Crib Lem Spur ascent of Carnedd Dafydd
Posted by Ian in Ascents - Under 3000m, Mountains, Routes on September 14th, 2009
“Now for something completely different…”. I’ve been meaning to try using video for a while, to show better what it’s like on the walk and to talk through some of what I’d usually write reams and reams about. So here’s the first attempt, which despite some things I’d like to change, I think work okay. I’d love to know what you all make of it, so if it’s worth me doing again let me know, or if you prefer pictures/words then say and if there’s something in particular I’ve missed from the video you think would work well just shout out and I’ll see what I can do! Here goes…
Seeing the weather looked good for Snowdonia in mid September it didn’t take long to decide a day out was in order. All Summer I’d wanted to take a look at the Crib Lem Spur on Carnedd Dafydd and with good weather, a route in the Carneddau would also be a perfect to escape the crowds. So I was up at 4:30am on Saturday the 12th, to drive over to Snowdonia, where I parked in a space in Gerlan (it’s a small part of Bethesda you reach by going West on the A5, driving down a tiny road past mining cottages and then at a sharp right going back up the hill). Out on the road, you just follow it and then over a couple of styles into open ground…
Into the Cwm the path goes from clambering over rocks in boggy ground to a nice easy faint trail. There was one opening to the right I passed which I almost considered but it’s fairly obvious from mid way in the walk that the huge outcrop off Carnedd Dafydd is the Crib Lem Spur. Best piece of information from the Cicerone book was to look for an area with large boulders, with a view up to Carnedd Dafydd like this…
The walk up where I pointed to in the video is actually quite steep and with the sun not hitting the rock yet it was a little slippery on the looser sections. Not much fun. But anyway after a steepish start/middle it flattens out and you quickly ascend around the corner of the crag and up. Then it’s as though you hit a wall where you could climb higher but the trail seemed to take me to the left naturally and there’s an obvious grassy platform going up back out toward the valley, which is what you want to follow. Reaching the end of the spur by taking this you then need to ascend a section of steep grass and some small rocky scrambles to make it to the start of the climbing proper…
As explained by the video above, I stuck to the crest throughout and had fun doing so. There is however a decent trail that runs through the scramble that you can almost always drop down to if you don’t fancy climbing it all. The scrambling is mostly simply stuff, although as usual I perhaps didn’t do things the easy way a couple of times and so found a few moves more demanding, but nothing too bad. Whilst not quite the quality of what you’ll find in the Glyders, the setting of this scramble is great and you’ll feel very much on your own, unlike the other classics which become very crowded. Descent would be fine through the scramble although the walking either side is a little steep and over some loose rock, so if you’re not keen on scree be aware of that.
Up on top of Carnedd Dafydd I started to see I wasn’t quite so alone on the mountain with people littered across the ridge. Picking up my pace I was soon over at Pen yr Ole Wen and then back over Carnedd Dafydd before a short stop to drink a little more, eat a cereal bar and look at the spur from the side.
I carried on the fairly long ridge walk toward Carnedd Llewellyn where I met another walker intending on a similar list of peaks. On top of Carnedd Llewellyn, with clouds coming in and drinks in particular running low I decided it would be best to just ascend Yr Elen then descend back toward Bethesda, so we walked out together, descending via Yr Elen’s North Ridge that I’ve been up a couple of times this year, which again is a tiny bit steep but nothing tricky at all.
It was a fantastic day and great to finally check out what turns out to be a good, fun route in the Carneddau. I’m not rushing to go back but it makes for a nice change from the more crowded peaks/routes in the region and so is well worth doing. I was a little disappointed to not see the 3000s I’m yet to ascend, but the day felt fairly long and the weather did close in when we descended, so I guess I wouldn’t have seen much of them had I carried on. My watch recorded (most of) the day at over 8hrs, more than 13 miles of walking and with over 5,000ft of altitude gain, so a pretty good day out! With a lot of running coming up (I’m preparing for the New York Marathon) I may be a little quiet for walking in the coming month or so, which means a couple of posts relating to bits from my past, but don’t be too surprised to see photos/videos of me being battered by sideways rain on Snowdon… you can’t beat it.
Once again, let me know what you think to the videos and slightly shorter version of the post (it’s meant I could get this up a lot quicker). Cheers, Ian.
Mont Blanc via the Goûter Route
Posted by Ian in Ascents - Over 3000m, Mountains on September 13th, 2009
Preparations in Switzerland climbing on the Weissmies (4,017m), Lagginhorn (4,010m) and Allalinhorn (4,027m) to acclimatise hadn’t gone quite how I’d expected, with the altitude affecting me more than I’d hoped and boots hurting my feet on early descents before I changed the lacing and trimmed nails right back. Yet arriving in Chamonix in early August 2009, I felt positive that I was ready to give Mont Blanc a crack. Three (including me) of the four from the Saastal were joined by one from Zermatt and two from Arolla to make a group of six supported by three Swiss guides.
Walking around Chamonix it doesn’t take long to spot Mont Blanc, to say it dominates the valley is a massive understatement and on a clear day (like the one we arrived on) the views are spectacular. Despite how obviously huge the massif is both looking up to the heavens and then down onto a map, I felt better for finally setting my eyes on the mountain; I could see what lay ahead of me and begin to mentally prepare for the ascent.
Mont Blanc from the centre of Chamonix
And then as is usual, the news came in that the fantastic weather that had been in the area for the past week, was about to change for bad weather that’d put a stop to any attempts of ascending Mont Blanc. However, there was at least a glimmer of hope in the form of weather window coming through in the next couple of days and with poor weather expected across the entire region and the huts already booked, there was no point changing plans (sometimes groups head to the Gran Paradiso in Italy), we’d go sit it out in the hut and hope the weather cleared in time.
From Chamonix we went to Les Houches and the Bellevue cable car station, which took us up to just a short walk away from the Tramway du Mont-Blanc train that slowly trundled up to the Nid d’Aigle at 2372m where we’d begin the ascent. A quick fact (well I think it’s a fact, our guide told us and appeared genuine) is that the tramway was meant to go all the way up to the Goûter hut, but due to the Second World War construction stopped, so the station at the top is at an usually steep gradient and 800m is added to the total climb.
The ascent up to the hut is nice and easy over a mix of trail and rock, that takes around 2.5/3hrs. The views whilst pleasant don’t really register, you’re starting the ascent and it was plainly obvious each member of the group was now focused on the job at hand. After half way the trail crosses a rocky area and then you traverse up an outcrop, before appearing on top to see the hut with a dry glacier between. The glacier is relatively flat in places and having stopped moving there’s no worry from crevasses, meaning no need for ropes or even crampons/ice axes to come out.
A quick pause half way to the Tête Rousse hut (Photo credit: Paul G)
After stories of the huts on the route being awful, we were pleasantly surprised upon arriving at the Tête Rousse, the communal area was spacious and bright if not massively comfortable (wooden benches) and the rooms whilst smelling a little damp were fine once you’d navigated the crazy corridor/door system downstairs. Once settled in (i.e. throwing a sleeping bag liner at a bed) and taking my book up to the communal area, conversation amongst the group soon focused on the weather as clouds swirled around outside the hut, allowing us only the occasional view up the route. Things didn’t look good from the forecast, and the guides’ attitude showed we were in for a wait even if they told us we should be ready to go at any time. The hut was surprisingly empty which also pointed to not much chance of an ascent even with the weather appearing to clear later in the afternoon.
From Tête Rousse toward the first section of the route, the Grand Colouir, with the Goûter hut at the top.
After a surprisingly good night’s sleep, I woke up to see the weather looking reasonable and wondering why we’d not tried to at least get up to the Goûter hut, where had the weather been poor we could stop the night and remove a couple hours from our final ascent. Looking upward from the balcony though it was obvious that the wind was strong across the top and very quickly views were again obliterated by cloud. The guides also reminded us that much of the poor reputation of Mont Blanc huts is down to the Goûter, and that we’d be much better holed up lower a the Tête Rousse. So back to the book (The White Spider by Harrer, cracking book and not a bad place to read it) I went and soon it was lunch time; a fantastic omelette. The day wore on and as it did, more people arrived, those in the hut became more active, and finally our main guide told us there was a good chance we’d have weather early in the morning for an ascent. So I grabbed some sleep in the dorm in the afternoon, not wanting to wait until the evening and potentially lay in a noisy room trying desperately for sleep. After the evening meal I was soon back on the bunk, feeling actually really relaxed and quite keen having been stuck in the hut to get up the mountain the next day, I was asleep quickly.
Inside the Tête Rousse hut, things starting to fill up.
The group opposite got up ever so slightly earlier than us, so when the alarms started going off on our side of the room I was already wide awake when the door open with news of good weather, we were finally going for it. Throwing my clothes on that I’d hung up next to the bed (I was wearing a base layer, tshirt, gore-tex jacket on top, schoeller trousers on the bottom as we left) and up the stairs I was surprised just how many people had arrived at night; the communal area was now a huge mass of sleeping bags with exhausted occupants hiding in their hoods from the room lights. As usual, stale bread and awful tasting coffee wasn’t quite what my body fancied, so I ate only a tiny amount before heading off to my locker and outside kitted up, ready to go.
Over a short rocky area we were back onto the dry glacier, very soon wearing crampons and in 3 rope teams of 3. The glacier was little problem and we were soon back onto rock, with the gradient increasing and occasional sections of short scrambling. And then our guide turned his head, “Oh that bit there was the Grand Colouir”, which despite it being the middle of the night and so unlikely to be full of falling rock was a bit odd to just get through without realising we’d passed one of the main objective dangers of the route. Then the scrambling proper started, and as I said to the other two on the rope at the time, I really enjoyed it. Despite that, our rope was slow going up the rock in the dark, with fresh snow on route and the light at the top signifying the hut seeming close at first but never getting any closer despite plenty of effort. Technically the route is simple stuff and with plenty of cable and stanchions there’s very little to get concerned about. It was just important at this stage to not think too far ahead, and instead just to enjoy a warm up to the rest of the route.
Two hours later at around 4:15am, we came up and onto the balcony area of the Goûter hut. Quickly inside we were able to grab a quick drink, put on extra layers and leave our helmets behind before heading back out into the darkness to crack on. So on went the overtrousers, the balaclava and my big gloves over the thinner pair I’d scrambled in, and out we went again.
The slope out of the hut was immediately steep, but only for about 15m or so before levelling out and giving us views up the Dôme du Goûter with a line of small white lights slowly snaking their way upward toward the top. After the plateau we were traversing the slope upward at decent pace, not really concerned by just how small the lights had been on such a huge mass. Around an hour and a half after leaving the Goûter hut we reached our highest point on the Dôme, the sky no longer dark but instead full of brilliant reds and oranges signifying the day was coming.
From the Dôme du Goûter toward the summit, Vallot refuge at top of shadow (Photo credit: Paul G)
Reaching the crest and looking toward the rest of the route, it was clear whilst we’d come a long way, that there was still plenty to do before we were at the top (hopefully the little dots in the front of the picture below help with scale). So we headed down and then up toward the refuge, aware we’d soon have a chance to stop again and take on fluids and food. The slope was short but it was where I felt my legs starting to tire ever so slightly, but it was pleasing to have covered so much of the route without feeling the exertion or altitude much (particularly as we were now over 4300m at the refuge).
The Vallot refuge lives up to the hype, you really wouldn’t want to stay there, it’s a place where you stop for long only if you really have to. It’s dirty, full of rubbish, cold and uncomfortable, but as it’s no doubt saved lives, incredibly useful too! I cracked open the fizzy cola bottles I’d been carrying, which were greeted with smiles from the other two, and got my snow goggles, micro fleece and Stroke Association running vest (I climbed for charity in memory of my Granddad who’d died almost a year to the day of the ascent) out for the final section. Stood around waiting for even a short while in the refuge I soon became cold, in particular and worrying at the time was that my toes were freezing (the coldest they were all trip). Leaving the hut I had a tiny falling out with another English chap who thought his photograph of the Dôme was more important than safely allowing a single climber who looked shaky plenty of room on the rocks beneath the refuge… ahem. Crossing the rocks and back on route we spotted the last rope team coming up the slope, so we checked how they were doing, and decided to quickly go back into the refuge to wait for them and move together.
Beginning the traverse up toward Bosses Ridge at about 60-70m above the refuge, the other team member on the rope started to struggle particularly badly with his breathing and asked for a quick break. As we stood talking about whether he could continue, the weather began to show what it was capable of; with the wind sending lumps of snow sideways through the air, pounding us from the left. The other group found us chatting and had similar news, with one on that rope also struggling with the altitude. So quickly the ropes teams were changed completely, one team descended back toward the refuge, we turned our attention upward toward an increasingly wind swept ridge.
The trail felt steadily steep but nothing too bad, it was the combination of dropping temperature and winds reaching 60-70km/h (at one point it nearly took me off my feet) that were really starting to drain me of energy as we plodded upward ever slower, rarely looking up but aware that the top ahead wasn’t the summit but another point on the ridge. It was now that I really benefited from wearing my big gloves (Black Diamond Guides), snow goggles (Julbo Revolutions, a guy from the group wearing glacier glasses got mild snow blindness), and fleece/balaclava, others were caught out by the change in conditions. A couple of times the ridge narrowed, in particular one snow arête felt airy but the steady pace and focus on the goal ahead meant it did little to phase us. My legs began to complain a lot, my breathing told me I was getting high, but the pace and fact I’d managed to really hydrate meant I avoided the headaches that had been a problem in Switzerland. After plenty of hard work and false summits the route began to flatten out, 5 minutes later the ridge we were on started to curve downward… we’d reached the summit some 6 and a quarter hours after starting our ascent.
On the summit of Mont Blanc (4808m, the highest point in Western Europe)
It was quite a feeling, and one that words do little to help explain. Stood looking across a beautiful panorama of snowy peaks, having made the top after worries of my condition prior and with the ascent made in memory of my Granddad, it was a wide range of emotion that swept across me. Put simply though, realising I’d made it when the slope stop gaining height was without doubt one of the most special moments of my life so far.
The final section from the Vallot refuge to the summit was by far the hardest part of the ascent, but the descent was the real killer and the most dangerous part of the climb. Coming back down from the route, me leading the rope, I came across a team of 3 with the 2 lowest on the rope on their stomachs shuffling down the snow arête… absolutely crazy and making things particularly dangerous for the other teams trying to cover the exposed sections quickly/safely, so we dropped down to the side and quickly passed them. Back toward the Goûter hut didn’t feel so bad; but I was really surprised just how much distance we’d covered coming up. By the time we reached the hut itself we were both shattered, the other rope member couldn’t stomach any food, whereas I had no problem putting away most of a sandwich I’d bought 3 days earlier in Chamonix along with a can of Orangina (this was all I’d eaten along with a piece of stale bread and some fizzy cola bottles all day).
Looking back up the Dôme du Goûter on descent (Photo credit: Paul G)
Descending to the Tête Rousse was horrific, the route had iced up and was thick with groups, of varying competence, climbing up toward the Gouter hut to stop off before their attempted ascent. The extra numbers meant we had rocks flying past us throughout the descent, and had to lose the main line and attempt trickier (but often less icy sections) to make progress down. Toward the Grand Colouir things got really busy as people looked up and hesitated, almost expectant of hearing (the at this point of the day regular) screams from those above warning of falling rocks. We’d just made it across when a volley of rocks started to thunder down toward our position, so we quickly climbed up and out of the way, looking back to a queue waiting to cross behind us. And then soon we back on the glacier, by now feeling exhausted as well as jubilant that we were nearly back and our work done. After a short stop, another can of Orangina and a slow plod down over rock to the train station we were done. Finally back in Les Houches at 5pm, I just lay down in the car park, by now unable to care where I stopped, just content I could stop and rest, having done what I’d set out to achieve.
Mont Blanc is a truly incredible mountain, which is worthy of a lot more respect than it receives from people who fail to appreciate just how difficult and potentially dangerous the peak is to ascend (and descend). I was shocked at how ill equipped and incompetent some “climbers” on the route around us were; it’s reputation and status draw far too many people to make the attempt. It’s my first time on such a busy high mountain route, and I’m not rushing back to do something similar. Despite this the experience was incredible and the feelings at the top will stay with me for a very long time, if not forever. The route whilst busy and featuring a couple of snow plods is actually fairly mixed and enjoyable, the scramble is fun and the Bosses ridge to delivers you to the summit is a perfect mix of hard work, spectacular views and exposure to see you to the top of Western Europe. There’s enough other great routes up Mont Blanc that I’m in little rush to go back up via the Goûter, but just because it’s the “normal” way up doesn’t mean it’s not without excitement and splendour. Back down in the valley, laying exhausted in the cable car station car park in Les Houches, I could barely move to smile but inside I was over the moon, and already planning my next trip to the Alps.
Allalinhorn WNW Ridge
Posted by Ian in Ascents - Over 3000m, Mountains on September 2nd, 2009
For our third and final 4000m peak in the Saastal we decided to go for the Allalinhorn (4,027m), which on the other side of the valley gave us a change of scenary as well as a couple of options when it came to the walk-in/ascent. Like the other side of the valley there was plenty of uplift, so we could either “enjoy” a 2hour 500m ascent or traverse for 45mins with minimal change in height to the Britannia hut where we’d be staying the night. After that we’d have the option of a long ascent of the Hohlaubgrat (PD+) or shorter snow plod of the the WNW ridge (F+, considered the second easiest ascent of a 4000m peak in the Alps).
Allalinhorn from the Mittel Allalin metro station, route visible behind me on right flank
Coming down from the Lagginhorn a couple of days earlier I was struggling, the attempt had hurt me physically (my toe nails were turning black, I can’t emphasise enough how important trimming nails right back is!) and mentally (I was worried how badly I’d been affected by altitude and also the fatigue I’d felt so soon in the trip). But after a chat with one of our guides over an ice cream, the chance to sit with a pint in the sun wearing soft shoes and a long sleep I felt better if not still sore as we set off on the bus to Saas Fee the next day. An hour spent rock climbing in big boots was unexpectedly a big turning point; it was great to just enjoy myself climbing leisurely in the morning sun. Laying eating lunch in the shade afterward, I was still suffering physical discomfort but mentally I felt refreshed and positive that whatever lay ahead I’d be able to give 100% to.
Climbing below Saas Fee in the morning sun, great fun!
We decided upon the longer more scenic route that saw us take the cable car to Pattjen (2567m) and then move steadily over a mixture of trail, rock and near the top snow and a dry glacier to the Brittania Hut at (3029m). The steady gradient and amazing views back over the valley to where we’d been for the first half of the week made the walk in enjoyable. There was a short section where holding onto cable and making use of the bolted on rocks was pretty much a necessity, which was quite obviously out of the comfort zone of some taking an afternoon stroll but apart from that it’s nice easy going. Plodding up the dry glacier to the hut my feet hurt but having loosened the laces at the front and tightening the laces more so than usual at the ankle I kept my swollen big toes well away from the front of the boot. On top of my feet feeling better, I’d really enjoyed the day and was eagerly looking forward to the ascent of the Allalinhorn.
Dry glacier beneath the Britannia hut, hut is on top of the snowy ridge to left of shot
After thinking it over on the approach I was ready to pass on the option of the Hohlaubgrat, despite how fantastic the route sounded, for the easier plod of the normal route up the WNW ridge. The easier route would get me back up to altitude with less potential damage done to my feet and also being shorter meant we could be slightly more leisurely, so reducing the chance of getting bad AMS as I had on the Lagginhorn. With just 500m of ascent to the summit thanks to us being able to catch the metro, it meant another hour and a half in bed, fantastic!
Looking East toward the Britannia hut
Hearing other groups wake up early, I’ll admit it was with a smile that I pulled the quilt up and went back to sleep, before waking up at 5:30am for breakfast and a start to an ascent that felt odd without the need for a headtorch. The walk over to the metro station was a simple 30min (notes said 45mins) brisk stroll with a few sections over rocky and slightly icy ground
Out of the metro station and onto the platform we looked up toward the Allalinhorn, with a piste of ever growing numbers of skiers (I guess you’d count them as an objective danger) infront of the route proper. Shortly after leaving the platform we stopped to put on crampons, noting that the slope would soon steepen and the flatter ground was obviously a better place to sort out (others didn’t think so far ahead…). Making our way over the piste and dodging lifts/skiers we were soon onto the trail. Passing quickly below some ice cliffs, we were at the one open crevasse on the route which required a big stride (even bigger for me at only 5′8!) to get over safely. After this the route returns to a snow plod, with some sections steeper than before but never much to really be considered hard work. After just over an hour we reached the ridge that joins the Allalinhorn and Alphubel, with absolutely stunning views South West toward the Matterhorn and Mont Blanc (one of those views that a photo just cannot do justice I’m afraid, well at least one I take). Turning left it’s a case of heading up the ridge a steady gradient, toward the top we crossed some slightly rocky ground underneath the summit before making our way around to the South and up to the short ridge that leads to the summit.
Final ridge line to the summit of the Allalinhorn
We quickly crossed the ridge to find a summit with just enough room to take a quick photo and shoot off before a couple of large groups joined the throng crowded around the marker on the rocky exposed top. Heading back down from the ridge to a spot where we could have some food/drink quickly I realised I was still smiling, that my breathing was normal and my head was clear, I’d cracked 4000m!
On the summit of the Allalinhorn
Looking from the summit toward the metro station, it’s in the middle on the ridge
Descent was short and mostly simple despite the need to keep stepping off trail as large numbers of people came up the same route, and after getting across the crevasse and dodging skiers we were back at the metro station to enjoy a soft drink before making our way back down into the valley.
After the two other ascents it was noticeable how easy the WNW ridge route of the Allalinhorn felt, it was about half the ascent and now much better acclimatised it felt like a nice morning walk. For those just wanting to get over 4000m in the Alps it’s a fairly obvious choice, although the crevasse and ice cliffs mean the route isn’t without dangers. I enjoyed the day but from talking to the other rope team it’s obvious that Hohlaubgrat makes for a much better ascent. Without doubt there are far more interesting and exciting routes in the vicinity but there’s plenty going for the WNW ridge for those wanting to pick up a simple 4000 or as part of acclimitisation for attempts on higher peaks. I had a fun morning out and had regained the focus I’d struggled with earlier in the trip, infact I now couldn’t wait to get over to Chamonix and check out Mont Blanc.
Lagginhorn WSW Ridge
Quick note: Apologies for delay before this write up! I’ve been busy looking to buy my first house, which is hard work… particularly when so few come with the perfect kit room and space to build bouldering problems! Back to the write up…
Early afternoon down at the Weissmies Hütte (2,726m) following a successful traverse of the Weissmies (4017m) we were allowed the chance to relax with cold drinks (i.e. a couple of beers) and size up the challenge for the next day, the Lagginhorn (4,010m). After a mainly snow route the first thing that hit home looking up at the Lagginhorn was the amount of exposed rock, in particular the ridge we intended to ascend via showed only minimal snow cover toward the top. A PD ascent of the WSW ridge would give us more time on a glacier (albeit one considered dead or as good as, meaning it’s stopped moving and danger posed by crevasses is far lower), plenty of scrambling and then a steep snow plod to the rocky summit.
Lagginhorn from Weissmies hut garden, WSW ridge going up left flank
Still tired from the ascent of the Weissmies, we spent the day lazing around at the hut, glancing up from out drinks/books from time to time to the Lagginhorn and the clouds that swirled quickly over the summit. After another huge hut dinner we ventured back outside to savour the spectacular views, as the last rays of sun hit the huge peaks of the Mischabel chain.
View over Mischabel and the Weissmies hut
Waking up felt particularly hard, and the stale bread coupled with bad coffee increased the feeling of early morning nausea. Yet feeling a little worse for wear I thought was normal, so I busied myself getting ready and outside by quarter past 5 as had been agreed. The 45 minute or so walk up to the glacier felt fine, with only some steep sections and a pace that I found made me breathe hard but not enough to leave me breathless. After crossing a couple of snow fields we were looking at the glacier, shades of red appearing over the peaks/ridges surrounding us.
We split into the rope teams as per the day before, with us moving on ahead as a 4 and the second team on a rope of 2 following at a slightly slower pace behind us on the glacier. The slope began gradually and then steadily increasing in steepness, until a traverse over to the ridge toward the top of the glacier. By now the nausea I’d felt earlier was back and getting worse, so I asked if it would be possible to hold on for the second rope and go up the ridge slower.
The rocky WSW ridge of the Lagginhorn from the top of the glacier
On the slower rope and heading up the ridge we got stuck into the first scrambling of the day, which was pretty simple at first as we kept mostly to the crest. Occasionally it felt as though things got considerably more exposed and tricky all at once but this may have been as we lost the best line, overall there was nothing really tricky and we moved steadily upward. Despite things being pretty simple, the ridge felt particularly long and takes up a considerable portion of the overall ascent time. It felt technically on par with the Weissmies scrambling although lengthier and at times our line made it feel ever so slightly more difficult, so it was a decent progression from the day before.
With about 200m left of ascent we came across snow again, so we stopped briefly to put on crampons and grab a drink. At this point I was very much relieved to have completed what appeared to be the largest part of the ascent and able to see what was left; a steep snow plod for the most part. The next 50m of the slope was awful though, with the nausea I’d coped with earlier becoming a lot worse, the slope being quite icey in places as well as steep and finally the real sucker punch was losing my sense of balance. I stopped the team and asked for a quick breather to compose myself, saying if I needed to call it again we’d need to descend. Within a minute I’d had to really plunge the ice ax into the slope to keep my balance and called it off as my footwork was awful. I’d never experienced AMS quite like this; it was shocking how quickly how things went from bearable to quite scarily not. I’m still at a bit of a loss to explain why on this climb it hit so hard, after all I’d gone higher the day before and felt hydrated on the ascent.
Despite being a bit tired and my big toes hurting (school boy error: I didn’t trim them right back. Yes, they’re black and soon to fall off. Don’t fret no photos below!) started to enjoy myself on the descent. There were a couple of points where it made sense to turn into the slope and down climb but nothing tricky, just a case of following the painted red marks over the rocks. After what seemed a long rock descent we were back at the glacier and the other rope team soon with us to talk about a (loose in places) rocky exposed summit after a progressively harder/icier final section.
From the ridge to the glacier on our descent
I guess this article is as much about my experience as the route. It’s been a real pain to write as I’m naturally competitive with myself, so having to call off an ascent due to how I felt physically was really hard and continues to frustrate me (even now almost a month later). But getting back down I was happy that despite struggling with the altitude I was capable of making the right decision for the safety of all of us on the rope. It was a tough day and a hard call, but sat in the cable car on the way down to Saas Grund looking back up at the Lagginhorn I was able to smile briefly and tell myself “I’ll be back up there soon enough”.
Back down in the valley my big toes looked an absolute state and fears I’d over done it with exercise prior and turned up tired started to really get to me. Yet it’s amazing what a beer, decent night sleep in a hotel and then rock climbing in the morning sun (wearing big B3 boots) can do. Next up was the Allalinhorn (4,027m), my final chance to get above 4000m before heading to Chamonix for Mont Blanc.
Weissmies SSE/WNW traverse
Posted by Ian in Ascents - Over 3000m, Mountains on August 10th, 2009
The Weissmies (4017m) in the Eastern Valais Alps of Switzerland, is justifiably one of the most popular 4000ers, with uplift (i.e. cable cars to 3100m) if desired and then good huts as a base for attempts on interesting/varied routes to the summit. So a PD (what the hell does PD mean? check out Alpine Grading on Wikipedia) traverse of the peak made sense as our first goal for the week.
Weissmies summit ridge arête
After acclimatizing on the Jegihorn via ferrata and a night down in Saas Grund to relax, we made our way to Saas Almagell (1672m) on the bus, where we began our walk up to the Almageller hut (2894m). The approach route we took was fairly pleasant, with the first section through a wooded area that opened up to a valley with the old hut (now turned into a bar/hotel) about half way serving us cold soft drinks that we greatly appreciated on a break from the scorching heat of the midday sun.
Steady trail between wooded area and traverse up to Almageller hut
Up the valley and traversing North East the trail whilst not exactly steep, soon gains ground and the group rope was passed around (I’d had enough after the middle couple of hours hauling it… it was my birthday!). After about 4hrs walking from Saas Almagell we were at the hut, looking up to SSE ridge of the Weissmies and back behind us to the absolutely stunning Mischabel chain.
View toward the Weissmies’ SSE ridge from the Almageller hut
With a storm set to roll over the range in the late evening we set about eating plenty of the good hut food (amazing what they’re capable of with supplies that need bringing up via helicopter!) and trying in vain to get some sleep in the dorms (they’re not the quietest of places) before our 4:30am breakfast. The storm came and whilst not big by standards for the area, when coupled with some loose shutters and constant rumbling/flashes of thunder, was enough to make sure we only had minimal rest that night.
Bleary eyed we sat at breakfast, with awful (but turned about to be the best of all hut) coffee, muesli (again this turned out to be a luxury) and stale bread (the bread was always stale). Just a quick observation, but has anyone ever seen anyone looking remotely happy/excited to be up at 4:30am (or earlier!) to go out in the cold/dark to climb? I know I’d rather have had another 15mins in bed!
Yet by about 5:10am we were all outside, and after 10mins fiddling with kit and blinding each other with head torches, we were ready to get cracking. “You’re taking turns with the rope, yeah? Okay well you take it at first”, so I had the rope again to help wake me up even quicker. We shot off, eager to cover the first section and get onto the ridge proper before the other teams preparing by the hut, and soon found ourselves lost in a huge boulder field in the dark, sliding all over the place. Thankfully we were soon out of the boulders and onto a fairly gentle slope of snow up toward the col (Zwischbergenpass, 3268m) and the ridge we were after.
After some walking over rocky terrain we popped up over the top of the lower ridge and looked down onto the snow slopes on the Northern side as the sun really started to come up and spread light over the range. A quick stop to pop crampons on and rope up, and we were off, now as a rope of 4, with 2 of the team turning back with 1 person struggling with the altitude and feeling generally unwell.
The snow slope wasn’t too eventful, although a couple of sections of steeper gradient had me even more out of breath and thankful when things became more shallow. As we reached the top of the slope and the rocks at around 3700m the altitude really started to kick in with a headache growing and with my breathing struggling to keep up with the less thin air, dehydration kicked in again as it had done on the previous climb. Yet the stop to take crampons off for the rock scramble meant a quick pause and chance to take on liquid, that helped clear my head and focus on the next task.
I’d wondered what PD translated to and found to my relief that on the Weissmies it was nice simple scrambling, easier than some of the longer sections on for example Tryfan’s North Ridge (grade 1). However, whilst fairly simple stuff, the altitude makes things more tiring and a couple of moves did feel quite airy as we went close to the sides of the main crest. After around an hour and a half of climbing we reached a plateau at just short of 4000m and with it we were back onto snow again. After speedily devouring a sandwich I’d bought the day before in Saas Grund and taking on copious amounts of water we were up again and plodding carefully to the summit.
The short snow arête that leads to the top whilst not difficult is worth taking time over, not just because of the seriousness of a fall here but because of the amazing setting and means to the summit. Within a minute we were on top, celebrating our first 4000er of the trip with an absolutely fantastic view over the tops of the other large peaks around us and the clouds that lay around their mid-sections, down in the valley between.
On the summit of the Weissmies
Looking West from the summit of the Weissmies
We descended at decent pace and as we went my head cleared, allowing me to think clearer and concentrate easier on the terrain which by now was snow of varying degrees of steepness. About half way down, our guide asked how were doing with layers and if with the sun up we wanted to lose some clothes to our packs before we had to get past the objective danger posed by seracs. After this quick stop the pace increased considerably as we raced past the towers of ice looming above the trail and down onto the glacier to deal with a smattering of crevasses on much shallower terrain.
View back up the glacier toward the Weissmies. Summit peaking over the middle left
This final part of the walk was soon over, and by midday we were at the Hohsaas cable car station, able to enjoy a cold drink and ice cream over discussion of what had been an enjoyable climb and then onto what lay ahead for us. Finishing off and with the day still ahead we then made our way down toward the Weissmies hut where we’d stay the night, with our goal for the next day, the Lagginhorn, looming behind us to the East.
The altitude hurt going up but I absolutely loved the Weissmies traverse and of all the routes I completed during the trip, it’d be the first I’d go back to do again. The scramble was fun and made me work hard enough at altitude to feel I was really putting in a decent shift as I made my way over 4000m for the first time on the trip. And that final snow arete to the summit is just fantastic, a really great way to lead up to the top.
Jegihorn via ferrata
For acclimatization before attempts on 4000m peaks in the Saastal, the group made the way up the Hohsaas lift to Kreuzboden at 2400m and then along a trail to the North East to the foot of the Jegihorn (3206m). By this time we’d already spotted the summit cross and the high wire that offered a means of getting from the face we’d climb, over to the highest point of the mountain.
Wire crossing from 3/4 way up the Jegihorn via ferrata
The route begins at around 2800m and starts steadily with little more than exposed walking, which helped get quickly used to the idea of using the lanyards. Lanyards for those who’ve never used or heard of them are basically two carabiners on cord that attach through your harness and clip onto to the cable. Using the system soon becomes second nature, with the cord moving up the route alongside you and then when you reach a bolt, unclipping the top carabiner and moving it beyond the bolt, then doing the same with the lower, meaning you’re always attached, simple/effective = good.
My first reaction to the route was to use rock and only use the cable for clipping in, but as the rock became more rotten and loose I switched to making use of the cable for the majority of the time, as dictated by our guide “stop messing about with the rock and use the cable” (it may have been more bluntly put than that). With other people on route it’s sensible when the rock is loose to make full use of the cable but some advice, consider how your hands will cope with pulling on a cable for a couple of hours, particularly in this case if the weather is very hot and you’re sweating. If in doubt take thin durable gloves!
My hands suffered through over use of the cable
The cable runs almost the entire route and for the majority you’d be wise to stay clipped in given the seriousness of a slip on the terrain. There’s variety thrown in when you reach points where ladders, metal rungs and other attachments provide means of ascending. The exposure didn’t really bother me but there was one particular section that is as close to “knife edge” as I’ve encountered that took me back a little, but it’s nothing overly tricky. Over half way through the route, our group not possessing much climbing experience avoided the rope wire crossing option as it leads to a section more akin to a rock climb, instead opting for a drop down to a continuation of the scrambling with a “fun” part of steep rock that you needed to make use of small footholds and lean back whilst holding the cable to shimmy across.
“Fun” on the Jegihorn
Being my first via ferrata and unsure what grade it is (and how the VF grading works), I can only really compare it to scrambling I’ve done previously. Having spent quite a lot of time scrambling recently (on almost exclusively UK grade 1 routes) and starting to wall climb, I found myself really comfortable for the majority of the route apart from when I opted for the wrong move and made it more tricky than it should’ve been. The exposure didn’t bother me but there were times when it was quite airy. We all wore our large insulated boots for the route which were fine. Having said that, in summer conditions it would’ve made more sense to wear a lighter and not quite so warm boot if the option was available.
In terms of acclimatising it would’ve been perfect, had I not tried to get away with 1 litre of water and ended up feeling horribly dehydrated, which made the descent unpleasant over loose rock.
Jegihorn summit looking out toward the Mischabel chain
Overall, I really enjoyed trying out via ferrata, but in a funny way I felt it was potentially more dangerous than normal scrambling, as the attachment to the cable gave a feeling of safety that’s a bit false, as you’re still falling over rock if you slip! Still once you’re into moving with the cable it can speed up the ascent and the attachments provide interest and variety in the route. Definitely something I’m keen to try out again and a good way of experiencing fantastic routes and even more exposure than you’d normally be comfortable with.
Alps 2009 Trip
Just returned from a tough but really successful trip to the Alps. As there’s so much to get down into words and write up, I wanted to give a quick summary of what’s coming…
- Write ups of the Jegihorn via ferrata, Weissmies SSE/WNW traverse (PD), Lagginhorn WSW ridge (PD) and Allalinhorn WNW ridge (F+) routes taken from Saas Grund and the huts we stopped in.
- Some of the bits of kit that worked fantastically well and bits I’ll be disposing of.
- And finally a piece on how it all came together so that on the 4th August at 8:15am GMT I reached the summit of Mont Blanc via the Gouter route.
I learnt lots out there, not just about how to tackle 4000m peaks in the Alps but also what I really enjoy and what I need to work on that’ll shape/change my plans for 2010/2011, that I hope to come back with more on soon. And with parents moving (read clearing out the loft), there’s a few photos come to the surface that will help explain a little about what started all of this off.
Just need a quick lay down and to compose myself and we’ll be off!
On top of Mt Blanc
Helvellyn via Striding Edge… at night!
One of those (should be rare) occasions when a throw away comment was seized upon without any serious consideration.
I wanted to try something non Snowdonia and my mate back from a stint in the Dolomites needed to be back for a new job starting early on Sunday. We’d spoke about the Lake District and I’d bought a few extra guide books to check routes. Then out of nowhere my friend suggested we could always leave after I finished work on Friday and try a familiar route, but in the middle of night. “Yeah, that sounds great!” And so that was that. We agreed to head back up Helvellyn via Striding Edge (we’d been up together in September 2008) by torch light and wild camp on the summit which we knew was flat/grassy in areas.
Having made it to the “hole in the wall” just before Striding Edge.
Serious problems such as a lack of transport and tent were amazingly easy to sort, so after a casual trip to a supermarket on Friday night we were on our way up the M6 to the Lake District.
As before we parked up in Pattersdale in what is a fairly large car park opposite a hotel toward the Northern end of the village. Not sure about parking charges, we slowly got our kit together whilst having a beer and reminding ourselves of the route, waiting for the clock to tick over midnight to allow us to pay for a full day of parking.
So at 12:01 we paid our £3.50 for the day, took a few quick photos, turned on our head torches and began off down the road.
The Kit
Worth covering off what I took for the night. So along with sustenance (i.e. beer, a disposable BBQ and meat to cook), I packed the following kit into my 70l Arc’teryx Naos rucksack:
- Sleeping bag – I took my MacPac Sanctuary 700 down sleeping bag as it’s actually lighter/warmer than my other bag. Knew it’d be too warm, but rather that than being too cold!
- Thermarest – Mine is a trail lite which seems to be a decent mix of comfort and weight for whenever I’ve used it.
- Smock – Rab Generator smock, which I didn’t need but for it’s weight and extra warmth is great to carry. And it made a pretty good pillow too.
- First aid kit
- Lighter
- Knife
- Stove/Gas/Kettle
- Map and Compass
- Oh and I packed everything in stuff it waterproof sacks to help keep it organised and dry in the tent if worse came to worse.
I then wore the following up…
- Jacket – The trusty Mountain Equipment Kongur once again blocked out some pretty nasty gusts of wind on Striding Edge.
- T-shirts/Base layers – So long sleeve Helly Hansen active base layer with active material t-shirt over.
- Trousers – Mountain Equipment schoeller material Liskamm. Just got these for the Alps and I’ve been impressed so far, nice stretchy material that is water resistant and the reinforced knees are great for scrambling. However, they’re not massively warm when it gets really windy/cold.
- Boots – More time spent in my Sportiva Nepal Evos to just get feet as used to them as possible. Way way too hot for the most part but that’s good to know.
- Head torch – Petzl Tikka, decent light even on lowest setting made walking in the dark pleasant.
- Spare stronger torch – LED Lenser bright white torch I had hanging off my pack for when we wanted to check around further than head torches would show. Always handy to have second source of light to hand I think too.
The Route
From the car park in Pattersdale you make your way North out of the village, past the local mountain rescue and police station, where you take the first left over a small bridge. From there you avoid the first right turn and then at the next choice follow the road round to the right which is made easier by the big sign reading “Helvellyn >>”. The tarmac road carries on for another 5-10mins, and toward the end opens up to give you (given weather) your first views up toward where you’re going, with a large ridge to your right.
You’re soon off the road, and heading toward the ridge and through a gate onto more rocky/muddy group that will continue for some time. It was here in the dark that we began to really need our head torches, so as not to twist our ankles on uneven ground and with cloud cover becoming thicker and so blocking out light from the moon. Funny thing was that with head torches on all these pairs of white dots appeared all around us, which even though we knew it was sheep was a little disconcerting!
Once you’ve turned onto the ridge, get ready for a pretty long trudge uphill. The gradient is nice but with a few sections of loose rock and a decent sized pack, we definitely felt this part of the walk, in particular as we hit the rock steps that signify the “hole in the wall” is close.
Going through the “hole in the wall”, we stopped briefly to talk about the next section and take in the view back toward a lit up Kendall far away in the distance. It was at this new height we realised the wind had picked up and with it the temperature had plummeted. So extra layers were applied and some food/drink quickly taken on board before we set off to tackle Striding Edge.
Having tackled the ridge before (in thick cloud), we knew what to expect and where it narrowed which helped a lot. However, with heavier packs on (roughly 12/13kg), we felt the wind on the exposed ridge even more so as it tugged at us and sent us off balance. Yet despite this we carried on across the top apart from a few sections where it was sensible to drop off to avoid anything too narrow where we’d be taking a risk should a strong gust to come across the ridge (by my reckoning in the region of 50mph gusts).
Having just finished Striding Edge as the sun starts to rise.
Reaching the end of the ridge and down climbing off toward the final section of ascent to the summit of Helvellyn, we noticed a red glow to the North East from behind Catstye Cam. Pictures cannot do it justice, the flickering red glow from behind the sharp point of the mountain with wind causing clouds to race in front of us, was absolutely breathtaking.
Sunrise over Catstye Cam from the end of Striding Edge.
Despite the cold we sat about for a good 15minutes taking photos and taking it in… after all we knew we’d be hitting the top of Helvellyn in thick cloud and now light.
This last section didn’t seem to take much time at all, going from the top of the slight ridge line to the right and winding up a path to the summit was a breeze compared to how I remembered it. And whilst we made this final climb, we moved further into the cloud and all around us grew lighter. A walk across the plateau past the shelter, summit marker (we got there at 3:35am) and finally by a cairn at the Northern end of the top we set up camp, where the ground allowed us to pitch the tent.
Never realised just how unsettling sheep could be…
Whilst watched by the occasional sheep we set up quickly, opened some wine and enjoyed a BBQ before collapsing into our sleeping bags. Despite being tired we didn’t get much sleep with the tent being battered by wind and rain. Somehow the tent survived and at 9:30am the next morning we felt rested enough to creep out and check out the view… of still thick white cloud. However, this soon this cleared and we were joined on the summit by a growing number of other walkers to enjoy the stunning view around.
Home for the night on Helvellyn.
After packing up, we tried in vain to find the water well noted on the map just South of the summit and then began our descent onto Swirral Edge. Despite weary legs and tiredness, we decided to have a quick “run” up Catstye Cam, from over which we’d seen the sun rise some 7hrs earlier and take the opportunity to look at Helvellyn and the two ridges leading to it’s plateau. From there we skirted round Red Tarn (that’s the lake between the ridges) and made our way back a slightly different route, which after jumping over a wall soon had us back to where we’d started.
Stood on Swirral Edge, eschewing the path for a rocky ridge.
It was great to try something different and get up onto Helvellyn at night to wild camp. Striding Edge is always an adventure, but at night in the cloud with strong gusts of winds it was a lot more so. We took it steady and made a couple of good calls to avoid even small sections of exposure, where it would’ve introduced risk that was unnecessary. Anyone contemplating walking at night, it may seem obvious but know the route well in daylight, do it in good weather and have a couple of escape strategies to hand.
Everest Base Camp – Training
Working out how best to train and prepare for the rigours of spending 2 weeks trekking in Nepal, at times over 5,000m is hard to work out for most who attempt the trek. Being one of the truly classic routes to trek in the world, a lot of people get their first taste of altitude walking to Everest Base Camp and go to Nepal not quite sure what to expect from it all.
I’d heard a lot about what to expect and some very different thoughts on training. I wasn’t sure if I’d done enough, so even though I know this isn’t going to completely clear doubts from someone who’s never attempted similar, I hope it at least give pointers as to what helped in the build up.
The majority of my training was quite simple really. I ran a couple of times per week during the 6months I had prior to the trip and spent weekends away walking up anything high I could think of and realistically get to.
Advice on training as an “Executive Summary”
(i.e. if you’ve seen the size of the article and don’t fancy reading it all)
- If you’re worried about your fitness, then do more. Don’t find out in the Himalaya that you can’t walk uphill for hours and hours each day.
- Don’t leave it until the last minute, I’d suggest building up slowly over 6 months.
- Mix your exercise/training so you don’t get bored.
- Walk in the mountains as much as is possible, with as many consecutive days as you can manage.
- Find a regular walking partner(s) for the days out to make it more fun.
- If you pick up a tweak/slight injury then stop and let it heal.
- Every time you’re exercising and feel like stopping for a breather, go a little further just to break down those mental barriers.
- Learn to walk uphill slowly as you’ll get AMS if you run up the hills in Nepal. Don’t get cocky through being over fit and ruin the trip. Pace is important!
- Learn to hydrate whilst exercising. I got used to carrying a couple of litres of water whilst walking and drinking it all and also running with a drink.
- Walk after little/no sleep (when it’s safe to do so!) to get used to switching off and ploughing through the miles.
- For all the physical training you do, remember a lot of what you encounter will push you mentally as well, be prepared to cope with discomfort but know when enough is enough.
- Enjoy yourself and remember why you’re doing it all… to go to one of the most incredible places on earth!
The Longer Notes
As a guide I left for Nepal on the 14th November, and began the trek on the 16th, making Everest Base Camp on the 23rd.
Running
When I booked the trip, I’d just started running, in order to ready myself for my first ever road race, the BUPA London 10k in May 2008, which I completed in 56mins 42secs.
Throughout the year I then ran the Sherwood Pines 10k, Lichfield 10k, Walsall 10k, Mallory Park 5k, Shugborough Hall 15k.
Finally on October 26th, just weeks before the trip I built up to running what turned out to be a very undulating Birmingham Half Marathon in 2hrs 6mins.
Walking
Whilst the running helped build overall fitness, actually getting up into the hills and walking was by far the best form of training for the trip, in particular when we strung a couple of days together with little sleep between. Looking back it was also experience in a variety of different environment and conditions that really helped test out kit and prepare us mentally for what was in store.
August 2nd – Peak District
Our first proper training walk was close by in the Peak District, in early August 2008 (so only 3 abd a half months before we left for Nepal). We ascended Mam Tor (517m) and then completing a ridge walk around Castleton. Putting extra weight on our back (6litres of water which put packs up to just over 8kg) was perhaps foolish, but sitting on top of Mam Tor we both realised how out of shape for walking up hills we were. We walked around 12miles that day and felt it the next.
Pushing yourself too far and scaring yourself with the idea of failure through lack of fitness is perhaps a good idea, as long as there’s time left to rectify that!
August 10th – Rutland Water
To get miles under our belts we then walked the main 17mile circuit of Rutland Water in hot weather. Whilst lacking the ups and downs we’d really benefit from, the walk was good for trying out some new kit and getting a long walk done together.
August 23rd/24th – Snowdonia
A real watershed for us was getting to Snowdonia and scaring ourselves to death in bad weather on Tryfan and then Crib Goch. We’d naturally picked the routes that were listed as the hardest in the guide books to push ourselves but got more than we bargained for. Tryfan started well but veering away from the main scramble we soon were out of our depth on the terrain and the weather closed in. After getting to the top we made a hasty descent and had a long talk about being more prepared/responsible about how we tackled mountains in the future. This was as we sat in the car, watching our tent get blown apart by strong wind… we slept in the car. And then the next day had it pulled out of the field it’d sank in.
After a quick breakfast we were at Pen y Pass to have a crack at the Snowdon Horseshoe, which despite the day before we felt confident about. Unfortunately weather again turned as we neared the top of Crib Goch and with wind pinning us to the rock at the start of the main ridge, we descended the shorter North Ridge which was a lot less windy, back into the Llanberis Valley. We walked to the car without much said and abandoned our plans for the next day. Beaten by Wales.
We saw the potential for mountains to turn lethal quickly and realised some of our kit was nowhere near good enough for bad weather. It was a wake up call beyond for the mental side required to be up high when invariably the conditions are far from perfect.
September 13th/14th – Lake District
With a selection of new kit to hand (and on foot) and new found respect for the mountains, we went to the Lake District for the weekend.
Our first day was spent doing a a long walk up Helvellyn via a very cloudy and quite wet Striding Edge, which we felt really comfortable on with the bad experience on a far more exposed Crib Goch still fresh in our minds. Then over Helvellyn Lower Man, White Side, Raise and Stybarrow Dodd before descent toward Glenridding. Shattered from a long day we went back to Kendall to the youth hostel where we were staying… and then out for the night around bars/clubs.
Next day after a short sleep and hung over, we were on our way to Wasdale, from where we walked to the top of Scafell Pike. The route we took was fairly direct, lacking much excitement and helped mentally prepare us for ascent when we felt like doing nothing other than sleeping.
Probably the best weekend of walking we did prior to the trip, as it combined a long walk with plenty of ascent on the first day, a poor night’s sleep (self inflicted but a lot of fun) and then another long day trudging up hill.
September 20th – Highlands
Then the next weekend we flew to Edinburgh, and made our way early on Saturday to Glencoe where we grabbed a few bits and then started up Ben Nevis. We made our ascent in thick cloud that from time to time broke. After a really long trudge we made it to a particularly cold and foggy summit. We had some food/water, took photos and then starting to really feel just how cold it was, hastily made our way down.
Wearing nearly all the layers we’d presumed we’d need for Nepal, yet still feeling cold was handy. Getting out in less the ideal conditions really help test our kit and the way in which we used it. Combined with a long walk up, it was again a really useful weekend.
October 4th – Snowdonia
Not wanting to be beaten by Snowdon, having reached the top of Scafell Pike and Ben Nevis, and despite warnings of bad weather we went back to Snowdonia. With bad weather already in the valley as we got near we decided to stick to the Miners Track but soon people we passed told us of lots of water on the path whilst others told us the path had disappeared. We kept going with wind gusting over 60mph and sideways rain to about the point where the Miners and Pyg tracks meet before slow progress and light fading forced us to call it a day.
Despite not making the top as had been the goal, we were pleased by how much we’d learnt since then, we never felt uncomfortable and turned back at the right time. Our kit for the most part also withstood what was really awful weather in Wales.
Bristly Ridge – The second of hopefully many ascents!
Posted by Ian in Ascents - Under 3000m, Routes on June 22nd, 2009
I’d scrambled up Bristly Ridge a few weeks before and enjoying myself so much, hadn’t taken any photos and on returning couldn’t shut up about it, to friends who climb with me. It was inevitable I’d be scrambling it again soon enough.
With the solstice weekend, came the promise of good weather for Snowdonia. So plans were made for a very similar trip to the one I’d undertaken on my own. Then the weather turned at the last minute to low/thick cloud cover so we delayed our start, and began our ascent of Tryfan at 10:30am on 20th June.
This time the climb was made in changing visibility and occasional rain, that made it more like my first time on the mountain. As we were both happy on the terrain, we eschewed the path at almost every opportunity we had to scramble. My alarm hadn’t gone off, so I’d set off late and had to have breakfast in the layby. The brioche I hastily consumed down at the foot of the mountain made me feel quite queasy going up, but the fun scrambling soon helped me feel fine.
It was the first time I’d completed the North ridge properly, as on previous days I’d always ended up on the East face coming up one of the gullys. This time we stuck to main ridge, following the crowds and had great fun despite some very wet and polished holds.
All too soon we’d made it to the summit, where we grabbed a quick drink/snack and laughed at the ironic cheers from those sat up on top, when a tiny amount of sun broke through the clouds.
Looking back to Tryfan from the start of Sinister Gully.
After a descent off the Southern ridge of Tryfan, we were soon ascending again beside a stone wall and then off to the side to the start of the scramble up Glyder Fach via Bristly Ridge.
The Route – “Bristly Ridge” ascent of Glyder Fach
You can either approach the start of the scramble which begins in Sinister Gully (cool name, no?) by following the trail up to the side of the wall and then going across 10 metres to the right (as we did) or up an obvious scree slope directly to find the gap, neither are tricky so it comes down to your preference.
The gully is between 1/2 metres wide in most places and has a fair amount of loose rock on the floor, so care is needed as you traverse inside the gully, that you don’t cover those behind you in rocks.
The climbing isn’t too tricky but it requires you to be confident. As we entered the gully, we spotted a group using a rope (likely a course I guess) which we thought was odd but given conditions it was sensible for people not used to the terrain. Most sections benefit greatly from being on one side of the wall you’re climbing, so have a quick think before rushing headlong at the next problem… which admittedly I sometimes do!
This time it being wet certainly made the gully more of a challenge and it showed, with several people slipping quite badly around me. The route was really busy with quite a queue forming, but quite why people insist on being so close to the person infront is beyond me, there were several points when I was worried a few people were going to end up falling into each other and down the gully. Maybe I’m different but I talk to people around me on routes, especially when it’s busy, as it seems courteous to me to warn those around you of problems or for example if you cross loose rock above them.
Helping point out holds to the next person coming up the gully.
Upon reaching the top, I was a bit shocked to see splatters of blood on the rocks and then the owner of the blood, a chap who’d slipped on the route and had cut above his eye quite nastily, a further reminder how serious it can be.
The gully is the most technical part of the route though, so once you’ve exited it there’s just a couple more decent pitches and exposure left to challenge you, the rest is really just a lot of fun. It’s a case of sticking as close to the top of the ridge as possible and enjoying yourself. Often a small path is available that sidesteps a problem, but there’s nothing as tricky as before in the gully so stick at it. And on the occasions when you look over a spike to a big drop, needles to say that’s not the way, so check to the side a bit for a decent and easy climb down.
Ascending Bristly Ridge to the summit of Glyder Fach
The route sadly has to end but it does so gracefully, coming up on top of Glyder Fach and fading as a line of rocks that point toward to the rocky summit and the Cantilever (see photo on Wikipedia article on Glyder Fach to see what this). We carried on to sit near the top for another drink, before scrambling over Castell Y Gwynt and then down the Cribin Ridge (listed as a Grade 1 scramble, we took a line off the main ridge which was okay for descent but not much fun) to enjoy views back from where we’d been over over Tryfan and Glyder Fach to our right, and the Carneddau infront.
Tryfan’s West face from the Cribin Ridge.
At the moment, Bristly Ridge when combined with Tryfan’s North Ridge is my favourite route in the UK. Doing it in wet conditions amongst a crowd showed me another side to the route, one that’s more challenging and also worrying, with too many people caught out of their comfort zone. But enough of the serious talk, the gully is great fun and the ridge airy enough at times to make you double check your footing. And the setting whether it was clear as before, or this time with clouds breaking around, is simply stunning. This is not a route to be rushed, get up early and enjoy it!
More information
Always carry my cicerone guide to “Scrambling in Snowdonia” by Steve Ashton which I’d recommend you’d take for any route in the area. I also posted links to details of scrambling on Tryfan/Glyder Fach on my previous day on the route.
Note: The first, third and fourth photos used in this article were taken by my scrambling partner for the day (Adele). So big thank you to her for letting me use the action shots!