A Slender Thread Part I
Ah, dear readers how time flies! So many months and so few blogs. Perhaps that's because I have not set foot on rock since my last adventure, well that's not strictly true - I have set foot on rock, but not in a traditional climbing sense...
Me not climbing. I'm about to head underground, the first in a series of recent underground adventures which time may allow me to blog in more detail when I have a second. Anyway back to the story.
I have in fact been on a climbing trip, it was a few months ago now, back in November and was the North Wales trip - the equivalent trip to this one when we *enjoyed* climbing sliming our way up the monster of Slanting Buttress Ridge Route on Lliwedd. It was quite amazing that we actually made the trip this time round as it was the few days between Storm Abigail and Storm Barney and the weather forecast for North Wales that weekend basically said "Don't come". I wish we hadn't. Still at the time it seemed like a good idea and we left Bristol on Friday lunchtime, me and a car full of people I hadn't met before all slogging the endless way up to North Wales. We arrived to a good amount of wind and rain but Dave, Legend of the Mountains, was optimistic that we'd get something done. In fact one of the options was a route I'd coveted since I'd first heard about it - it's called "Snakes, Tunnels and Ladders" and isn't really a climbing route more a navigation exercise which requires climbing skills - the route description begins: "Firstly I agree completely that this route is incredibly dangerous and should only be attempted by experienced climbers and those with good knowledge of the slate quarries.". Don't panic dear reader - this is mostly intended to stop those without the requisite experience having a go. The route is dangerous, sure, but pretty safe if you know what you are doing and given that Dave had been round it a couple of times beforehand I was happy we'd be OK.
The day started wet, as it continued, and we donned full waterproofs and headed into the quarries - the party was Dave, me and a chap called Dan. The weather forecast predicted very bad weather arriving later in the afternoon with high winds, massive wind chill and lots of rain but for the moment it was merely dreek. We got to grips with the route first ascending a monumental chain to a cave - this is the eponymous Snake.
I actually enjoyed this as it was effectively aid climbing, clipping a sling into a high link in the chain and then stepping up into it before clipping another sling, this one attached to your harness to take the weight off of your feet, thus allowing you to move the foot sling up and then step up into it and and repeat. I'd never done this before and enjoyed it - the only problem was that the massive chain we were ascending conducted heat away from hands very quickly so we all arrived at the top of the pitch with a minor case of hot aches (the sensation you have as a child when you've spent too long throwing snowballs with no gloves and your hands are frozen and then you put them under a hot tap to warm up - exquisite pain!). After this a combination of tunnels, abseils and scree scrambles took us to the first of the many ladders of the day. These are all rusty old ladders left from the days when the now abandoned mine was home to thousands of men working the slate, and enabled them to access the various bits of the quarry they needed to. Fifty years after the closure of the mine they are in a somewhat precarious state, still essentially sound but a little bit windy as they do tend to sway a little as you head up them!
An hour or so of ladders and route finding and we reached the highpoint of the route - a series of buildings at the top of the mines that had been thoughtfully wind-proofed recently by some enterprising soul, and which also contained some interesting memorabilia from the mining days - old tools and leather boots and whatnot. We had lunch here and I realised I was pretty much sodden and got a bit cold as we stopped moving. We headed quickly on and had a bit of a nightmare picking up the route again - we knew we had to make an abseil but couldn't work out where from so wasted some time tracking back and forth. We were all aware of the approaching storm and the tension ratchetted up a notch or four, the wind was gusting, we were cold and wet and in a distinctly inhospitable environment. At last we found the abseil and Dave proceeded down, I followed not without some faffery as I stuffed my abseil set up twice (not something I have ever managed to do before!) and had to go back up to sort it out with Dan's help.
Calamity struck here - at the bottom of the abseil you had to traverse to the left down a little ramp. You can see the ramp just below and to the left of me on this photo.
Normally this is OK, with dry rock as you can tension your weight on the rope and grip with your feet. Have I mentioned yet how sharp slate is? Think about that and then think about climbing ropes for a second. Have I also mentioned how slippy slate is when it is wet? Can you guess what happened? My old gripless hiking boots slipped and I pendulumed rightwards and my mind's eye instantly showed me a picture of the rope sawing against the sharp slate edge above. I fully expected to feel myself become weightless and drop the metre or two to the ground beneath me, landing heavily on my arse. Amazingly this didn't happen and I gently swung for a few seconds before Dave piped up "Just get the f**k off the rope mate". I released the rope and landed in a heap, feeling a prize wally. Dave sent me to the naughty step (the next abseil point) and told me to sit down and clip in. Dan arrived after me and my worst fears were realised - Dan had identified a spot on the rope where the slate had cut through the outer protective sheath of the rope. It was still usable for the moment but would need to be replaced. A costly error from me.
With the next abseil were in hole inside the mines and the wind and rain abated mercifully, we had a few seconds to collect our wits and enjoy not being pummeled by the elements. The hole we were in was incongruously carpeted with a lush covering of ferns, giving it an otherworld jungle feel. The relief was palpable. We only had a few more ladders and a tunnel to survive and we could escape, which we did. Here's a lovely long ladder and the jungle Ferns, easy to see why this part of the quarries is called "The Lost World".
It was nice to walk out on an easy track, back to Dan's car with its heaters and thence away back to the hut, a change of clothes (I was wet down to my pants), a shower, a cup of tea and blissfully - a watching of "The Last of the Mohicans" on someone's portable DVD player whilst eating Penang Curry Noodles for dinner.
That night and the next day brought rain, seething torrents of it, combined with howling winds. The river that runs by the hut rose and bellowed it's way past. Not a nice night to be out. I was last to bed but force of habit had me up at 6.30ish and the decision about whether to stay and try and get *something* done in the wet or just head for home was made ever so much easier as one of the guys on the trip lives close to me and I knew he was heading off home quickly. So without further ado we jumped in his car and escaped up roads that weren't sure if they were roads or rivers. I arrived home to an empty house (T was at her mum's for the weekend with the kids) at about two in the afternoon. By the time I'd had some lunch and sorted my kit out it was about four thirty so I ran a bath. I wondered whether four thirty was too early for a glass of wine but gave in, thinking I'd just log the route on UKC and check emails whilst the bath was running and then sink into a nice bath with a glass of wine.
Part II will follow, but not sure when. Here's a last pic - "Things to do in North Wales when it is raining!".
Me not climbing. I'm about to head underground, the first in a series of recent underground adventures which time may allow me to blog in more detail when I have a second. Anyway back to the story.
I have in fact been on a climbing trip, it was a few months ago now, back in November and was the North Wales trip - the equivalent trip to this one when we *enjoyed* climbing sliming our way up the monster of Slanting Buttress Ridge Route on Lliwedd. It was quite amazing that we actually made the trip this time round as it was the few days between Storm Abigail and Storm Barney and the weather forecast for North Wales that weekend basically said "Don't come". I wish we hadn't. Still at the time it seemed like a good idea and we left Bristol on Friday lunchtime, me and a car full of people I hadn't met before all slogging the endless way up to North Wales. We arrived to a good amount of wind and rain but Dave, Legend of the Mountains, was optimistic that we'd get something done. In fact one of the options was a route I'd coveted since I'd first heard about it - it's called "Snakes, Tunnels and Ladders" and isn't really a climbing route more a navigation exercise which requires climbing skills - the route description begins: "Firstly I agree completely that this route is incredibly dangerous and should only be attempted by experienced climbers and those with good knowledge of the slate quarries.". Don't panic dear reader - this is mostly intended to stop those without the requisite experience having a go. The route is dangerous, sure, but pretty safe if you know what you are doing and given that Dave had been round it a couple of times beforehand I was happy we'd be OK.
The day started wet, as it continued, and we donned full waterproofs and headed into the quarries - the party was Dave, me and a chap called Dan. The weather forecast predicted very bad weather arriving later in the afternoon with high winds, massive wind chill and lots of rain but for the moment it was merely dreek. We got to grips with the route first ascending a monumental chain to a cave - this is the eponymous Snake.
I actually enjoyed this as it was effectively aid climbing, clipping a sling into a high link in the chain and then stepping up into it before clipping another sling, this one attached to your harness to take the weight off of your feet, thus allowing you to move the foot sling up and then step up into it and and repeat. I'd never done this before and enjoyed it - the only problem was that the massive chain we were ascending conducted heat away from hands very quickly so we all arrived at the top of the pitch with a minor case of hot aches (the sensation you have as a child when you've spent too long throwing snowballs with no gloves and your hands are frozen and then you put them under a hot tap to warm up - exquisite pain!). After this a combination of tunnels, abseils and scree scrambles took us to the first of the many ladders of the day. These are all rusty old ladders left from the days when the now abandoned mine was home to thousands of men working the slate, and enabled them to access the various bits of the quarry they needed to. Fifty years after the closure of the mine they are in a somewhat precarious state, still essentially sound but a little bit windy as they do tend to sway a little as you head up them!
An hour or so of ladders and route finding and we reached the highpoint of the route - a series of buildings at the top of the mines that had been thoughtfully wind-proofed recently by some enterprising soul, and which also contained some interesting memorabilia from the mining days - old tools and leather boots and whatnot. We had lunch here and I realised I was pretty much sodden and got a bit cold as we stopped moving. We headed quickly on and had a bit of a nightmare picking up the route again - we knew we had to make an abseil but couldn't work out where from so wasted some time tracking back and forth. We were all aware of the approaching storm and the tension ratchetted up a notch or four, the wind was gusting, we were cold and wet and in a distinctly inhospitable environment. At last we found the abseil and Dave proceeded down, I followed not without some faffery as I stuffed my abseil set up twice (not something I have ever managed to do before!) and had to go back up to sort it out with Dan's help.
Calamity struck here - at the bottom of the abseil you had to traverse to the left down a little ramp. You can see the ramp just below and to the left of me on this photo.
Normally this is OK, with dry rock as you can tension your weight on the rope and grip with your feet. Have I mentioned yet how sharp slate is? Think about that and then think about climbing ropes for a second. Have I also mentioned how slippy slate is when it is wet? Can you guess what happened? My old gripless hiking boots slipped and I pendulumed rightwards and my mind's eye instantly showed me a picture of the rope sawing against the sharp slate edge above. I fully expected to feel myself become weightless and drop the metre or two to the ground beneath me, landing heavily on my arse. Amazingly this didn't happen and I gently swung for a few seconds before Dave piped up "Just get the f**k off the rope mate". I released the rope and landed in a heap, feeling a prize wally. Dave sent me to the naughty step (the next abseil point) and told me to sit down and clip in. Dan arrived after me and my worst fears were realised - Dan had identified a spot on the rope where the slate had cut through the outer protective sheath of the rope. It was still usable for the moment but would need to be replaced. A costly error from me.
With the next abseil were in hole inside the mines and the wind and rain abated mercifully, we had a few seconds to collect our wits and enjoy not being pummeled by the elements. The hole we were in was incongruously carpeted with a lush covering of ferns, giving it an otherworld jungle feel. The relief was palpable. We only had a few more ladders and a tunnel to survive and we could escape, which we did. Here's a lovely long ladder and the jungle Ferns, easy to see why this part of the quarries is called "The Lost World".
It was nice to walk out on an easy track, back to Dan's car with its heaters and thence away back to the hut, a change of clothes (I was wet down to my pants), a shower, a cup of tea and blissfully - a watching of "The Last of the Mohicans" on someone's portable DVD player whilst eating Penang Curry Noodles for dinner.
That night and the next day brought rain, seething torrents of it, combined with howling winds. The river that runs by the hut rose and bellowed it's way past. Not a nice night to be out. I was last to bed but force of habit had me up at 6.30ish and the decision about whether to stay and try and get *something* done in the wet or just head for home was made ever so much easier as one of the guys on the trip lives close to me and I knew he was heading off home quickly. So without further ado we jumped in his car and escaped up roads that weren't sure if they were roads or rivers. I arrived home to an empty house (T was at her mum's for the weekend with the kids) at about two in the afternoon. By the time I'd had some lunch and sorted my kit out it was about four thirty so I ran a bath. I wondered whether four thirty was too early for a glass of wine but gave in, thinking I'd just log the route on UKC and check emails whilst the bath was running and then sink into a nice bath with a glass of wine.
Part II will follow, but not sure when. Here's a last pic - "Things to do in North Wales when it is raining!".