Peaks: Uisangbong (540m), Yongchulbong (571m)
Area: Bukhansan, South Korea
Although only small, Yongchulbong's attractive profile and interesting, scrambly ascent just about qualified it as the 50th overseas peak of my 50th year. Criteria
for selection: nothing on the British mainland, nothing I’d done before, all had to
be notable in some way. A few were technical, some remote, some shapely, some obscure, some popular. The 50 were as follows:
Feb: Beenkeragh, Carrauntoohill, Cnoc na Peiste, Brandon, Purple Mountain (Reeks/Dingle, Ireland)
Mar: Roque del Conde, Roque Imoque, Roque los Brezos, Alto de Guajara, Pico Viejo, Montana Guama, Pico la Vera, Risco Blanco, Pico la Mesa (Tenerife)
Apr: Zoljin Kuk, Pasji Klanac, Babin Kuk, Crni Vrh, Anica Kuk (Velebit, Croatia)
May: Clach Glas, Blaven, Bidean Druim nan Ramh, Sgurr nan Eag (Skye)
Jul: Corno Neri, Pizzo Recastello, Pizzo di Coca, Monte Visolo, Presolana Occidentale, Monte Misma (Italian Alps)
Jul: Gigilos, Volakias, Psari, Mavri, Melindaou, Strifomadhi, Psilafi, Psiloritis, Stolistra, Agathias, Vouloumenou, Skoutsio Korifi (Crete)
Sep: Tskhakvzagari, Koruldi, Chubedishi, Zuruldi (Caucasus, Georgia)
Nov: Dobongsan, Podae, Jubong, Baegundae, Yongchulbong (Bukhansan, South Korea)
I'd spent most of the day getting as close to the North Korean border as I could by public transport (the DMZ was closed for the whole week I was in Korea). I got to the end of the line at Munsan and walked over the river for a view to the north, then took the metro all the way back to Gupabal where - after eight freshly steamed (jjin-mandu) dumplings - I set off from Bukhansanseong to Uisangbong. It was late, after 3pm, and this proved an inspired choice as it is short but very steep and interesting, bordering on via ferrata terrain in numerous places with ropes, open rock and slabby sections. Both these peaks are impressive spires from the road below and the route is ranked 'expert' by the local grading system. I got to the summit in 31.45 which proved to be an annoying seven seconds slower than Strava's fastest known time (partly because I had to negotiate a group of Korean soldiers on the final staircase to the summit - if I'd realised I might have pushed a little harder). It was a beautiful spot, with soft afternoon sunshine, quite a contrast from my previous two visits. Delightful views over to Baegundae and the autumnal wooded valleys below. On the other side, the endless sprawl of northern Seoul emerging from the haze. The terrain was less awkward for the continuation ridge down to the col of Gasagangdamman gate. From here, more rocky sections led to the higher peak of Yongchulbong; and the satisfaction of a memorable year of mountain activity. I spent a bit of time taking it all in, and had the entire mountain to myself which must be pretty unusual. The light and views of the wooded ridges were glorious, and very distinctive. Then it was back down the little rocky pitches to the gate above the Gungnyeongsa temple with its huge golden buddha. I'd already visited that valley on my Baegundae traverse, so instead I took the next valley down to Baekhwasa. It was a little late, but I was still amazed by this. I saw nobody at all, and the path was even a little indistinct in places! Beautiful woodland scenery again, though, and I kept up a decent pace. After I got back to the main Bukhansanseong I decided to forego the bus and run all the way back along the suburban roads to the metro station at Gupabal. This worked very well (although I had a nosebleed) and I finally stopped for makgeolli and tissues at a little store near the station.
Wednesday, November 06, 2019
Tuesday, November 05, 2019
Baegundae traverse
Peaks: Baegundae (836m)
Area: Bukhansan, South Korea
As the highest peak in the Bukhansan, Baegundae was a must, although I didn't realise it could be conveniently traversed until I was on it. I'd enjoyed a few urban runs around Seoul since my Dobongsan outing (and the second city of Busan), but was looking forward to returning to the mountains. Sadly, the peaks were shrouded in mist as I entered the park after a short tube and bus ride: this was the only time I saw them claggy and was a bit unlucky. It was atmospheric, however, as I ran up the metalled road which gives an easy introduction. Above, the direct route is steep, just as steep as Dobongsan, with just as much ironmongery. Being midweek, and early, it was much quieter. Large rock walls of Yeomchobong towered above as height is gained, the mist lending an atmospheric feel, then steps lead to the pronounced Baekwun Bongammun with mist swirling around. From here, a surprisingly steep finish up the rocky ridge, which would be proper mountaineering if it wasn't for the fences! If you ignored the crowds, and the ironmongery, the weather rendered it distinctly Alpine - cold and misty. Around 40 mins to the top from the end of the tarmac. A brief and spectacular clearance from the summit, which I shared with only two or three others - which must be about as empty as it ever gets. The clearance continued, with views over the superb granite dome of Insubong, as I descended back to the Baekwun pass. Instead of continuing the direct descent of the traverse line, I prolonged my time up here (as I was enjoying myself) taking the obvious traverse path which takes a wonderful panoramic catwalk just below the summit of Maengyondae. The sun started to peek through, and I reached another obvious col (Yongammun, below its eponymous peak, which was now bathed in glorious sunshine). I opted to cut left here - on an amazingly empty path through beautiful woodland, its autumnal colours set off to perfection by the sun. It was developing into a stunning afternoon, and I wished I was still up on the peaks. Instead, I ran down to the large Doseonsa temple complex, feeling good, and continued down to Ui and the eastern entrance to the park (1.48 or so for the full traverse). I had gimbap for lunch, then got the metro from Bukhansanul to Digital Media City - which was quite a contrast!
Area: Bukhansan, South Korea
As the highest peak in the Bukhansan, Baegundae was a must, although I didn't realise it could be conveniently traversed until I was on it. I'd enjoyed a few urban runs around Seoul since my Dobongsan outing (and the second city of Busan), but was looking forward to returning to the mountains. Sadly, the peaks were shrouded in mist as I entered the park after a short tube and bus ride: this was the only time I saw them claggy and was a bit unlucky. It was atmospheric, however, as I ran up the metalled road which gives an easy introduction. Above, the direct route is steep, just as steep as Dobongsan, with just as much ironmongery. Being midweek, and early, it was much quieter. Large rock walls of Yeomchobong towered above as height is gained, the mist lending an atmospheric feel, then steps lead to the pronounced Baekwun Bongammun with mist swirling around. From here, a surprisingly steep finish up the rocky ridge, which would be proper mountaineering if it wasn't for the fences! If you ignored the crowds, and the ironmongery, the weather rendered it distinctly Alpine - cold and misty. Around 40 mins to the top from the end of the tarmac. A brief and spectacular clearance from the summit, which I shared with only two or three others - which must be about as empty as it ever gets. The clearance continued, with views over the superb granite dome of Insubong, as I descended back to the Baekwun pass. Instead of continuing the direct descent of the traverse line, I prolonged my time up here (as I was enjoying myself) taking the obvious traverse path which takes a wonderful panoramic catwalk just below the summit of Maengyondae. The sun started to peek through, and I reached another obvious col (Yongammun, below its eponymous peak, which was now bathed in glorious sunshine). I opted to cut left here - on an amazingly empty path through beautiful woodland, its autumnal colours set off to perfection by the sun. It was developing into a stunning afternoon, and I wished I was still up on the peaks. Instead, I ran down to the large Doseonsa temple complex, feeling good, and continued down to Ui and the eastern entrance to the park (1.48 or so for the full traverse). I had gimbap for lunch, then got the metro from Bukhansanul to Digital Media City - which was quite a contrast!
Saturday, November 02, 2019
Dobongsan
Peaks: Jaubong (740m), Jubong, Podae
Area: Dobongsan, Bukhansan, South Korea
The world's busiest national park, with five million visitors a year, Bukhansan is just a metro ride from the centre of Seoul. I was curious to see it at the weekend, as I have always felt Snowdon has a case for the world's most climbed mountain, and only the Tatra has come close in my previous three decades of mountain travel. Having said that, I opted for Dobongsan, the northern area, as I felt the crowds on Baegundae may just have been too overwhelming. It was certainly a novelty: I've climbed multiple thousands of peaks, but nothing quite like this. After leaving the metro station, some very impressive peaks fringe the skyline. Then a warren of market stalls, all selling fantastic food for hiking picnics: I went for the classic, gimbap with a side of kimchi. At the entrance is an Alpine museum, which I poked round in happily before starting a low jogging pace upwards, weaving through hundreds (thousands actually) of local hikers. The route from Dobong is surprisingly steep, but mostly runnable, and takes a mixture of rocky staircases and forest paths to gain an impressive slab of granite (Madangbawi) with views over northern Seoul. It was a tad hazy but dry and warm, with beautiful autumnal colours, the best time of year to be here. Above was a vague wooded ridge, with the superb south face of Seoninbong to the right (climbers were on the good looking beige granite, highly reminiscent of Cornwall, Arran or Chamonix). From here, an actual staircase leads up to a narrow col: all very novel. If the hardware wasn't there, it would actually be a fairly challenging peak, perhaps a grade II scramble. As it is, the main peak involves a steep final climb facilitated by metal barriers: fairly exposed at the top (56 mins from the gimbap stall) and a small summit rammed with hikers. It was all pretty unique, as I had hoped it might be. Views down to Seoul were rather hazy, but the surrounding ridges were beautiful: outcrops of granite and dwarf trees, like a Japanese landscape painting. I fought my way back through the crowds then headed up a nearby knoll for a memorable lunch of homemade gimbap and kimchi: outstanding, although perhaps not the ideal running food, and my stomach rebelled for the jog across to the neighbouring - much quieter - peak of Jubong. This was a huge contrast, although not far to the south, and some open rock gained the summit. Then it was back to the knoll, and what I hoped was the ridgeline to Podae. I started up this, but was essentially prevented from doing so by a ranger, who seemed to suggest it was verboten. Instead, I took a meandering alternative, which regained the ridge and led to Podae: which has a kind of viewing platform at the summit, like something from an African safari. I took a direct line down steep steps with lovely autumnal scenes; this valley was steep-sided and much less busy, until the Manworam temple is reached. Soft buddhist chants then accompanied the rest of the run and I rejoined the ascent path lower down. After a rest in a truly delightful glade, spectacular autumn colours, I did as the locals did: a beer in a convenience store, and then a truly memorable hour as I drank a bottle of makgeolli, the local raw rice wine with a chalky white colour, in a kind of beer garden with multiple tables. Seeing me drinking the local brew, two different people shared their food with me as everybody relaxed after their Saturday hike.
Area: Dobongsan, Bukhansan, South Korea
The world's busiest national park, with five million visitors a year, Bukhansan is just a metro ride from the centre of Seoul. I was curious to see it at the weekend, as I have always felt Snowdon has a case for the world's most climbed mountain, and only the Tatra has come close in my previous three decades of mountain travel. Having said that, I opted for Dobongsan, the northern area, as I felt the crowds on Baegundae may just have been too overwhelming. It was certainly a novelty: I've climbed multiple thousands of peaks, but nothing quite like this. After leaving the metro station, some very impressive peaks fringe the skyline. Then a warren of market stalls, all selling fantastic food for hiking picnics: I went for the classic, gimbap with a side of kimchi. At the entrance is an Alpine museum, which I poked round in happily before starting a low jogging pace upwards, weaving through hundreds (thousands actually) of local hikers. The route from Dobong is surprisingly steep, but mostly runnable, and takes a mixture of rocky staircases and forest paths to gain an impressive slab of granite (Madangbawi) with views over northern Seoul. It was a tad hazy but dry and warm, with beautiful autumnal colours, the best time of year to be here. Above was a vague wooded ridge, with the superb south face of Seoninbong to the right (climbers were on the good looking beige granite, highly reminiscent of Cornwall, Arran or Chamonix). From here, an actual staircase leads up to a narrow col: all very novel. If the hardware wasn't there, it would actually be a fairly challenging peak, perhaps a grade II scramble. As it is, the main peak involves a steep final climb facilitated by metal barriers: fairly exposed at the top (56 mins from the gimbap stall) and a small summit rammed with hikers. It was all pretty unique, as I had hoped it might be. Views down to Seoul were rather hazy, but the surrounding ridges were beautiful: outcrops of granite and dwarf trees, like a Japanese landscape painting. I fought my way back through the crowds then headed up a nearby knoll for a memorable lunch of homemade gimbap and kimchi: outstanding, although perhaps not the ideal running food, and my stomach rebelled for the jog across to the neighbouring - much quieter - peak of Jubong. This was a huge contrast, although not far to the south, and some open rock gained the summit. Then it was back to the knoll, and what I hoped was the ridgeline to Podae. I started up this, but was essentially prevented from doing so by a ranger, who seemed to suggest it was verboten. Instead, I took a meandering alternative, which regained the ridge and led to Podae: which has a kind of viewing platform at the summit, like something from an African safari. I took a direct line down steep steps with lovely autumnal scenes; this valley was steep-sided and much less busy, until the Manworam temple is reached. Soft buddhist chants then accompanied the rest of the run and I rejoined the ascent path lower down. After a rest in a truly delightful glade, spectacular autumn colours, I did as the locals did: a beer in a convenience store, and then a truly memorable hour as I drank a bottle of makgeolli, the local raw rice wine with a chalky white colour, in a kind of beer garden with multiple tables. Seeing me drinking the local brew, two different people shared their food with me as everybody relaxed after their Saturday hike.
Saturday, October 26, 2019
Cardiff Parkrun
'Race': Cardiff Parkrun (5k)
Time/Position: 18.09 (9th from 405 [1st age-graded])
A weekend in Cardiff coinciding with dire weather: torrential and continuous rain, with the Taff very high indeed (although not quite over its banks, which was fortunate as this route takes the Taff trail). I ran north along the trail initially for a warm-up, having done 44 miles of it during the Brecon-Cardiff ultra this February. The race itself takes the trail south into Blackweir Fields and Bute Park - the reverse of the Cardiff 10k (which I remember fondly from 2010, as it was the first time I'd represented North Wales and what was then a big pb, 34.45). By contrast, this was my worst position ever on a parkrun, although that is more a reflection of the strength of the field than the time, which I was fairly pleased with. Potentially, a very fast course - flat throughout, although wet and slippery today.
Time/Position: 18.09 (9th from 405 [1st age-graded])
A weekend in Cardiff coinciding with dire weather: torrential and continuous rain, with the Taff very high indeed (although not quite over its banks, which was fortunate as this route takes the Taff trail). I ran north along the trail initially for a warm-up, having done 44 miles of it during the Brecon-Cardiff ultra this February. The race itself takes the trail south into Blackweir Fields and Bute Park - the reverse of the Cardiff 10k (which I remember fondly from 2010, as it was the first time I'd represented North Wales and what was then a big pb, 34.45). By contrast, this was my worst position ever on a parkrun, although that is more a reflection of the strength of the field than the time, which I was fairly pleased with. Potentially, a very fast course - flat throughout, although wet and slippery today.
Monday, October 21, 2019
Carneddau run
Peaks: Drum, Foel Fras
Area: Carneddau, Eryri
After dropping Kate off in Llandudno, I drove to Aber and began the familiar climb up the road towards Drum. This is a 5 mile constant climb, and I felt tired throughout. Progress was slow, and the weather worse than forecast: claggy with some drizzle. I have done this climb many, many times however, and always enjoy it. The top of Drum was a little hostile, although I've been up in far worse, and this continued for the long haul up Foel Fras. From here, I decided to drop down the very awkward slopes down to the upper Cwm Afon Goch. This is a wild and trackless place, with tussocks and bog, and no path. Even lower down this tight cwm is awkward. Above the falls, I picked up the pace and continued the run all the way down to the coast and Menai Strait: 20k, just over two hours.
Area: Carneddau, Eryri
After dropping Kate off in Llandudno, I drove to Aber and began the familiar climb up the road towards Drum. This is a 5 mile constant climb, and I felt tired throughout. Progress was slow, and the weather worse than forecast: claggy with some drizzle. I have done this climb many, many times however, and always enjoy it. The top of Drum was a little hostile, although I've been up in far worse, and this continued for the long haul up Foel Fras. From here, I decided to drop down the very awkward slopes down to the upper Cwm Afon Goch. This is a wild and trackless place, with tussocks and bog, and no path. Even lower down this tight cwm is awkward. Above the falls, I picked up the pace and continued the run all the way down to the coast and Menai Strait: 20k, just over two hours.
Saturday, October 19, 2019
Colwyn Bay XC
Race: Colwyn Bay 6m+ (North Wales XC league, race 2)
Time/Position: 41.40 (34th from 181 [3rd V45])
I have fond memories of a one-off fell race called the Fox Trot that was staged across these hills (a mile inland from Eirias Park) in 2010. Staging an XC fixture here was inevitably going to put it in the 'hilly' category and having missed it last year I was keen to sample the course. We have had a very wet October, so the ground was saturated, very muddy in places. I went for spikes, which weren't ideal on the cobbled track along the base of the valley after an initial loop to spread out the field. The race then takes on a long climb, more akin to a fell race than a standard XC, very steep in places before weaving through woods to gain a farm then a glorious descent with the sea in front. I remembered this from the Fox Trot - and for XC it really helps recovery before the second lap. I tend to struggle with the constant changes of pace that characterise most XC courses so quite enjoyed the unusual nature of this route. It was also, of course, a mud-bath throughout.
Time/Position: 41.40 (34th from 181 [3rd V45])
I have fond memories of a one-off fell race called the Fox Trot that was staged across these hills (a mile inland from Eirias Park) in 2010. Staging an XC fixture here was inevitably going to put it in the 'hilly' category and having missed it last year I was keen to sample the course. We have had a very wet October, so the ground was saturated, very muddy in places. I went for spikes, which weren't ideal on the cobbled track along the base of the valley after an initial loop to spread out the field. The race then takes on a long climb, more akin to a fell race than a standard XC, very steep in places before weaving through woods to gain a farm then a glorious descent with the sea in front. I remembered this from the Fox Trot - and for XC it really helps recovery before the second lap. I tend to struggle with the constant changes of pace that characterise most XC courses so quite enjoyed the unusual nature of this route. It was also, of course, a mud-bath throughout.
Sunday, October 13, 2019
Caernarfon 10k
Race: Caernarfon 10k (Borders League, Race 1)
Time/Position: 37.22 (55th from 355)
The standard of the league is definitely going up. Just a few years ago, I finished 13th with a time of 35.52 on this course, probably my favourite of all the BL routes. Today, 50 runners went under 37 minutes. As such, I am quite pleased with the time, as it is more or less where I want to be at the moment, although I'm hoping to be 90 seconds quicker by my 50th birthday in May. I would (just) have finished first V50 today, as it happens, but was 6th or 7th V45! We set off along the seafront, which I always like with views to Yr Eifl and the Menai Strait, I felt more comfortable than I have done, after a little bit of recent speedwork as I transition from ultras and mountaineering. With the hilly return through the interior, I couldn't quite stick to sub-6 minute mile pace and slipped back a tad, although never too disastrously. Very wet towards the finish, and torrential shortly afterwards.
Time/Position: 37.22 (55th from 355)
The standard of the league is definitely going up. Just a few years ago, I finished 13th with a time of 35.52 on this course, probably my favourite of all the BL routes. Today, 50 runners went under 37 minutes. As such, I am quite pleased with the time, as it is more or less where I want to be at the moment, although I'm hoping to be 90 seconds quicker by my 50th birthday in May. I would (just) have finished first V50 today, as it happens, but was 6th or 7th V45! We set off along the seafront, which I always like with views to Yr Eifl and the Menai Strait, I felt more comfortable than I have done, after a little bit of recent speedwork as I transition from ultras and mountaineering. With the hilly return through the interior, I couldn't quite stick to sub-6 minute mile pace and slipped back a tad, although never too disastrously. Very wet towards the finish, and torrential shortly afterwards.
Tuesday, September 24, 2019
Wirral MT Series, Arrowe Park
Race: Wirral Multi Terrain Series (Arrowe Park 7k: Race 4)
Time/Position: 28.14 (32nd from 196)
I find it hard to believe I won the V45 category in this series in 2015. The standard of competition is now frighteningly high: even if I had better form I think I'd be struggling to place well. The 4th or 5th time I've done this particular fixture, and perhaps the muddiest after a day of rain. Wore my old shoes, which wasn't a good idea, sliding around on the fields in places. I always enjoy it though, as the light fades through the woods on the second lap.
Time/Position: 28.14 (32nd from 196)
I find it hard to believe I won the V45 category in this series in 2015. The standard of competition is now frighteningly high: even if I had better form I think I'd be struggling to place well. The 4th or 5th time I've done this particular fixture, and perhaps the muddiest after a day of rain. Wore my old shoes, which wasn't a good idea, sliding around on the fields in places. I always enjoy it though, as the light fades through the woods on the second lap.
Saturday, September 21, 2019
Wepre parkrun
'Race': Wepre Parkrun
Time/Position: 20.20 (4th from 136)
Not quite as slow as I was last time (a full 5 seconds quicker!) but still my second slowest 5k ever. After the Collie run yesterday, and with the Caucasus still in my legs, it all felt a bit of a struggle on the second lap.
Time/Position: 20.20 (4th from 136)
Not quite as slow as I was last time (a full 5 seconds quicker!) but still my second slowest 5k ever. After the Collie run yesterday, and with the Caucasus still in my legs, it all felt a bit of a struggle on the second lap.
Monday, September 16, 2019
Chkuthi and Zuruldi
Peaks: Kakhri (1952m), Zuruldi (2463m), Mentashi (2455m)
Area: Caucasus, Svaneti, Georgia
The sheer scale of the vertical intervals, combined with the altitude, had taken it out of me a bit. Shame, because I quite fancied trying to get up Pik Komsomol today, which I could see from my balcony. After another mammoth breakfast, courtesy of Nana at the guesthouse (chatting to two Spanish climbers this morning - they hadn't got up a single mountain in the two weeks they'd spent in Svaneti). The morning was stunning: crystal clear, and the air was cool as I took the tracks east of Mestia. The start of this route is shared with the famous Mestia-Ushguli four day trek, so several couples with ludicrously huge rucsacks were struggling upwards as I skipped past in my running shoes. Why anybody would do this these days is completely beyond me, with accommodation options everywhere and no obvious need for much equipment, but you see it all the time - I haven't a clue what they deem necessary. Anyway, the track gave way to delightful meadows and apple orchards, and the views up to the Chalaadi glacier and Ushba were predictably breath-taking, a wonderful backdrop which constantly stayed in view. After a steep section through forest, the path diverged, and I guessed the route to Chkuthi took a narrow path across a meadow to a lovely little ridge poised above a ridiculously scenic side valley. This led up towards Banguriani peak and was like something from a fantasy novel: autumnal colours in the woodland, little fields, some Svan farmers hay-baling with wooden sledges, rushing torrents. I continued upwards, not entirely sure of the onward route, and stopped to admire the view to Ushba. Round a corner to the end of the Chkuthi ridge at Kakhri, which guards the entrance to the Adishi valley. After gaining the ridge and views east, I descended all the way back to Mestia and took the cable car up to Hatsivali. Sadly the continuation chairlift up Zuruldi was broken, so a horrible track through the woods was in order. This was the lowpoint of the trip as I was tired and, unlike everything else I'd done, it was tedious and pointless. It just felt like an Alpine ski resort. At the top, however, was a ridge with low woodland and more delightful meadows. I walked eastwards to the highpoint (which is clearly not the mast
Area: Caucasus, Svaneti, Georgia
The sheer scale of the vertical intervals, combined with the altitude, had taken it out of me a bit. Shame, because I quite fancied trying to get up Pik Komsomol today, which I could see from my balcony. After another mammoth breakfast, courtesy of Nana at the guesthouse (chatting to two Spanish climbers this morning - they hadn't got up a single mountain in the two weeks they'd spent in Svaneti). The morning was stunning: crystal clear, and the air was cool as I took the tracks east of Mestia. The start of this route is shared with the famous Mestia-Ushguli four day trek, so several couples with ludicrously huge rucsacks were struggling upwards as I skipped past in my running shoes. Why anybody would do this these days is completely beyond me, with accommodation options everywhere and no obvious need for much equipment, but you see it all the time - I haven't a clue what they deem necessary. Anyway, the track gave way to delightful meadows and apple orchards, and the views up to the Chalaadi glacier and Ushba were predictably breath-taking, a wonderful backdrop which constantly stayed in view. After a steep section through forest, the path diverged, and I guessed the route to Chkuthi took a narrow path across a meadow to a lovely little ridge poised above a ridiculously scenic side valley. This led up towards Banguriani peak and was like something from a fantasy novel: autumnal colours in the woodland, little fields, some Svan farmers hay-baling with wooden sledges, rushing torrents. I continued upwards, not entirely sure of the onward route, and stopped to admire the view to Ushba. Round a corner to the end of the Chkuthi ridge at Kakhri, which guards the entrance to the Adishi valley. After gaining the ridge and views east, I descended all the way back to Mestia and took the cable car up to Hatsivali. Sadly the continuation chairlift up Zuruldi was broken, so a horrible track through the woods was in order. This was the lowpoint of the trip as I was tired and, unlike everything else I'd done, it was tedious and pointless. It just felt like an Alpine ski resort. At the top, however, was a ridge with low woodland and more delightful meadows. I walked eastwards to the highpoint (which is clearly not the mast
Sunday, September 15, 2019
Chubedishi
Peaks: Chubedishi (3015m)
Area: Ushguli, Caucasus, Svaneti, Georgia
Ushguli is off the scale, a truly stunning location - Europe's highest settlement (if you think this is Europe, that is). Points of comparison in my own experience are the remoter parts of Nepal, or perhaps the Atlas Mountains: ancient organic stone buildings, narrow muddy alleys, livestock, high peaks, and of course the medieval Svan towers that reach their apogee here. I didn't think I'd be able to get up here, but it was relatively simple - a two hour mashrutka journey through stunning villages and landscapes until the road gives way to a bone-shaking dirt track above the Enguri gorge. I'd watched the film 'Dede' (set in Ushguli) the night before, so it was all rather exciting as we drove up the higher valley with the stupendous 5100m wall of Shkhara (Georgia's highest peak) just emerging from the mist at the valley's end. On either side of the upper village (there are four tiny hamlets up here) were two peaks. The driver then told us we had longer in the village than I'd expected, so suddenly an enormous potential bonus presented itself - perhaps I could get up a peak in this stunning location. I had no details but the right-hand (northerly) mountain looked the most feasible, with a ridge leading to the summit (unlike the enormously bulky mountain opposite). I walked through the atmospheric alleys of the upper village (although this is the most touristy of the four), and spied a path off to the right. This did indeed lead up the obvious forepeak, and after a steep haul, to my delight it seemed to continue up to the grassy ridge. It was perfect: a notable peak, very obvious from the village, in the most wonderful imaginable location - an excellent addition to the '50@50'. I trotted up the ridge, with wild views down to the right, Zeshko, and the Russian border - completely wild and uninhabited. To the left, the trekkers valley up to the Shkhara glacier. The peak itself kept emerging then disappearing, as well (perhaps) as Dykh-Tau beyond. Once or twice, it peeked through a hole in dark clouds - absolutely stunning, reminding me of the cinematography in 'Dede'. I left my sac below the much steeper summit cone (still grassy). This necessitated a detour contouring right to gain the final summit ridge, which was broad and led to a large cairn. Fabulous views, despite the cloud and mist, with grassy ridges in the foreground and savage ice peaks beyond. On the descent, which was quick and easy, wonderful views over Ushguli and its valley. I then had plenty of time to wander round all the villages - the bottom two are entirely undeveloped, still in their original medieval state. The top one has some modest cafes, at one of which I enjoyed a beer with ojakhuri (pork, chicken, chilli, butter, potatoes). Later, I had ostri and chvistari after the bumpy return to Mestia.
Ushguli is off the scale, a truly stunning location - Europe's highest settlement (if you think this is Europe, that is). Points of comparison in my own experience are the remoter parts of Nepal, or perhaps the Atlas Mountains: ancient organic stone buildings, narrow muddy alleys, livestock, high peaks, and of course the medieval Svan towers that reach their apogee here. I didn't think I'd be able to get up here, but it was relatively simple - a two hour mashrutka journey through stunning villages and landscapes until the road gives way to a bone-shaking dirt track above the Enguri gorge. I'd watched the film 'Dede' (set in Ushguli) the night before, so it was all rather exciting as we drove up the higher valley with the stupendous 5100m wall of Shkhara (Georgia's highest peak) just emerging from the mist at the valley's end. On either side of the upper village (there are four tiny hamlets up here) were two peaks. The driver then told us we had longer in the village than I'd expected, so suddenly an enormous potential bonus presented itself - perhaps I could get up a peak in this stunning location. I had no details but the right-hand (northerly) mountain looked the most feasible, with a ridge leading to the summit (unlike the enormously bulky mountain opposite). I walked through the atmospheric alleys of the upper village (although this is the most touristy of the four), and spied a path off to the right. This did indeed lead up the obvious forepeak, and after a steep haul, to my delight it seemed to continue up to the grassy ridge. It was perfect: a notable peak, very obvious from the village, in the most wonderful imaginable location - an excellent addition to the '50@50'. I trotted up the ridge, with wild views down to the right, Zeshko, and the Russian border - completely wild and uninhabited. To the left, the trekkers valley up to the Shkhara glacier. The peak itself kept emerging then disappearing, as well (perhaps) as Dykh-Tau beyond. Once or twice, it peeked through a hole in dark clouds - absolutely stunning, reminding me of the cinematography in 'Dede'. I left my sac below the much steeper summit cone (still grassy). This necessitated a detour contouring right to gain the final summit ridge, which was broad and led to a large cairn. Fabulous views, despite the cloud and mist, with grassy ridges in the foreground and savage ice peaks beyond. On the descent, which was quick and easy, wonderful views over Ushguli and its valley. I then had plenty of time to wander round all the villages - the bottom two are entirely undeveloped, still in their original medieval state. The top one has some modest cafes, at one of which I enjoyed a beer with ojakhuri (pork, chicken, chilli, butter, potatoes). Later, I had ostri and chvistari after the bumpy return to Mestia.
Saturday, September 14, 2019
Koruldi to Guli Pass
Peaks: Tskhakvzagari (2359m), Koruldi (3328m)
Area: Caucasus, Svaneti, Georgia
I have wanted to visit Svaneti for many years: it has always seemed the archetypal hidden mountain land, high up in the Caucasus. It's a fascinating region more generally, which I scratched the surface of in previous brief trips: 2011 and 2012. After a night in Kutaisi, I took the long Mashrutka journey through Zugdidi along the Abkhazian border to the Engudi gorge. Above here, eventually, the characteristic medieval towers of Svaneti mark the entrance to this magical environment - fields and fertile valleys, huge peaks. I stayed in a guesthouse in Mestia with fabulous views to Banguriani - it had a nice, albeit basic, 'mountain hut' atmosphere which I quite liked. This morning dawned superbly clear, and the village was deserted as I walked through it at 7.30am, buying a huge freshly cooked shota puri (tandoor) bread - too big to fit in my sac - for a few pence and climbing the cobbled streets towards the path up to the giant cross visible from most parts of the village. The route up was surprisingly steep in places, through thick woods with views to the magnificent pyramidal snow peak of Tetnuldi at the head of the valley. The leaves were just beginning to turn in the autumnal cool, and it really was a magnificent place to be. After an hour of solid effort, taking all the direct variations, I emerged on the undulating plateau above - infuriatingly, next to a jeep track. The views were stunning, however: directly across to the peaks of Kabardino-Balkaria, the Russian republic across the border, with the white dome of Elbrus immediately obvious. Closer to hand, Latraldashi, Tikhtengen and Banguriani towered above the Chalaadi valley to the right. Ushba, however, was hidden in some very localised mist. I walked to the giant cross which marks the 'summit' of Tskhakvzagari at 2359m, although in reality this is just the end of a long spur. It looks like a peak from Mestia, though, which I suppose is the reason it is a named peak. I sat on the grass for a few glorious minutes, enjoying the perfect temperatures and looking down to the Svan villages in the valley and the summits of Mekhnazi and Lahili. The light remained wonderful as I climbed the broad ridge above - this was a little tedious, but I reached the side path to the Guli Pass fairly quickly. This looked good, but my plan to climb Guli on the left seemed a little underambitious - it was just a spur on the ridge, not much of a peak given the magnificent surroundings. Instead, high above, was another peak. It looked red and shattered, but there was an obvious path up it, and it seemed certain to provide close-up views of Ushba - which at this point was still draped in cloud. I thought I'd take the chance, as the steep climb gave access to the famous Koruldi Lakes. These are shallow pools, but they provide a stunning foreground to the jagged peaks of the Russian border. They are popular, but I had it all to myself. Above, a little ridge led to a vague gravel track zig-zagging upwards. The altitude really kicked in now, at 3000m, and I had at least 1500m of climbing in my legs. I nibbled on my tonis puri, and left the track at the steep scree slope that was so obvious from below. There was a vague path up this, but it took some finding to make this negotiable. The cloud was peeling away from the red ridge above, however, and I began to feel that views of Ushba might be imminent. Nothing could prepare me for the sight that greeted me as I emerged, however. A loose scramble, distinctly unpleasant, led steeply up the final shattered cone of rock to the ridge, and then a stunning, instant view straight across to Ushba, one of the world's most dramatic, recognisable, dangerous and beautiful mountains. Its twin peaks were redolent of Pedraforca in Catalonia, or Pic du Midi in the Pyrenees, but twice as big. I have seen a lot of amazing sights in many mountain ranges over many years all over the world, but this was up there with the best of them: absolutely incredible, with tendrils of mist peeling away from the twin spires and plunging icefalls on either side. There are no obvious lines of weakness from this side. My more modest peak (Koruldi) lay up to the left, and a nice ridge led to a broader col before a final scrambly ridge up red, bouldery, shattered rock led to a small summit cross and cairn a little higher up. The view of Ushba from the true summit was even better, breath-taking and incredibly close. Of all my '50 at 50' special overseas mountains this year (46 done so far), I think this view exceeded that of Teide from Guajara, and the many, many others, as the finest of all. Both Ushba peaks were now visible, and as I descended I took some time to examine the peaks further east - stunning in every direction, just a little overshadowed by the mighty Ushba. The descent was far easier than the ascent, scree running in places, and I decided to extend the day by contouring the wonderful hillside directly across to the Guli Pass. This was wonderful - springy meadows, steppe buzzards overhead, water pipits below. There was no path (I was above the normal route) but it looked initially like I might be able to contour directly across. Sadly, however, I reached a broad river valley which was very steep, almost a gorge, and meant I had to descend to the normal path - steep and tiring. From here, I crossed the stream (awkward) and headed up to Guli before abandoning the attempt just below the pass when I realised I would be too late back if I carried on. The descent was steep but the weather stayed glorious - and I refuelled on the carb-heavy Lobiani (bean pie) in Lushqu Qor beer garden.
I have wanted to visit Svaneti for many years: it has always seemed the archetypal hidden mountain land, high up in the Caucasus. It's a fascinating region more generally, which I scratched the surface of in previous brief trips: 2011 and 2012. After a night in Kutaisi, I took the long Mashrutka journey through Zugdidi along the Abkhazian border to the Engudi gorge. Above here, eventually, the characteristic medieval towers of Svaneti mark the entrance to this magical environment - fields and fertile valleys, huge peaks. I stayed in a guesthouse in Mestia with fabulous views to Banguriani - it had a nice, albeit basic, 'mountain hut' atmosphere which I quite liked. This morning dawned superbly clear, and the village was deserted as I walked through it at 7.30am, buying a huge freshly cooked shota puri (tandoor) bread - too big to fit in my sac - for a few pence and climbing the cobbled streets towards the path up to the giant cross visible from most parts of the village. The route up was surprisingly steep in places, through thick woods with views to the magnificent pyramidal snow peak of Tetnuldi at the head of the valley. The leaves were just beginning to turn in the autumnal cool, and it really was a magnificent place to be. After an hour of solid effort, taking all the direct variations, I emerged on the undulating plateau above - infuriatingly, next to a jeep track. The views were stunning, however: directly across to the peaks of Kabardino-Balkaria, the Russian republic across the border, with the white dome of Elbrus immediately obvious. Closer to hand, Latraldashi, Tikhtengen and Banguriani towered above the Chalaadi valley to the right. Ushba, however, was hidden in some very localised mist. I walked to the giant cross which marks the 'summit' of Tskhakvzagari at 2359m, although in reality this is just the end of a long spur. It looks like a peak from Mestia, though, which I suppose is the reason it is a named peak. I sat on the grass for a few glorious minutes, enjoying the perfect temperatures and looking down to the Svan villages in the valley and the summits of Mekhnazi and Lahili. The light remained wonderful as I climbed the broad ridge above - this was a little tedious, but I reached the side path to the Guli Pass fairly quickly. This looked good, but my plan to climb Guli on the left seemed a little underambitious - it was just a spur on the ridge, not much of a peak given the magnificent surroundings. Instead, high above, was another peak. It looked red and shattered, but there was an obvious path up it, and it seemed certain to provide close-up views of Ushba - which at this point was still draped in cloud. I thought I'd take the chance, as the steep climb gave access to the famous Koruldi Lakes. These are shallow pools, but they provide a stunning foreground to the jagged peaks of the Russian border. They are popular, but I had it all to myself. Above, a little ridge led to a vague gravel track zig-zagging upwards. The altitude really kicked in now, at 3000m, and I had at least 1500m of climbing in my legs. I nibbled on my tonis puri, and left the track at the steep scree slope that was so obvious from below. There was a vague path up this, but it took some finding to make this negotiable. The cloud was peeling away from the red ridge above, however, and I began to feel that views of Ushba might be imminent. Nothing could prepare me for the sight that greeted me as I emerged, however. A loose scramble, distinctly unpleasant, led steeply up the final shattered cone of rock to the ridge, and then a stunning, instant view straight across to Ushba, one of the world's most dramatic, recognisable, dangerous and beautiful mountains. Its twin peaks were redolent of Pedraforca in Catalonia, or Pic du Midi in the Pyrenees, but twice as big. I have seen a lot of amazing sights in many mountain ranges over many years all over the world, but this was up there with the best of them: absolutely incredible, with tendrils of mist peeling away from the twin spires and plunging icefalls on either side. There are no obvious lines of weakness from this side. My more modest peak (Koruldi) lay up to the left, and a nice ridge led to a broader col before a final scrambly ridge up red, bouldery, shattered rock led to a small summit cross and cairn a little higher up. The view of Ushba from the true summit was even better, breath-taking and incredibly close. Of all my '50 at 50' special overseas mountains this year (46 done so far), I think this view exceeded that of Teide from Guajara, and the many, many others, as the finest of all. Both Ushba peaks were now visible, and as I descended I took some time to examine the peaks further east - stunning in every direction, just a little overshadowed by the mighty Ushba. The descent was far easier than the ascent, scree running in places, and I decided to extend the day by contouring the wonderful hillside directly across to the Guli Pass. This was wonderful - springy meadows, steppe buzzards overhead, water pipits below. There was no path (I was above the normal route) but it looked initially like I might be able to contour directly across. Sadly, however, I reached a broad river valley which was very steep, almost a gorge, and meant I had to descend to the normal path - steep and tiring. From here, I crossed the stream (awkward) and headed up to Guli before abandoning the attempt just below the pass when I realised I would be too late back if I carried on. The descent was steep but the weather stayed glorious - and I refuelled on the carb-heavy Lobiani (bean pie) in Lushqu Qor beer garden.
Tuesday, September 10, 2019
Wirral MT Series, Thurstaston
Race: Wirral Multi-Terrain Series (Race 2: Thurstaston 5m)
Time/Position: 30.30 (28th from 245)
Exactly the same position as last week although I felt a little better for this race, which is possibly my favourite of the four Wirral fixtures. It is another two-lap affair, dropping down to the beach with its big skies and views across the estuary. On the first lap, I tripped on an errant boulder, of which there are a few, cutting my knee. This knocked me back temporarily, but as the field opened out I began to pick up a few places and sustained the same modest speed on the second lap. The run-in along the cycle track always takes much longer than you might reasonably expect, and the finish is now next to the visitor centre up a little hill.
Time/Position: 30.30 (28th from 245)
Exactly the same position as last week although I felt a little better for this race, which is possibly my favourite of the four Wirral fixtures. It is another two-lap affair, dropping down to the beach with its big skies and views across the estuary. On the first lap, I tripped on an errant boulder, of which there are a few, cutting my knee. This knocked me back temporarily, but as the field opened out I began to pick up a few places and sustained the same modest speed on the second lap. The run-in along the cycle track always takes much longer than you might reasonably expect, and the finish is now next to the visitor centre up a little hill.
Sunday, September 08, 2019
Ras Cyrn y Brain
Race: Cyrn y Brain fell race (7m/1300ft)
Time/Position: 52.44 (6th from 62)
Like an extended version of the Ponderosa hill race, this took in some very familiar ground and is an excellent runnable route. This is the third year it's been run, I think, but a first for me. I took it steady for the concrete climb up to Cyrn y Brain, with some fairly big gaps opening out between runners. This joins the long OD descent across the open moor on duck boards and heathery paths down to the World's End road: I was disappointingly slow on this section, and also for the mile or so down the tarmac to World's End. The race then takes the long contouring climb back up Cyrn y Brain, which eventually joins the narrow Ponderosa descent route (I remember doing this climb on a long run from Llandegla a couple of years ago). I made up some ground here, but couldn't catch Simon in front and he finished 30 second ahead after the quick dash down the rather painful concrete path to the finish near the Ponderosa. Nice weather throughout, relatively cool and clear, with fluffy clouds and views across to Snowdonia.
Time/Position: 52.44 (6th from 62)
Like an extended version of the Ponderosa hill race, this took in some very familiar ground and is an excellent runnable route. This is the third year it's been run, I think, but a first for me. I took it steady for the concrete climb up to Cyrn y Brain, with some fairly big gaps opening out between runners. This joins the long OD descent across the open moor on duck boards and heathery paths down to the World's End road: I was disappointingly slow on this section, and also for the mile or so down the tarmac to World's End. The race then takes the long contouring climb back up Cyrn y Brain, which eventually joins the narrow Ponderosa descent route (I remember doing this climb on a long run from Llandegla a couple of years ago). I made up some ground here, but couldn't catch Simon in front and he finished 30 second ahead after the quick dash down the rather painful concrete path to the finish near the Ponderosa. Nice weather throughout, relatively cool and clear, with fluffy clouds and views across to Snowdonia.
Tuesday, September 03, 2019
Wirral MT Series, Royden Park
Race: Wirral Multi-Terrain Series (Race 1: Royden Park 5m)
Time/Position: 31.22 (28th from 243)
Last time I did this race, in 2015, I had the Ben Nevis race descent in my legs and still remember a monstrous case of the DOMS as I hobbled round. No such excuses tonight, yet I was still two minutes slower! Still, I felt better than I have recently and did feel a tiny bit of speed returning at times. A huge field set off for a lap round the first field, so it was very crowded for the long lap which takes some narrow paths through the woods to gain the edge of the sandstone escarpment with views over the Dee to north Wales. Quite frustrating at times, especially on the rocky, sandy descent from the trigpoint on the miniature hill that marks the end of the climb. I made up some ground on the second lap but it was all a bit too late, with me a bit too slow, and struggling with the pace towards the end. Still, it feels really good to be back racing again, even if there is a lot of work to do. With luck, I'll be able to do three of this always excellent series this September.
Time/Position: 31.22 (28th from 243)
Last time I did this race, in 2015, I had the Ben Nevis race descent in my legs and still remember a monstrous case of the DOMS as I hobbled round. No such excuses tonight, yet I was still two minutes slower! Still, I felt better than I have recently and did feel a tiny bit of speed returning at times. A huge field set off for a lap round the first field, so it was very crowded for the long lap which takes some narrow paths through the woods to gain the edge of the sandstone escarpment with views over the Dee to north Wales. Quite frustrating at times, especially on the rocky, sandy descent from the trigpoint on the miniature hill that marks the end of the climb. I made up some ground on the second lap but it was all a bit too late, with me a bit too slow, and struggling with the pace towards the end. Still, it feels really good to be back racing again, even if there is a lot of work to do. With luck, I'll be able to do three of this always excellent series this September.
Saturday, August 31, 2019
Moelwyn Paddy leg
Peaks: Moel Siabod, Clogwyn Bwlch y Maen, Carnedd Cribau, Cerrig Cochion, Moel Meirch, Ysgafell Wen, Moel Llyn Cwn, Moel Druman, Allt Fawr, Foel Ddu, Moel yr Hydd, Moelwyn Bach, Craigysgafn, Moelwyn Mawr, Cnicht
Area: Moelwynion, Eryri
The third time I have done this most obscure and arduous of Snowdonian traverses this summer: I have no great desire to do it again for a while! On this occasion, I was supporting a Paddy Buckley attempt for the first time. As Paddy was one of my targets for this year of multiple mountains, I had mixed emotions as this summer has felt like 'now or never' for me to have a proper go at it before I switch back to normal running next year. However, you have to properly commit, and it definitely didn't feel appropriate to join another attempt when they've done all the organisation and got a team together. Instead, I wanted to properly support Hayley and Rich's attempt, so set off with them from Capel Curig at 10.30am for what proved a really enjoyable outing. An hour before, the rain was coming down in torrential sheets, but it cleared completely on the way up Siabod, and we reached the summit in 50 minutes from Capel. A light shower as we ran down the superb gentle ridge to the next two peaks, before the boggy and awkward section that ultimately leads to Cerrig Cochion. The terrain remains awkward over the rocks of Moel Meirch and Ysgafell Wen - there is never much climbing, but locating the true summits is tricky, and it is always arduous underfoot. We had a team of five in total, with two other support runners, and we made a good team - perfectly paced, around 20 minutes up on a 24-hour schedule, and all good company. After Ysgafell Wen, the terrain eases to excellent running out to Allt Fawr and then down to the water sources above Blaenau. Superb views, they couldn't have had better weather at this point - cool but clear. In the panic of the morning, I had neglected to pack any food for myself, and this became a bit of a problem on a 6.5 hour leg - it wasn't as if I could ask anybody for a bite! Moelwyn Bach brought back nice memories of our 'coast to coast' with Cardigan Bay glistening and Porthmadog bathed in sunshine. And then it was along the familiar ridge over rocky Craigysgafn to Moelwyn Mawr: more wonderful views as the clouds melted away from the Carneddau far to the north. It is a long and complex haul from Moelwyn Mawr to Cnicht, weaving through quarry workings, lumpy terrain and hidden lakes. We met Steve and Hazel here, and their bananas and cake was most welcome - because the direct assault up Cnicht follows. I reccied this in April (nobody in their right mind would ever do Cnicht from this side) and stuck to the contouring route I discovered, which works well. A long descent, rocky at first down the scrambly Croesor race route (my left knee a tad painful after the Beacons race) and then a long bouldery track which leads to a minor road and, eventually, Nantmor. I cooked soup, then drove Hayley's car back to Capel as they continued over the Hebog leg. So, mixed emotions: perhaps the Fellsman and Porthmadog-Conwy 'coast to coast' may have to stand as the high water marks of the last two 'distance years'!
Area: Moelwynion, Eryri
The third time I have done this most obscure and arduous of Snowdonian traverses this summer: I have no great desire to do it again for a while! On this occasion, I was supporting a Paddy Buckley attempt for the first time. As Paddy was one of my targets for this year of multiple mountains, I had mixed emotions as this summer has felt like 'now or never' for me to have a proper go at it before I switch back to normal running next year. However, you have to properly commit, and it definitely didn't feel appropriate to join another attempt when they've done all the organisation and got a team together. Instead, I wanted to properly support Hayley and Rich's attempt, so set off with them from Capel Curig at 10.30am for what proved a really enjoyable outing. An hour before, the rain was coming down in torrential sheets, but it cleared completely on the way up Siabod, and we reached the summit in 50 minutes from Capel. A light shower as we ran down the superb gentle ridge to the next two peaks, before the boggy and awkward section that ultimately leads to Cerrig Cochion. The terrain remains awkward over the rocks of Moel Meirch and Ysgafell Wen - there is never much climbing, but locating the true summits is tricky, and it is always arduous underfoot. We had a team of five in total, with two other support runners, and we made a good team - perfectly paced, around 20 minutes up on a 24-hour schedule, and all good company. After Ysgafell Wen, the terrain eases to excellent running out to Allt Fawr and then down to the water sources above Blaenau. Superb views, they couldn't have had better weather at this point - cool but clear. In the panic of the morning, I had neglected to pack any food for myself, and this became a bit of a problem on a 6.5 hour leg - it wasn't as if I could ask anybody for a bite! Moelwyn Bach brought back nice memories of our 'coast to coast' with Cardigan Bay glistening and Porthmadog bathed in sunshine. And then it was along the familiar ridge over rocky Craigysgafn to Moelwyn Mawr: more wonderful views as the clouds melted away from the Carneddau far to the north. It is a long and complex haul from Moelwyn Mawr to Cnicht, weaving through quarry workings, lumpy terrain and hidden lakes. We met Steve and Hazel here, and their bananas and cake was most welcome - because the direct assault up Cnicht follows. I reccied this in April (nobody in their right mind would ever do Cnicht from this side) and stuck to the contouring route I discovered, which works well. A long descent, rocky at first down the scrambly Croesor race route (my left knee a tad painful after the Beacons race) and then a long bouldery track which leads to a minor road and, eventually, Nantmor. I cooked soup, then drove Hayley's car back to Capel as they continued over the Hebog leg. So, mixed emotions: perhaps the Fellsman and Porthmadog-Conwy 'coast to coast' may have to stand as the high water marks of the last two 'distance years'!
Thursday, August 29, 2019
Marian Bach climbing
Crag: Marian Bach, Llysfaen
Routes: High Speed Virgins (f5b:sec), Line Right of HSV (f5:sec), Tanfastic Variation (f5b:led), Tanfastic (f5:sec), Malibu (f5c:sec), Encierro de la Villavesa (f5b:led), Rocky Robin (f5:sec), Krakatwo-er (f5c:sec), Seren (f4:led)
On my last, and only, visit to this hidden crag, the routes had only just been put up. They now have names and grades and it is a nice, peaceful venue - ideal this morning, as I didn't have much time and it was very windy at nearby Castle Inn. Steve led a short new route on the left, then I led the un-named route up the left wall of the Tanfastic groove. This was steeper than it looked and enjoyable. Malibu takes a steep wall further right on big horizontal holds and is really nice, perhaps the best route here. I led the obvious right-left traverse using the same starting moves, and this also gave pleasant and worthwhile climbing, as did the obvious line of Rocky Robin. Some of these I'd done on my previous visit, some were new to me. The awkward wide crack of Krakatwoer was definitely familiar, but the easy route to its right was new. Back to Conwy for a picnic lunch.
Routes: High Speed Virgins (f5b:sec), Line Right of HSV (f5:sec), Tanfastic Variation (f5b:led), Tanfastic (f5:sec), Malibu (f5c:sec), Encierro de la Villavesa (f5b:led), Rocky Robin (f5:sec), Krakatwo-er (f5c:sec), Seren (f4:led)
On my last, and only, visit to this hidden crag, the routes had only just been put up. They now have names and grades and it is a nice, peaceful venue - ideal this morning, as I didn't have much time and it was very windy at nearby Castle Inn. Steve led a short new route on the left, then I led the un-named route up the left wall of the Tanfastic groove. This was steeper than it looked and enjoyable. Malibu takes a steep wall further right on big horizontal holds and is really nice, perhaps the best route here. I led the obvious right-left traverse using the same starting moves, and this also gave pleasant and worthwhile climbing, as did the obvious line of Rocky Robin. Some of these I'd done on my previous visit, some were new to me. The awkward wide crack of Krakatwoer was definitely familiar, but the easy route to its right was new. Back to Conwy for a picnic lunch.
Saturday, August 24, 2019
Brecon Beacons fell race
Race: Brecon Beacons fell race (31k/4500ft/BL)
Peaks: Carn Pica, Waun Rydd, Cribyn, Pen y Fan, Corn Du, Twyn Mwyalchod, Pant y Creigiau, Tor y Foel
Time/Position: 3.53.28 (21st from 69)
The missing piece of the jigsaw, in the sense that this was the only long Welsh fell race I hadn't done. It takes a grand, sweeping loop of the long valley that curves west above Talybont. We camped in a nice wooded glade by the youth hostel, just below the Taff Trail that I enjoyed so much on February's Brecon-Cardiff ultra. The day dawned hot, and became very hot - 27c in fact, and it was obvious that the crux would be coping with it on a course with no shelter and no water. The race starts below the reservoir, just above the village, and heads up the road and obvious track to the start of the broad ridge over Twyn Du that eventually leads up to Carn Pica, the most easterly of the Beacons. This is a sharp little climb at the end, and a great viewpoint in all directions. My relaxed approach meant I could take pictures and enjoy it. A lot of height had already been gained, and a very helpful cooling breeze was gratefully received after a sweaty and long climb. The ridgeline then curves invitingly towards the distant main Beacons summits. For such a hot day, the clarity of light was wonderful - and the running superb along the main path above the northern escarpment (Craig Cwm Cynwyn). The race contours Fan y Big to the col below Cribyn - and then a short, steep climb gains the nice summit ridge of Cribyn before another steep descent with superb views of Pen y Fan, now directly in front. It was such a stunning day, and these peaks are so accessible from the Storey Arms, that there were hundreds of people on the tops - it was actually quite hard to find the marshall on Pen y Fan, and Corn Du (just a matter of minutes away). Only the 4th or 5th time I've been up the main Beacons summits. From the top of Corn Du comes a very long level ridge south-east to Rhiw yr Ysgyfarnog above the Gwaun Taf valley (which joins Taf Fawr at Merthyr). This ridge, like the earlier one, is runnable although awkward and bouldery in places - the sandstone slabs reminiscent of certain Peak races like the Roaches. The next checkpoint was at the trig on Twyn Mwyalchod, then came a steep descent where I took a bad, indirect line, immediately losing five places (I was 25th on Corn Du). Then it was down to a waterpoint below Upper Neuadd, the only water on the route, before the airless trudge through Taf Fechan forest. The breeze gone, it was very hot work, and got worse as we gained the tarmac (the same road to Merthyr that I ran down from the highpoint on Brecon-Cardiff). The climb up Pant y Creigiau was probably the crux of the route, and I took it too far left, losing ground again. After the summit, I could see Tor y Foel, the final peak, and felt the end was in sight. In reality, the topography on this side of the valley means it takes forever to reach. It heads over Darren Fawr via multiple bumps and hidden valleys. I made up some ground on two local runners, which helped for the route-finding here, which seems bewildering as the best lines weave left and right, seemingly avoiding the direct route to Tor y Foel. Great views down to the lakes and across to the main Beacons summits, all looking very distant, and in front to the east was the Usk valley and Black Mountains. It was all very hot and thirsty work, and I passed three dehydrated semi-casualties before gaining the final climb up Tor y Foel. This is a nice little summit, directly above the YHA and dam to which the descent heads directly, with local knowledge a help again. The race finishes on the dam wall - a wonderful, aesthetically pleasing circuit, but the hottest 'long' I have done for several years (I think the Welsh 1000s in 2011 was the last time I did a 'long' that was this hot).
Peaks: Carn Pica, Waun Rydd, Cribyn, Pen y Fan, Corn Du, Twyn Mwyalchod, Pant y Creigiau, Tor y Foel
Time/Position: 3.53.28 (21st from 69)
The missing piece of the jigsaw, in the sense that this was the only long Welsh fell race I hadn't done. It takes a grand, sweeping loop of the long valley that curves west above Talybont. We camped in a nice wooded glade by the youth hostel, just below the Taff Trail that I enjoyed so much on February's Brecon-Cardiff ultra. The day dawned hot, and became very hot - 27c in fact, and it was obvious that the crux would be coping with it on a course with no shelter and no water. The race starts below the reservoir, just above the village, and heads up the road and obvious track to the start of the broad ridge over Twyn Du that eventually leads up to Carn Pica, the most easterly of the Beacons. This is a sharp little climb at the end, and a great viewpoint in all directions. My relaxed approach meant I could take pictures and enjoy it. A lot of height had already been gained, and a very helpful cooling breeze was gratefully received after a sweaty and long climb. The ridgeline then curves invitingly towards the distant main Beacons summits. For such a hot day, the clarity of light was wonderful - and the running superb along the main path above the northern escarpment (Craig Cwm Cynwyn). The race contours Fan y Big to the col below Cribyn - and then a short, steep climb gains the nice summit ridge of Cribyn before another steep descent with superb views of Pen y Fan, now directly in front. It was such a stunning day, and these peaks are so accessible from the Storey Arms, that there were hundreds of people on the tops - it was actually quite hard to find the marshall on Pen y Fan, and Corn Du (just a matter of minutes away). Only the 4th or 5th time I've been up the main Beacons summits. From the top of Corn Du comes a very long level ridge south-east to Rhiw yr Ysgyfarnog above the Gwaun Taf valley (which joins Taf Fawr at Merthyr). This ridge, like the earlier one, is runnable although awkward and bouldery in places - the sandstone slabs reminiscent of certain Peak races like the Roaches. The next checkpoint was at the trig on Twyn Mwyalchod, then came a steep descent where I took a bad, indirect line, immediately losing five places (I was 25th on Corn Du). Then it was down to a waterpoint below Upper Neuadd, the only water on the route, before the airless trudge through Taf Fechan forest. The breeze gone, it was very hot work, and got worse as we gained the tarmac (the same road to Merthyr that I ran down from the highpoint on Brecon-Cardiff). The climb up Pant y Creigiau was probably the crux of the route, and I took it too far left, losing ground again. After the summit, I could see Tor y Foel, the final peak, and felt the end was in sight. In reality, the topography on this side of the valley means it takes forever to reach. It heads over Darren Fawr via multiple bumps and hidden valleys. I made up some ground on two local runners, which helped for the route-finding here, which seems bewildering as the best lines weave left and right, seemingly avoiding the direct route to Tor y Foel. Great views down to the lakes and across to the main Beacons summits, all looking very distant, and in front to the east was the Usk valley and Black Mountains. It was all very hot and thirsty work, and I passed three dehydrated semi-casualties before gaining the final climb up Tor y Foel. This is a nice little summit, directly above the YHA and dam to which the descent heads directly, with local knowledge a help again. The race finishes on the dam wall - a wonderful, aesthetically pleasing circuit, but the hottest 'long' I have done for several years (I think the Welsh 1000s in 2011 was the last time I did a 'long' that was this hot).
Tuesday, August 20, 2019
Tremadog climbing
Crag: Upper Tier/Two Face Buttress, Tremadog
Routes: Falling Block Crack (S:led), Gwynedd/Mistook (VS 4b:sec), KMA (HS 4a:led), Madog (VS 4c:sec), Olympic Slab (VS 4c:sec), Stromboli (HVS 5a:sec)
It hasn't been the most successful of years, rock-climbing wise, as the focus has been on multiple mountains instead. So this was a nice opportunity to get onto a rather obscure part of Tremadog that I hadn't visited before, Two-Face buttress, which is hidden below the Upper Tier, its lower pitches buried in vegetation. We kicked off on the more familiar terrain of the Upper Tier, however, where I led the easy Falling Block Crack for the second time. This goes to a small bulge around the block, which gives a few bridging moves to an easy finish: a nice, simple route to begin with. Vic led Mistook, which takes the curving finger crack to the right. I did the eliminate start (Gwynedd) at the same grade, but had to take the Mistook crack towards the top to retrieve the gear. KMA was a gap for me: it takes the obvious line on the left of the crag. The start is awkward: smooth rock with a puzzling move, few obvious holds, squirming up the broad crack to eventually gain projecting holds and a big ledge. After a move left round a tree, the route continues via some nice bridging to an upper rib. Quite enjoyable, and the sun came out giving wonderful views over the Rhinogs, estuary and Criccieth as I brought up Vic and Ceri. Madog takes the smooth and awkward jamming crack to the right, with a delicate and tricky finish (if you take it direct). After lunch, we hopped over the fence and abbed down to the tree below Olympic Slab. This takes an immaculate steep slab of perfect Tremadog rock, protected from crowds and polish by its inaccessibility. It is short, but harder than I expected: quite technical for a few moves. It goes up spikes to a very thin crack, which is delicate up to some small holds, then another crack, a tad easier, to the finishing groove. Very well positioned, with an exposed feel, despite its brevity. We then moved the rope and abseiled down the other side of the buttress where Vic led Stromboli. This is the archetypal 'route of character'. Again, only short, but with a big feel, packing a lot of climbing and variety in to 25m or so. It goes easily to a great undercut traverse, which requires some thought on a single 9mm, with very little for the feet and a precise sequence to gain a good hold at the end of the overhang. This gains an easy slab up to the impending double-overhang of the headwall. This is the second hard move, and probably the crux, up an overhanging groove, nudging upwards to gain an enormous hold with nothing for the feet until you find a perfect little ledge on the right wall. Hauling up gains the final slab and another hard move up right, to pull over to the belay. It started spitting with rain the second we all finished, then rained properly as we descended: excellent timing.
Routes: Falling Block Crack (S:led), Gwynedd/Mistook (VS 4b:sec), KMA (HS 4a:led), Madog (VS 4c:sec), Olympic Slab (VS 4c:sec), Stromboli (HVS 5a:sec)
It hasn't been the most successful of years, rock-climbing wise, as the focus has been on multiple mountains instead. So this was a nice opportunity to get onto a rather obscure part of Tremadog that I hadn't visited before, Two-Face buttress, which is hidden below the Upper Tier, its lower pitches buried in vegetation. We kicked off on the more familiar terrain of the Upper Tier, however, where I led the easy Falling Block Crack for the second time. This goes to a small bulge around the block, which gives a few bridging moves to an easy finish: a nice, simple route to begin with. Vic led Mistook, which takes the curving finger crack to the right. I did the eliminate start (Gwynedd) at the same grade, but had to take the Mistook crack towards the top to retrieve the gear. KMA was a gap for me: it takes the obvious line on the left of the crag. The start is awkward: smooth rock with a puzzling move, few obvious holds, squirming up the broad crack to eventually gain projecting holds and a big ledge. After a move left round a tree, the route continues via some nice bridging to an upper rib. Quite enjoyable, and the sun came out giving wonderful views over the Rhinogs, estuary and Criccieth as I brought up Vic and Ceri. Madog takes the smooth and awkward jamming crack to the right, with a delicate and tricky finish (if you take it direct). After lunch, we hopped over the fence and abbed down to the tree below Olympic Slab. This takes an immaculate steep slab of perfect Tremadog rock, protected from crowds and polish by its inaccessibility. It is short, but harder than I expected: quite technical for a few moves. It goes up spikes to a very thin crack, which is delicate up to some small holds, then another crack, a tad easier, to the finishing groove. Very well positioned, with an exposed feel, despite its brevity. We then moved the rope and abseiled down the other side of the buttress where Vic led Stromboli. This is the archetypal 'route of character'. Again, only short, but with a big feel, packing a lot of climbing and variety in to 25m or so. It goes easily to a great undercut traverse, which requires some thought on a single 9mm, with very little for the feet and a precise sequence to gain a good hold at the end of the overhang. This gains an easy slab up to the impending double-overhang of the headwall. This is the second hard move, and probably the crux, up an overhanging groove, nudging upwards to gain an enormous hold with nothing for the feet until you find a perfect little ledge on the right wall. Hauling up gains the final slab and another hard move up right, to pull over to the belay. It started spitting with rain the second we all finished, then rained properly as we descended: excellent timing.
Sunday, August 18, 2019
Two Hillforts fell race
Race: Two Hillforts fell race (8.5m/2600ft)
Time/Position: 1.18.44 (9th from 73)
A two month lay-off from racing, my longest in many years, so this (along with yesterday's Parkrun) was always going to be a shock to the system. As such, it went as well as could be expected, perhaps better as I felt fairly comfortable throughout, albeit very slow. The excellent new route seemed similar to the defunct Tavern Trial or Lletty, although it started from a different farm, contouring along to the same steep path up to the Moel Arthur car park. Then comes the brutally steep climb up the front of Moel Arthur, then a descent through the heather towards Pen y Cloddiau. This is always my favourite hill for running, and we took the fire road which climbs gently on the Vale side before running along the top of the hillfort to the summit. The weather was beautiful but windy, a nice late summer day. There were quite big gaps between runners - I passed one and was then passed by a fast finisher as we climbed back up to Llys y Coed for the long run in, which starts by the Cilcain col and ends with the superb grassy descent back to Llangynhafal.
Time/Position: 1.18.44 (9th from 73)
A two month lay-off from racing, my longest in many years, so this (along with yesterday's Parkrun) was always going to be a shock to the system. As such, it went as well as could be expected, perhaps better as I felt fairly comfortable throughout, albeit very slow. The excellent new route seemed similar to the defunct Tavern Trial or Lletty, although it started from a different farm, contouring along to the same steep path up to the Moel Arthur car park. Then comes the brutally steep climb up the front of Moel Arthur, then a descent through the heather towards Pen y Cloddiau. This is always my favourite hill for running, and we took the fire road which climbs gently on the Vale side before running along the top of the hillfort to the summit. The weather was beautiful but windy, a nice late summer day. There were quite big gaps between runners - I passed one and was then passed by a fast finisher as we climbed back up to Llys y Coed for the long run in, which starts by the Cilcain col and ends with the superb grassy descent back to Llangynhafal.
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