slopes. These rarely go where you want them to (they presumably link sheepfolds and shelters together?) and it was therefore a long slog west back to Bwlch y Ddaefaen and a long descent to Aber for lunch at yr Hen Felin. Later, a six miler from the Collie - another tiring Wednesday.
Sunday, December 16, 2018
Mortimer's Forest trail race
Race: Mortimer's Forest trail race, Ludlow (9m/1500ft)
Time/Position: 1.13.11 (36th from 360)
There aren't many fell races in Wales and the Borders that I haven't done - but this is a long established event that I have somehow managed to miss in the past. It gave a very enjoyable end-of-year 'away day' with some unique features: hovering somewhere between trail and fell in tone. Shropshire races are always scenic and well-attended, and a big field left the school in Overton, south of Ludlow, on muddy tracks which led to the first major climb up Poison Bank. From the top, a long contouring section gives brilliant running around an open hillside with views over to Clee Hill. Then came the 'big dipper', three short and very steep hills that come in quick succession with no break between them. At the top of the final climb, drained of energy, comes the gradual climb back through the woods to the race highpoint. Vic and I ran together with me acting as 'pacer', and he caught me again for the final section which gives exciting running along twisting forest tracks to the abrupt finish above the school.
Time/Position: 1.13.11 (36th from 360)
There aren't many fell races in Wales and the Borders that I haven't done - but this is a long established event that I have somehow managed to miss in the past. It gave a very enjoyable end-of-year 'away day' with some unique features: hovering somewhere between trail and fell in tone. Shropshire races are always scenic and well-attended, and a big field left the school in Overton, south of Ludlow, on muddy tracks which led to the first major climb up Poison Bank. From the top, a long contouring section gives brilliant running around an open hillside with views over to Clee Hill. Then came the 'big dipper', three short and very steep hills that come in quick succession with no break between them. At the top of the final climb, drained of energy, comes the gradual climb back through the woods to the race highpoint. Vic and I ran together with me acting as 'pacer', and he caught me again for the final section which gives exciting running along twisting forest tracks to the abrupt finish above the school.
Wednesday, December 12, 2018
Conwy Valley-Carneddau run
Peaks: Pen Llithrig y Wrach
Area: Carneddau, Eryri
An exercise in making the most of a small hill. Or to put it another way: Pen Llithrig y Wrach the hard way! Early in the morning, I parked at the base of the Conwy Valley in Tal y Bont (10m above sea level), then after a mile-long warm-up started the vicious (in places) climb up to Cwm Eigiau. This contains two or three very steep hairpins interspersed with gentler sections, but gains height quickly. Above the road levels off and the terrain opens out into the glorious lower reaches of Cwm Eigiau: ahead a perfectly straight track leads to the old dam. We were last up here for the bothy trip in Easter 2017 - and there were three cars parked up this morning. Maybe closing the road would keep it quieter? Excellent running through the magnificent scenery of Cwm Eigiau. The peaks were clagged in, the head of the cwm a tad oppressive, although the cloudbase appeared to lifting very slightly. It's been quite a while since I last ran this way, although the Rab Mountain Marathon took in some of the same terrain. I took the contouring path on the eastern slopes, through some thick heather to gain the very steep and untracked climb up to Bwlch y Tri Marchog. This is a wet slog and gained a cold bwlch with the clag just above, allowing for vague views down to Ogwen. The climb up Pen Llithrig was claggy and chilly, and I didn't hang around at the summit, taking a bearing north-east to avoid the crags, before plunging east down steep scree and heather to gain Llyn Cowlyd - a wonderfully remote spot. From here, the descent to Dolgarrog is long but gloriously runnable and enjoyable. The Cowlyd path is boggy and leads eventually to the hideous pipeline, a grotesque intrusion. The track eventually leads to the top of the Pipe Dream fell race route, which gives a slippery and steep descent to Dolgarrog and Tal y Bont: three hours and an excellent, largely runnable circuit. Later, a 6m+ headtorch run from Llanarmon yn Ial. Tiring, but I told myself it was all good training for Brecon-Cardiff in February.
Area: Carneddau, Eryri
An exercise in making the most of a small hill. Or to put it another way: Pen Llithrig y Wrach the hard way! Early in the morning, I parked at the base of the Conwy Valley in Tal y Bont (10m above sea level), then after a mile-long warm-up started the vicious (in places) climb up to Cwm Eigiau. This contains two or three very steep hairpins interspersed with gentler sections, but gains height quickly. Above the road levels off and the terrain opens out into the glorious lower reaches of Cwm Eigiau: ahead a perfectly straight track leads to the old dam. We were last up here for the bothy trip in Easter 2017 - and there were three cars parked up this morning. Maybe closing the road would keep it quieter? Excellent running through the magnificent scenery of Cwm Eigiau. The peaks were clagged in, the head of the cwm a tad oppressive, although the cloudbase appeared to lifting very slightly. It's been quite a while since I last ran this way, although the Rab Mountain Marathon took in some of the same terrain. I took the contouring path on the eastern slopes, through some thick heather to gain the very steep and untracked climb up to Bwlch y Tri Marchog. This is a wet slog and gained a cold bwlch with the clag just above, allowing for vague views down to Ogwen. The climb up Pen Llithrig was claggy and chilly, and I didn't hang around at the summit, taking a bearing north-east to avoid the crags, before plunging east down steep scree and heather to gain Llyn Cowlyd - a wonderfully remote spot. From here, the descent to Dolgarrog is long but gloriously runnable and enjoyable. The Cowlyd path is boggy and leads eventually to the hideous pipeline, a grotesque intrusion. The track eventually leads to the top of the Pipe Dream fell race route, which gives a slippery and steep descent to Dolgarrog and Tal y Bont: three hours and an excellent, largely runnable circuit. Later, a 6m+ headtorch run from Llanarmon yn Ial. Tiring, but I told myself it was all good training for Brecon-Cardiff in February.
Sunday, December 09, 2018
Ty Croes border league
Race: Ty Croes/Trac Mon Anglesey 5m (Border League race 3)
Time/Position: 30.56 (41st from 261)
A tiny glimmer of an improvement today, although still a massive three minutes down on the 27.58 I ran the last time the league visited this course. As a race track, the circuit is unusual and the surface as smooth as silk. I suspect the course was a tad longer today, measured at five miles, and it was blustery in places making the two climbs hard work and inevitably having an adverse affect on times. Beautiful views over a rough sea and across to Llyn, with the occasional sunburst. My 70th Border League fixture, I think. After the race, it was straight back to Henllys for luxurious steam bath recovery. And, early next morning, a wonderful recovery jog up to Aber Falls then the mini-circuit above the valley.
Time/Position: 30.56 (41st from 261)
A tiny glimmer of an improvement today, although still a massive three minutes down on the 27.58 I ran the last time the league visited this course. As a race track, the circuit is unusual and the surface as smooth as silk. I suspect the course was a tad longer today, measured at five miles, and it was blustery in places making the two climbs hard work and inevitably having an adverse affect on times. Beautiful views over a rough sea and across to Llyn, with the occasional sunburst. My 70th Border League fixture, I think. After the race, it was straight back to Henllys for luxurious steam bath recovery. And, early next morning, a wonderful recovery jog up to Aber Falls then the mini-circuit above the valley.
Sunday, December 02, 2018
Cardington Cracker
Race: Cardington Cracker fell race (9m+/2600ft)
Time/Position: 1.37.04 (50th from 271)
Made the mistake of checking my previous times for this race before setting off. Bad move, because I ran 1.22 in 2011 and knew I wouldn't be able to get close - although I would never have predicted 15 minutes slower over a 9 mile course! It was very wet and muddy underfoot, which would account for a few minutes, but essentially this season's lack of speed really showed itself again. It's a great race, my favourite Shropshire outing, with two savagely steep climbs up the Lawley and Caer Caradoc, followed by the gradual ascent of Hope Bowdler hill and the brilliant run-in along a vague ridge back to the village. Myself and Vic ran it together, which was good. It never felt uncomfortable, just slow. The weather was dank and drizzly, so a quick recovery pint of Shropshire Lad in the fifteenth century Royal Oak was particularly welcome.
Time/Position: 1.37.04 (50th from 271)
Made the mistake of checking my previous times for this race before setting off. Bad move, because I ran 1.22 in 2011 and knew I wouldn't be able to get close - although I would never have predicted 15 minutes slower over a 9 mile course! It was very wet and muddy underfoot, which would account for a few minutes, but essentially this season's lack of speed really showed itself again. It's a great race, my favourite Shropshire outing, with two savagely steep climbs up the Lawley and Caer Caradoc, followed by the gradual ascent of Hope Bowdler hill and the brilliant run-in along a vague ridge back to the village. Myself and Vic ran it together, which was good. It never felt uncomfortable, just slow. The weather was dank and drizzly, so a quick recovery pint of Shropshire Lad in the fifteenth century Royal Oak was particularly welcome.
Saturday, November 17, 2018
Tryfan climbing
Peak/Crag: Tryfan (East Face)
Routes: North Buttress (VD:led p.2,4), Terrace Wall Variant (VD:led p.2)
A cloud inversion looked like a possibility this morning. It is always worth gambling in these circumstances, and I know from past experience that the East Face of Tryfan is the most perfect place in these conditions, so Vic and I headed up from a drizzly and dank Ogwen at 9am. Thick mist as we trudged up towards the Heather Terrace where a slight lightening in the cloud gave us hope. Then, just as we got to the start of Grooved Arete, we popped through the cloud. Stunning views, some of the best I have experienced in over 30 years of Snowdonian activity. Teams were already on Grooved Arete, so we went for North Buttress, which was one of the first climbs I did: 1989 perhaps. The first pitch goes up a tricky groove, then I led the second, which gives very pleasant climbing up a delicate rib to a groove. It is all typical Tryfan climbing - easy and relaxed, all the time above a spectacular blanket of cloud. Sadly, the route then becomes broken and a long grassy section leads up to the Terrace Wall. It was windy here - quite cold too. So we settled for Terrace Wall Variant, which is quite hard to find. I have a vague feeling that I have done this before, and I think we struggled with the route-finding then too. It goes up a slabby crack to a ledge, then a steep wall. Vic led this pitch, then I led the traverse right in a fine position, to the Grove of Bollards (the spikes at the top of Belle Vue Bastion - a route I did a few years ago). Then a steeper little groove to the top. All this time, the cloud inversion had boiled away below, gradually dissipating from a thick bank of cloud enveloping the whole of Ogwen to tendrils of mist peeling away from Bwlch Caseg Fraith. We took the skirting path to the top of Tryfan for a sunny but cold and windy lunch. Then it was down the West Face for a long and circuitous route back in glorious late autumn sunshine: all the peaks crystal clear.
Routes: North Buttress (VD:led p.2,4), Terrace Wall Variant (VD:led p.2)
A cloud inversion looked like a possibility this morning. It is always worth gambling in these circumstances, and I know from past experience that the East Face of Tryfan is the most perfect place in these conditions, so Vic and I headed up from a drizzly and dank Ogwen at 9am. Thick mist as we trudged up towards the Heather Terrace where a slight lightening in the cloud gave us hope. Then, just as we got to the start of Grooved Arete, we popped through the cloud. Stunning views, some of the best I have experienced in over 30 years of Snowdonian activity. Teams were already on Grooved Arete, so we went for North Buttress, which was one of the first climbs I did: 1989 perhaps. The first pitch goes up a tricky groove, then I led the second, which gives very pleasant climbing up a delicate rib to a groove. It is all typical Tryfan climbing - easy and relaxed, all the time above a spectacular blanket of cloud. Sadly, the route then becomes broken and a long grassy section leads up to the Terrace Wall. It was windy here - quite cold too. So we settled for Terrace Wall Variant, which is quite hard to find. I have a vague feeling that I have done this before, and I think we struggled with the route-finding then too. It goes up a slabby crack to a ledge, then a steep wall. Vic led this pitch, then I led the traverse right in a fine position, to the Grove of Bollards (the spikes at the top of Belle Vue Bastion - a route I did a few years ago). Then a steeper little groove to the top. All this time, the cloud inversion had boiled away below, gradually dissipating from a thick bank of cloud enveloping the whole of Ogwen to tendrils of mist peeling away from Bwlch Caseg Fraith. We took the skirting path to the top of Tryfan for a sunny but cold and windy lunch. Then it was down the West Face for a long and circuitous route back in glorious late autumn sunshine: all the peaks crystal clear.
Sunday, November 11, 2018
Upton border league
Race: Chester 'Spring' 5m (Border League race 2)
Time/Position: 31.14 (86th from 441)
The unwelcome milestones continue to fall. This was my slowest five mile race in 20 years of running, and my worst league position since around 2006. My flight from West Africa landed in Manchester at midnight, and I thought that if I woke in time I would do this - which takes the Spring 5 course on a route I know very well indeed. In fact, I calculate I have done it over 100 times as it was my regular lunchtime run when I worked at Kingsway. As a race, I have also done it many times but have never found it particularly quick, especially when it gets a bit muddy: but I didn't expect to be quite this slow, despite the circumstances and relaxed approach. No speedwork all year, the flight, and the continuing after effects of the 50 miler are my only excuses: feeble, given that everybody else had raced yesterday and Friday!
Time/Position: 31.14 (86th from 441)
The unwelcome milestones continue to fall. This was my slowest five mile race in 20 years of running, and my worst league position since around 2006. My flight from West Africa landed in Manchester at midnight, and I thought that if I woke in time I would do this - which takes the Spring 5 course on a route I know very well indeed. In fact, I calculate I have done it over 100 times as it was my regular lunchtime run when I worked at Kingsway. As a race, I have also done it many times but have never found it particularly quick, especially when it gets a bit muddy: but I didn't expect to be quite this slow, despite the circumstances and relaxed approach. No speedwork all year, the flight, and the continuing after effects of the 50 miler are my only excuses: feeble, given that everybody else had raced yesterday and Friday!
Tuesday, November 06, 2018
Gambia run
Not an obvious place to run, but I actually saw somebody jogging along the road towards the airport as the sun came up first thing this morning. After breakfast, I took a bush taxi through Yundum to Abuko and then spent a very pleasant few hours birding - covering the entire reserve. I then decided to jog back along the main road, past multiple little shops and all the hustle and bustle of West African life. Next day, it was into Senegal: through Kafountine and down the Casamance river to the very remote animist island of Kailo.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)