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Inspired by another thread on 'ones's that got away', which features several routes on Cloggy, I thought it would be nice to gather the UKC collectives reminiscences of the best mountain crag in Wales.
From those typical brooding overcast days, when the clank of metal and the occasional squawking raven are the only sounds to accompany the wind, to those rare, yet glorious days when the sun shines and the Lord is truly in his armchair in heaven, Cloggy has to be one of the most atmospheric crags you'll climb on,
I've spent many memorable days soaking up the whole experience of the place, from that first full view at Half Way station, to the black lake of Llyn Du'r Arddu, and the complex and magnificent features of the crag itself. The whole crag radiates both history and adventure. Below is a post I made on another thread a while ago on Great Wall - Cloggy's best route? - but please add your own memories of this glorious crag.
Ever since I started climbing, Great Wall was something that inspired me. Soper Crew and Wilson's magnificent book The Black Cliff, black and white photo's in old Mountain Magazines. And then there was Drummond's brilliant essay in Hard Rock - "elephants bounced past trumpeting" with that perfect finishing sentence "Lovely boy Crew, arrow climber, wall without end."
When I finally did it, on a heavily overcast midweek day, the crag deserted, just one of my closest climbing friends (no longer with us) and the squawking crows and ravens for company, the mist hanging low, heavy and menacing, it was everything I imagined and hoped it would be.
Climbed in one pitch, the rock still seeping that cold wetness in places, the clink of runners on harness echoing eerily, anxious and excited in equal measures. Every move pulling me further in to the history, the folklore, the magnificence of the route.
At the ledge at half height, I took a rest, looked out over the black lake below and across towards the black clouds moving in from the coast.
"Doing well youth" drifted up from below, those dry dulcet tones providing just the reassurance I needed.
The groove, the crack, and the moves right to the ledge, fingers cold, arms tiring, head trying to avoid premature feelings of success, slow studied movement - a shouted laugh from below "don't blow it now kid" drifted up and echoed around the black cliff.
And then, I was there, the top, wet grass, and wet cheeks from a few small tears of joy.
As I bought the dulcet tones from below up, I have to admit, I felt extremely pleased with myself, and that fag, god that fag, tasted so so good, up there at the top of Great Wall, with the crows, the ravens, and the dream at last realised.
From those typical brooding overcast days, when the clank of metal and the occasional squawking raven are the only sounds to accompany the wind, to those rare, yet glorious days when the sun shines and the Lord is truly in his armchair in heaven, Cloggy has to be one of the most atmospheric crags you'll climb on,
I've spent many memorable days soaking up the whole experience of the place, from that first full view at Half Way station, to the black lake of Llyn Du'r Arddu, and the complex and magnificent features of the crag itself. The whole crag radiates both history and adventure. Below is a post I made on another thread a while ago on Great Wall - Cloggy's best route? - but please add your own memories of this glorious crag.
Ever since I started climbing, Great Wall was something that inspired me. Soper Crew and Wilson's magnificent book The Black Cliff, black and white photo's in old Mountain Magazines. And then there was Drummond's brilliant essay in Hard Rock - "elephants bounced past trumpeting" with that perfect finishing sentence "Lovely boy Crew, arrow climber, wall without end."
When I finally did it, on a heavily overcast midweek day, the crag deserted, just one of my closest climbing friends (no longer with us) and the squawking crows and ravens for company, the mist hanging low, heavy and menacing, it was everything I imagined and hoped it would be.
Climbed in one pitch, the rock still seeping that cold wetness in places, the clink of runners on harness echoing eerily, anxious and excited in equal measures. Every move pulling me further in to the history, the folklore, the magnificence of the route.
At the ledge at half height, I took a rest, looked out over the black lake below and across towards the black clouds moving in from the coast.
"Doing well youth" drifted up from below, those dry dulcet tones providing just the reassurance I needed.
The groove, the crack, and the moves right to the ledge, fingers cold, arms tiring, head trying to avoid premature feelings of success, slow studied movement - a shouted laugh from below "don't blow it now kid" drifted up and echoed around the black cliff.
And then, I was there, the top, wet grass, and wet cheeks from a few small tears of joy.
As I bought the dulcet tones from below up, I have to admit, I felt extremely pleased with myself, and that fag, god that fag, tasted so so good, up there at the top of Great Wall, with the crows, the ravens, and the dream at last realised.
22
In reply to Goucho:
Great post, thanks a lot, really resonates with me after many great days on Cloggy (not Great Wall though, sadly - a bit above my grade).
Great post, thanks a lot, really resonates with me after many great days on Cloggy (not Great Wall though, sadly - a bit above my grade).
1
In reply to Goucho:
You got it - evoked exactly the feelings without the effusiveness so many lapse into. I can't quite relate to Great Wall as I never got that good but your prose well sums up my own feelings on some of my best Cloggy leads - Troach, Jelly Roll, Shrike, Mostest, White, Bow Right Hand and on and on - sums it up precisely, even to the fag!
You got it - evoked exactly the feelings without the effusiveness so many lapse into. I can't quite relate to Great Wall as I never got that good but your prose well sums up my own feelings on some of my best Cloggy leads - Troach, Jelly Roll, Shrike, Mostest, White, Bow Right Hand and on and on - sums it up precisely, even to the fag!
2
In reply to Martin Bennett:
Jelly Roll is one of the best routes on the crag IMHO, and in such a wonderful position. Never got round to doing Mostest, but did do Woubits & Woubits Left Hand - always felt the climbing on the Far East Buttress had a unique feel about it - especially when the mist comes in
Jelly Roll is one of the best routes on the crag IMHO, and in such a wonderful position. Never got round to doing Mostest, but did do Woubits & Woubits Left Hand - always felt the climbing on the Far East Buttress had a unique feel about it - especially when the mist comes in
Post edited at 21:34
1
In reply to Goucho:
First visit; winter 85 or 86, heading down from Snowdonia to Ryhd Ddu. Impressed by the hulking Black Cliff. Scrambled up Eastern Terrace and ran down the path in the dusk.
Second visit; summer. Sun in Llanberis but the rain lashed down when we reached Half Way House so we carried on over the hill and slithered up Main Wall instead.
Third time lucky; Decided to take a break from being washed out of Scotland every Whitsun and went to Snowdonia instead. Had a great week mopping up all the classics like Mur y Nwl, Diagonal and Lots Groove then off to the Big One. Not to sure where to start, we did the easy classics. Great Slab was loose and slippery with the Bow traverse having a few feet of good, exposed climbing toward the top. Curving Crack was not what we expected: a green, greasy scrabble up an open chimney. The evening rush hour was on by then; I remember watching Emma Alsford setting off up the Boldest and noticing that the rock on the open faces looked miles better than the shiny cack that we had been on all day.
Would love to go back for Troach or White Slab or Shrike, if I had better arms.
But haven't yet
First visit; winter 85 or 86, heading down from Snowdonia to Ryhd Ddu. Impressed by the hulking Black Cliff. Scrambled up Eastern Terrace and ran down the path in the dusk.
Second visit; summer. Sun in Llanberis but the rain lashed down when we reached Half Way House so we carried on over the hill and slithered up Main Wall instead.
Third time lucky; Decided to take a break from being washed out of Scotland every Whitsun and went to Snowdonia instead. Had a great week mopping up all the classics like Mur y Nwl, Diagonal and Lots Groove then off to the Big One. Not to sure where to start, we did the easy classics. Great Slab was loose and slippery with the Bow traverse having a few feet of good, exposed climbing toward the top. Curving Crack was not what we expected: a green, greasy scrabble up an open chimney. The evening rush hour was on by then; I remember watching Emma Alsford setting off up the Boldest and noticing that the rock on the open faces looked miles better than the shiny cack that we had been on all day.
Would love to go back for Troach or White Slab or Shrike, if I had better arms.
But haven't yet
1
In reply to Goucho:
Here's the pondlifers reminiscence of Cloggy. Seconding Great Slab, first time on Cloggy, I got to lead the easy final pitch and stopped to take in the view, thinking 'Bloody Hell, I'm leading a pitch on Cloggy.' and feeling how easy it would be to do a huge swan dive down into the Lake below.
Seconding Longlands, a slimy thrutch that day, I heard other climbers round the corner in full sunshine. I called round to them, saying 'I hope your route's nice and dry. 'Yes it is thanks' he shouted back. It seemed so funny to be chatting to complete strangers in such close proximity on such a huge crag.
Only two routes on my list but I won't forget the thrill of being on the big cliff and I won't forget the rockfall sent down by climbers descending the western terrace while we geared up for Great Slab either.
Here's the pondlifers reminiscence of Cloggy. Seconding Great Slab, first time on Cloggy, I got to lead the easy final pitch and stopped to take in the view, thinking 'Bloody Hell, I'm leading a pitch on Cloggy.' and feeling how easy it would be to do a huge swan dive down into the Lake below.
Seconding Longlands, a slimy thrutch that day, I heard other climbers round the corner in full sunshine. I called round to them, saying 'I hope your route's nice and dry. 'Yes it is thanks' he shouted back. It seemed so funny to be chatting to complete strangers in such close proximity on such a huge crag.
Only two routes on my list but I won't forget the thrill of being on the big cliff and I won't forget the rockfall sent down by climbers descending the western terrace while we geared up for Great Slab either.
1
In reply to Goucho:
Second visit, having dome White Slab 15 years earlier.
In one of my previous lives I worked as a BMC Officer and, with Ian Parnell, we were running and supporting a new initiative - a Youth meet where the teenage climbers would climb, scramble and walk all over Snowdonia getting a taste for a full range of steep stuff. We took the train up, because we had camping gear for the whole group to spend the night by the lake, and because someone else was paying We hoped it would be dry enough for a play on Cloggy in the evening but when we got there all we could see was swirling cloud where the cliff used to be. Never mind. After an early dinner we spotted fleeting glimpses of unmistakable steep rock through gaps in the shifting curtains, surprisingly offering hope of something dry. This was our chance, so we stealthily slipped out of camp and soon disappeared into the blanket of greyness.
We had no guidebook. Ian had his eye on Vember, so went off to investigate (getting thoroughly spooked on the wet crux he confessed later), while I just headed for the nearest bit of clean-looking dry rock I could find and started climbing.
The crag to ourselves, I was in heaven. From time to time I spotted Ian way over to the right but other than that I was magnificently alone. The rock was mostly dry and warm, small but good edges allowing unfettered movement joy in connecting cracks and grooves to puzzle a way through the verticality, passing small ledges I presumed would be belays on whatever route or routes I was on. With relatively few options available I was pleased when the ones I chose turned out to be ok, and sat on the top with a contented glow for a few moments, soaking the moment and catching glimpses of lake and tents through the unfolding sheets far below, before finding an equally fine descent down slightly easier rock nearby, wishing the moment not to end.
I've had a great many fine moments while soloing over the years but this one stands out as one of the more memorable ones, largely I think because there was no planning, no ambition (other that simply to climb) and no knowledge whatsoever of where I was or what I would find above. Truly letting the mind and the body roam unrestrained in the vertical plane. Curious, I checked the guidebook the next day, traced the line and found out I had climbed a combination of pitches linking a direct line up the Serth/Leech area. But, fittingly for such a gloriously ephemeral experience, when I next found myself at Cloggy I could hardly remember a thing.
Second visit, having dome White Slab 15 years earlier.
In one of my previous lives I worked as a BMC Officer and, with Ian Parnell, we were running and supporting a new initiative - a Youth meet where the teenage climbers would climb, scramble and walk all over Snowdonia getting a taste for a full range of steep stuff. We took the train up, because we had camping gear for the whole group to spend the night by the lake, and because someone else was paying We hoped it would be dry enough for a play on Cloggy in the evening but when we got there all we could see was swirling cloud where the cliff used to be. Never mind. After an early dinner we spotted fleeting glimpses of unmistakable steep rock through gaps in the shifting curtains, surprisingly offering hope of something dry. This was our chance, so we stealthily slipped out of camp and soon disappeared into the blanket of greyness.
We had no guidebook. Ian had his eye on Vember, so went off to investigate (getting thoroughly spooked on the wet crux he confessed later), while I just headed for the nearest bit of clean-looking dry rock I could find and started climbing.
The crag to ourselves, I was in heaven. From time to time I spotted Ian way over to the right but other than that I was magnificently alone. The rock was mostly dry and warm, small but good edges allowing unfettered movement joy in connecting cracks and grooves to puzzle a way through the verticality, passing small ledges I presumed would be belays on whatever route or routes I was on. With relatively few options available I was pleased when the ones I chose turned out to be ok, and sat on the top with a contented glow for a few moments, soaking the moment and catching glimpses of lake and tents through the unfolding sheets far below, before finding an equally fine descent down slightly easier rock nearby, wishing the moment not to end.
I've had a great many fine moments while soloing over the years but this one stands out as one of the more memorable ones, largely I think because there was no planning, no ambition (other that simply to climb) and no knowledge whatsoever of where I was or what I would find above. Truly letting the mind and the body roam unrestrained in the vertical plane. Curious, I checked the guidebook the next day, traced the line and found out I had climbed a combination of pitches linking a direct line up the Serth/Leech area. But, fittingly for such a gloriously ephemeral experience, when I next found myself at Cloggy I could hardly remember a thing.
5
In reply to Goucho:
1974 as a schoolboy. Hitched to Llanberis - an epic in itself a the first wagon stopped at Newport Pagnell happened to be going to Llanberis, via all manner of deliveries so I ended up helping all day. The wagon caught fire in Chester town centre - a fag thrown from a bus set the tarp alight. We only noticed when we overheard an old lady on the pavement talking to her friend - 'is that lorry meant to be burning...?'. Arrived late and mate nowhere to be found, so spent midge hell sleeping rough by the lake. Our plan was simple - camp at the lake so we can beat the crowds to the routes - so we walked up with a pretty heavy tent and provisions for four days.
Once established, the plan seemed to work and we worked through classics - things like Sheaf, Clog Corner, Pedestal Direct, Longlands and so on, having a fantastic time enjoying the atmosphere and scale of the place in idyllic conditions. The flaw was that we couldn't resist the pull of the pub, so walked back down every night after our meal for a beer in the Padarn. Flogging back up every night in the dark led to increasingly late starts and a less and less energetic approach to the climbing, more so for Malcolm who packed in leading completely, but I still remember the laughs we had as clearly as if it were yesterday.
1974 as a schoolboy. Hitched to Llanberis - an epic in itself a the first wagon stopped at Newport Pagnell happened to be going to Llanberis, via all manner of deliveries so I ended up helping all day. The wagon caught fire in Chester town centre - a fag thrown from a bus set the tarp alight. We only noticed when we overheard an old lady on the pavement talking to her friend - 'is that lorry meant to be burning...?'. Arrived late and mate nowhere to be found, so spent midge hell sleeping rough by the lake. Our plan was simple - camp at the lake so we can beat the crowds to the routes - so we walked up with a pretty heavy tent and provisions for four days.
Once established, the plan seemed to work and we worked through classics - things like Sheaf, Clog Corner, Pedestal Direct, Longlands and so on, having a fantastic time enjoying the atmosphere and scale of the place in idyllic conditions. The flaw was that we couldn't resist the pull of the pub, so walked back down every night after our meal for a beer in the Padarn. Flogging back up every night in the dark led to increasingly late starts and a less and less energetic approach to the climbing, more so for Malcolm who packed in leading completely, but I still remember the laughs we had as clearly as if it were yesterday.
5
In reply to john arran:
If you've ever climbed there on a beautiful sunny day John - yes, winning the lotto could be more plausible - did you feel it's just not the same?
Cloggy needs the somber overcast clouds and wreaths of mist for the full atmosphere and experience.
Remember a friend of mine making his first visit on a cloudless warm summers day. There must have been at least a dozen other teams there, and as we uncoiled the ropes at the foot of The Boldest, he said "I don't get it, whats all this fuss and reputation about the place?"
A couple of months later we were back again, only this time it was overcast, grey and silent, with those typical sheets of mist drifting around the cliff. This time as we uncoiled the ropes below Bloody Slab, he said "Now I get it".
If you've ever climbed there on a beautiful sunny day John - yes, winning the lotto could be more plausible - did you feel it's just not the same?
Cloggy needs the somber overcast clouds and wreaths of mist for the full atmosphere and experience.
Remember a friend of mine making his first visit on a cloudless warm summers day. There must have been at least a dozen other teams there, and as we uncoiled the ropes at the foot of The Boldest, he said "I don't get it, whats all this fuss and reputation about the place?"
A couple of months later we were back again, only this time it was overcast, grey and silent, with those typical sheets of mist drifting around the cliff. This time as we uncoiled the ropes below Bloody Slab, he said "Now I get it".
1
In reply to Goucho:
The only time I climbed there on a sunny day was when we got midged out of our slate quarry bivy pits at 4am so headed straight up and finished 3 routes before the herd arrived. ... but I know exactly what you mean.
> If you've ever climbed there on a beautiful sunny day John - yes, winning the lotto could be more plausible - did you feel it's just not the same?
The only time I climbed there on a sunny day was when we got midged out of our slate quarry bivy pits at 4am so headed straight up and finished 3 routes before the herd arrived. ... but I know exactly what you mean.
In reply to Goucho:
Mid-October 1985: the end of a long Indian summer. I had started climbing that year and this was the weekend I led my first VS (Grim Wall at Tremadog). Next day Roger Alton, my climbing mentor, suggested we go to Cloggy. We went for Great Slab, Roger telling me I had to lead it all. The first pitch passed without incident: a thrilling experience under a cloudless sky. Then, for some reason, I failed to figure out the route properly, so found myself on what felt like a thin, poorly protected traverse.
The last move seemed absolutely desperate, and I was convinced that if I fell off, I would die. I could see Roger happily enjoying the view on the distant stance, oblivious to my torment. Of course, I didn't fall off. Later I realised I'd done the Top Traverse, which I think now gets HVS 5a.
The following April was also very dry, and we went back and did Sunset Crack, Octo and The Corner in a day. All of them were equally memorable, as has been every route I've ever done there. It is truly the jewel of Welsh crags.
Mid-October 1985: the end of a long Indian summer. I had started climbing that year and this was the weekend I led my first VS (Grim Wall at Tremadog). Next day Roger Alton, my climbing mentor, suggested we go to Cloggy. We went for Great Slab, Roger telling me I had to lead it all. The first pitch passed without incident: a thrilling experience under a cloudless sky. Then, for some reason, I failed to figure out the route properly, so found myself on what felt like a thin, poorly protected traverse.
The last move seemed absolutely desperate, and I was convinced that if I fell off, I would die. I could see Roger happily enjoying the view on the distant stance, oblivious to my torment. Of course, I didn't fall off. Later I realised I'd done the Top Traverse, which I think now gets HVS 5a.
The following April was also very dry, and we went back and did Sunset Crack, Octo and The Corner in a day. All of them were equally memorable, as has been every route I've ever done there. It is truly the jewel of Welsh crags.
Post edited at 10:33
1
In reply to Ann S:
I still remember my first visit like it was yesterday.
It must have been 1971, and the teacher in charge of a school trip, and an experienced climber took me and an older lad up there. We'd spent the previous day climbing in the Pass.
We did Curving Crack in damp drizzly weather and I can remember exactly what gear we had - Kernmantle ropes, AGV helmet, Troll waist belt with a big Hiatt steel screwgate, thick woolen sweater under an orange Helly Hansen cag, molecord breeches and a pair of old PA's 2 sizes too big borrowed from the teacher, which an extra pair of Hawkins woolen socks sorted out.
It was wet, cold and absolutely wonderful.
Later that night back at the Youth Hostel in Ogwen where we were staying, as we sat round the dining table, the teacher had his head buried in a climbing book smoking his pipe. When I asked if I could have a look when he'd finished, he smiled and handed me the gleaming new copy of The Black Cliff. For the rest of the night, my head was burried in it utterly transfixed.
I still remember my first visit like it was yesterday.
It must have been 1971, and the teacher in charge of a school trip, and an experienced climber took me and an older lad up there. We'd spent the previous day climbing in the Pass.
We did Curving Crack in damp drizzly weather and I can remember exactly what gear we had - Kernmantle ropes, AGV helmet, Troll waist belt with a big Hiatt steel screwgate, thick woolen sweater under an orange Helly Hansen cag, molecord breeches and a pair of old PA's 2 sizes too big borrowed from the teacher, which an extra pair of Hawkins woolen socks sorted out.
It was wet, cold and absolutely wonderful.
Later that night back at the Youth Hostel in Ogwen where we were staying, as we sat round the dining table, the teacher had his head buried in a climbing book smoking his pipe. When I asked if I could have a look when he'd finished, he smiled and handed me the gleaming new copy of The Black Cliff. For the rest of the night, my head was burried in it utterly transfixed.
Post edited at 10:58
In reply to Goucho:
I don't feel like I've had the proper Cloggy experience. The only time I've ever climbed there was during a heatwave a couple of years ago. We walked up late, in the blazing sun, and by the time we got to the crag it was heaving, with a party on every route we wanted to do. Ended up queuing to get on Troach and following another party up it. I almost got completely psyched out as the second of the party in front of us was clearly finding it tough, with repeated comments about long moves, huge reaches and boldness drifting down to the belay. The first move took me the longest - it's a fairly committing reach with less than inspiring gear - but after that it was wonderful, bold and technical wall climbing on positive holds (and plenty of intermediates to mitigate the long reaches!). It was such a good route that after we finished we didn't want to do anything else so we just ended up swimming in the lake
> If you've ever climbed there on a beautiful sunny day John - yes, winning the lotto could be more plausible - did you feel it's just not the same?
> Cloggy needs the somber overcast clouds and wreaths of mist for the full atmosphere and experience.
I don't feel like I've had the proper Cloggy experience. The only time I've ever climbed there was during a heatwave a couple of years ago. We walked up late, in the blazing sun, and by the time we got to the crag it was heaving, with a party on every route we wanted to do. Ended up queuing to get on Troach and following another party up it. I almost got completely psyched out as the second of the party in front of us was clearly finding it tough, with repeated comments about long moves, huge reaches and boldness drifting down to the belay. The first move took me the longest - it's a fairly committing reach with less than inspiring gear - but after that it was wonderful, bold and technical wall climbing on positive holds (and plenty of intermediates to mitigate the long reaches!). It was such a good route that after we finished we didn't want to do anything else so we just ended up swimming in the lake
In reply to Goucho:
Yeah, Woubits - that's another - as you say The Far Far East has a very remote feel. That's what took us back there for Mostest. I thought it easier and more enjoyable than Woubits, but lacked the cache of having been responsible for the (perhaps apocryphal) Whillans quote in The Black Cliff, something like: "Woubits, woubits - what the 'ell's a woubits?" Still a good name though.
Yeah, Woubits - that's another - as you say The Far Far East has a very remote feel. That's what took us back there for Mostest. I thought it easier and more enjoyable than Woubits, but lacked the cache of having been responsible for the (perhaps apocryphal) Whillans quote in The Black Cliff, something like: "Woubits, woubits - what the 'ell's a woubits?" Still a good name though.
In reply to Goucho:
Your reminiscence reminds me of the story told by the chap who taught me to climb, Bill Harrison, who in the 70's worked as an instructor for the Pen y Pass YHA. He said when he got a particularly good novice climbers group, at the end of their week he would take them up Cloggy to do Curving Crack. He only took them if they had really taken to jamming and they all cruised it with great big smiles on their faces.
I well remember him turning to me after I'd done a competant job of leading a Lake District multipitch, (TP I think,) and saying- "now you're ready for Cloggy"!
Gulp!
Your reminiscence reminds me of the story told by the chap who taught me to climb, Bill Harrison, who in the 70's worked as an instructor for the Pen y Pass YHA. He said when he got a particularly good novice climbers group, at the end of their week he would take them up Cloggy to do Curving Crack. He only took them if they had really taken to jamming and they all cruised it with great big smiles on their faces.
I well remember him turning to me after I'd done a competant job of leading a Lake District multipitch, (TP I think,) and saying- "now you're ready for Cloggy"!
Gulp!
In reply to Goucho:
I've had many memorable days up on Cloggy but the one that stands out most is one from last summer.
I headed up with a good friend who now lives in Chamonix, for her first visit to the crag. Having not done Shrike and heard about its quality, I suggest we do this. Having not climbed trad for a while she cruised through the top pitch - what an outstanding bit of climbing and what a position!
Since doing Great Wall the year before I'd had my eye on the Axe and this seemed like the perfect day though having heard tales of it being a hard E4 with gear behind creaky flakes I was pretty intimidated. We abbed in and the intimidation was turned up a notch or two. I almost sacked it off but Heather spurred me on saying it looked amazing and that she'd do it if I didn't.
I set off and after a committing move over the roof the mind games began; booming flakes, with gear behind technical sustained climbing and with unbelievable exposure kept me trying hard all the way to the hands off rest below the final tricky section. Felt pretty spent here and was worried I'd mess it up right at the end.
After a good rest I began the final hard section, moving out into the position immortalised by Alex messenger's photo of Nico on the front cover of NWR I knew it was in the bag and took a moment to enjoy the position, looked down and then made the move to the jug and the easy top section of the route.
Belaying Heather up in the sun was just brilliant and made better when she topped out saying "glad you lead that as I don't think I would have!" (I'm sure she would have cruised it)
In my opinion one of the best E4s I've ever done.
I've had many memorable days up on Cloggy but the one that stands out most is one from last summer.
I headed up with a good friend who now lives in Chamonix, for her first visit to the crag. Having not done Shrike and heard about its quality, I suggest we do this. Having not climbed trad for a while she cruised through the top pitch - what an outstanding bit of climbing and what a position!
Since doing Great Wall the year before I'd had my eye on the Axe and this seemed like the perfect day though having heard tales of it being a hard E4 with gear behind creaky flakes I was pretty intimidated. We abbed in and the intimidation was turned up a notch or two. I almost sacked it off but Heather spurred me on saying it looked amazing and that she'd do it if I didn't.
I set off and after a committing move over the roof the mind games began; booming flakes, with gear behind technical sustained climbing and with unbelievable exposure kept me trying hard all the way to the hands off rest below the final tricky section. Felt pretty spent here and was worried I'd mess it up right at the end.
After a good rest I began the final hard section, moving out into the position immortalised by Alex messenger's photo of Nico on the front cover of NWR I knew it was in the bag and took a moment to enjoy the position, looked down and then made the move to the jug and the easy top section of the route.
Belaying Heather up in the sun was just brilliant and made better when she topped out saying "glad you lead that as I don't think I would have!" (I'm sure she would have cruised it)
In my opinion one of the best E4s I've ever done.
In reply to Goucho:
This made an enjoyable read with a few mentions of Cloggy.
http://www.needlesports.com/needlesports/hardrock/walker2.htm
This made an enjoyable read with a few mentions of Cloggy.
http://www.needlesports.com/needlesports/hardrock/walker2.htm
In reply to Goucho:
I have many fantastic memories of cloggy, used to live in north wales so climbed there quite a bit.
We used to bivvy up there summer weekends, walk up after work on Friday so you're insitu for an early start (kept us out of the pub too). We used to do a couple of routes in the early morning, drop down to the lake for a long lunch and snooze in the sun whilst everyone else was kicking rocks off and then return for a route or 2 when everyone else was packing up, great days indeed.
Highlights were doing Shrike naked at 6am on a lovely warm morning with not a cloud in the sky, belaying on the top with my rucksack and clothes just out of reach, desperately trying to hide my modesty as a couple of elderly ladies came over to investigate having walked up the ranger path. They were even more shocked as my partner came over the top, also naked and shook their hands.
Doing Great Bow combo on a glorious evening in July, chasing the last of the sun up the last 2 pitches. Coming down to bivvy by the lake with a wee dram and a smoke was truly magical. Before the days of internet forecasts we never thought it would rain so we were just in sleeping bags and thin layers. There was an almighty storm at 3am and we got utterly soaked. Walking down to Llanberis about 4am I have never been so cold, we got home and lit a coal fire to warm up and dry out. My wife came downstairs at 7am asking why on earth we had the fire going mid summer?
Misty atmospheric days were also frequent, one of the most memorable was in April, doing battle with the rickerty innards as the mist swirled around the east buttress, my respect for Menlove Edwards growing exponentially as the day went on.
There were scary moment too, trying Taurus and not willing to commit, downclimbing and finishing up Spillikin, with Whillans voice in my ear telling me what a softarse I was. Following the wrong line on Aires and also having to reverse with a potentially fatal swing down the final judgement wall awaiting any marginal mistake.
I've got to 48 routes so far so I guess I will have to go back to complete the 50, it just gets harder to decide which routes to do. Surprises await, the best being Easy Rider which must be one of the best no star routes I've done.
Been to Bram Crag Quarry a lot recently a new sports venue in the Lakes, and I can't remember a thing about the routes, speaks volumes really.
I have many fantastic memories of cloggy, used to live in north wales so climbed there quite a bit.
We used to bivvy up there summer weekends, walk up after work on Friday so you're insitu for an early start (kept us out of the pub too). We used to do a couple of routes in the early morning, drop down to the lake for a long lunch and snooze in the sun whilst everyone else was kicking rocks off and then return for a route or 2 when everyone else was packing up, great days indeed.
Highlights were doing Shrike naked at 6am on a lovely warm morning with not a cloud in the sky, belaying on the top with my rucksack and clothes just out of reach, desperately trying to hide my modesty as a couple of elderly ladies came over to investigate having walked up the ranger path. They were even more shocked as my partner came over the top, also naked and shook their hands.
Doing Great Bow combo on a glorious evening in July, chasing the last of the sun up the last 2 pitches. Coming down to bivvy by the lake with a wee dram and a smoke was truly magical. Before the days of internet forecasts we never thought it would rain so we were just in sleeping bags and thin layers. There was an almighty storm at 3am and we got utterly soaked. Walking down to Llanberis about 4am I have never been so cold, we got home and lit a coal fire to warm up and dry out. My wife came downstairs at 7am asking why on earth we had the fire going mid summer?
Misty atmospheric days were also frequent, one of the most memorable was in April, doing battle with the rickerty innards as the mist swirled around the east buttress, my respect for Menlove Edwards growing exponentially as the day went on.
There were scary moment too, trying Taurus and not willing to commit, downclimbing and finishing up Spillikin, with Whillans voice in my ear telling me what a softarse I was. Following the wrong line on Aires and also having to reverse with a potentially fatal swing down the final judgement wall awaiting any marginal mistake.
I've got to 48 routes so far so I guess I will have to go back to complete the 50, it just gets harder to decide which routes to do. Surprises await, the best being Easy Rider which must be one of the best no star routes I've done.
Been to Bram Crag Quarry a lot recently a new sports venue in the Lakes, and I can't remember a thing about the routes, speaks volumes really.
1
In reply to Goucho:
Like everyone else I think I have fleeting memories of them all, despite many being over 40 years ago. Soaking up the Black Cliff aura for the first time on Curving Crack in 1971 aged 16, Shrike in the sun, lassoing on White Slab in the mist, looking down from the top of the big pitch on Vember as Al Rouse grappled with an early ascent of Curving Arete. That postscript in The Black Cliff always summed it up perfectly for me. Great days.
Like everyone else I think I have fleeting memories of them all, despite many being over 40 years ago. Soaking up the Black Cliff aura for the first time on Curving Crack in 1971 aged 16, Shrike in the sun, lassoing on White Slab in the mist, looking down from the top of the big pitch on Vember as Al Rouse grappled with an early ascent of Curving Arete. That postscript in The Black Cliff always summed it up perfectly for me. Great days.
In reply to Ann S:
What a wonderful essay. Thank you. Derek was a lovely person.
'For me, it was still an awesome struggle, full of memories and nostalgia, but now safe and secure, courtesy of the modern gear. It was a far cry, though, from Don’s lonely lead in 1962.'
Mick
P.S. My Cloggy memories are bittersweet. I sat in the same wet grass as Goucho at the top of Great Wall, wondering if my belayer had wanted me to fail (and take the long - anything from 60 feet to reportedly 120 feet the previous day - wild ride into space).
What a wonderful essay. Thank you. Derek was a lovely person.
'For me, it was still an awesome struggle, full of memories and nostalgia, but now safe and secure, courtesy of the modern gear. It was a far cry, though, from Don’s lonely lead in 1962.'
Mick
P.S. My Cloggy memories are bittersweet. I sat in the same wet grass as Goucho at the top of Great Wall, wondering if my belayer had wanted me to fail (and take the long - anything from 60 feet to reportedly 120 feet the previous day - wild ride into space).
In reply to Goucho:
Two visits, first went last summer. Never been to a cliff with such an aura, such a presence and I was totally hooked almost from first sight.
The plan had been hatched in the pub, like they often are. Myself and my climbing partner settled on Great Wall as a great option for our first on the cliff. We got ludicrously psyched, it seemed to fit out strengths perfectly- Jack was tall and great at bridging, so P1 for him, and I was happy above iffy gear so wanted the second pitch. As psych built we planned a massive linkup, planning to do Great Wall first, then Jack would lead Pinnacle Arete, then I'd ab into the Axe. The day we went we didn't see the cliff until we were almost there cause of the mist, and we racked up in almost perfect silence. Jack set off on the first pitch having never even climbed E3 before and only a few E2's, but absolutely cruised it- the lead of his life so far for sure! I arrived at the belay with the pressure on- Jack had done his job, my turn now. It went ok to start with, before my phone rang in my pocket and 5 second later I dropped my RP's to the bottom of the crag. Pressing on, I stretched right to the ledge, hit a wet patch, started slipping, went again with teeth gritted and somehow clung on, swinging across before pulling up onto the ledge. Clipping the peg was torturous, and the rope drag horrendous (only just enough rope on 50's), but sitting in the long grass at the top is the most satisfied I've ever been after a route. Jack arrived and promptly declared there was no chance of him doing Pinnacle Arete so we scrambled out and basked in the sun. I decided I fancied the Axe, but closer inspection revealed no gear and no holds that I was capable of using, so we scrambled out on the other side of the gully- super sketchy! So only one third of the grand plan done, but a fantastic day, the cold Coke on the walk down the best I've ever tasted.
After that I promised myself I'd go back every year I was in the UK, but I thought my chance had gone this year as the weather seemed to have turned while me and my girlfriend were on a trip to Wales. A chance look up at the crag in the evening light driving back into Llanberis from Holyhead changed our minds, and we decided to head up the next day and get on whatever was dry. Very little was truly dry, but Great/Bow combo was dry enough, which Ellie dispatched with only a few scary moments, on the wet P1 and the pully P3. I led the easy pitches, which although easy, were pretty bloody bold! Despite being freezing cold it was an amazing adventure and as per usual it was sunny at the top. Next was Shrike, which I led in one pitch. What a stunning route, one of the best E2' in the UK, it felt like an easier Right Wall (which I'd failed on earlier in the trip). A truly brilliant route that defied my attempts to articulate how good it was. An effort on Troach followed, aborted due to tiredness and the encroaching dark- a wise decision as we walked down most of the way in pitch darkness before devouring chips from the Indian takeaway in Llanberis. No second visit syndrome at this cliff- it is as good as the hype and then some- go to it! I can't wait to go back again.
Two visits, first went last summer. Never been to a cliff with such an aura, such a presence and I was totally hooked almost from first sight.
The plan had been hatched in the pub, like they often are. Myself and my climbing partner settled on Great Wall as a great option for our first on the cliff. We got ludicrously psyched, it seemed to fit out strengths perfectly- Jack was tall and great at bridging, so P1 for him, and I was happy above iffy gear so wanted the second pitch. As psych built we planned a massive linkup, planning to do Great Wall first, then Jack would lead Pinnacle Arete, then I'd ab into the Axe. The day we went we didn't see the cliff until we were almost there cause of the mist, and we racked up in almost perfect silence. Jack set off on the first pitch having never even climbed E3 before and only a few E2's, but absolutely cruised it- the lead of his life so far for sure! I arrived at the belay with the pressure on- Jack had done his job, my turn now. It went ok to start with, before my phone rang in my pocket and 5 second later I dropped my RP's to the bottom of the crag. Pressing on, I stretched right to the ledge, hit a wet patch, started slipping, went again with teeth gritted and somehow clung on, swinging across before pulling up onto the ledge. Clipping the peg was torturous, and the rope drag horrendous (only just enough rope on 50's), but sitting in the long grass at the top is the most satisfied I've ever been after a route. Jack arrived and promptly declared there was no chance of him doing Pinnacle Arete so we scrambled out and basked in the sun. I decided I fancied the Axe, but closer inspection revealed no gear and no holds that I was capable of using, so we scrambled out on the other side of the gully- super sketchy! So only one third of the grand plan done, but a fantastic day, the cold Coke on the walk down the best I've ever tasted.
After that I promised myself I'd go back every year I was in the UK, but I thought my chance had gone this year as the weather seemed to have turned while me and my girlfriend were on a trip to Wales. A chance look up at the crag in the evening light driving back into Llanberis from Holyhead changed our minds, and we decided to head up the next day and get on whatever was dry. Very little was truly dry, but Great/Bow combo was dry enough, which Ellie dispatched with only a few scary moments, on the wet P1 and the pully P3. I led the easy pitches, which although easy, were pretty bloody bold! Despite being freezing cold it was an amazing adventure and as per usual it was sunny at the top. Next was Shrike, which I led in one pitch. What a stunning route, one of the best E2' in the UK, it felt like an easier Right Wall (which I'd failed on earlier in the trip). A truly brilliant route that defied my attempts to articulate how good it was. An effort on Troach followed, aborted due to tiredness and the encroaching dark- a wise decision as we walked down most of the way in pitch darkness before devouring chips from the Indian takeaway in Llanberis. No second visit syndrome at this cliff- it is as good as the hype and then some- go to it! I can't wait to go back again.
In reply to spidermonkey09:
Great Wall, Pinnacle Arete (care needed to reach it) and The Hand Traverse give a very satisfying combination.
Mick
Great Wall, Pinnacle Arete (care needed to reach it) and The Hand Traverse give a very satisfying combination.
Mick
1
In reply to Mick Ward:
Pinnacle Arete and The Hand Traverse is a classic Cloggy outing, but Great Wall should always be savoured on its own Mick
> Great Wall, Pinnacle Arete (care needed to reach it) and The Hand Traverse give a very satisfying combination.
> Mick
Pinnacle Arete and The Hand Traverse is a classic Cloggy outing, but Great Wall should always be savoured on its own Mick
1
In reply to Goucho:
Trust me to get it wrong!
'Arrow climber, Crew. Wall without end.' Was there ever a more haunting eulogy?
Mick
Trust me to get it wrong!
'Arrow climber, Crew. Wall without end.' Was there ever a more haunting eulogy?
Mick
1
In reply to Goucho:
Great thread-let's have a regular Friday night reminiscence thread.
Any suggestions for next Fridays ?
Great thread-let's have a regular Friday night reminiscence thread.
Any suggestions for next Fridays ?
In reply to Goucho:
Last time I did it there was an ab station exactly 50m off the deck.
Never had a bad day on Cloggy, perhaps the excitement of going to the special cliff makes you try your hardest ( carefully ).
Who said that Cloggy was a place to practice your skills not develop them ?
> Pinnacle Arete and The Hand Traverse is a classic Cloggy outing, but Great Wall should always be savoured on its own Mick
Last time I did it there was an ab station exactly 50m off the deck.
Never had a bad day on Cloggy, perhaps the excitement of going to the special cliff makes you try your hardest ( carefully ).
Who said that Cloggy was a place to practice your skills not develop them ?
In reply to Mick Ward:
Must be a good story behind that!!
> P.S. My Cloggy memories are bittersweet. I sat in the same wet grass as Goucho at the top of Great Wall, wondering if my belayer had wanted me to fail (and take the long - anything from 60 feet to reportedly 120 feet the previous day - wild ride into space).
Must be a good story behind that!!
In reply to Goucho:
Here's my favourite Cloggy routes:-
Woubits Left Hand, Shrike, Octo, Pinnacle Arete & Hand Traverse, Daurigol, Great Wall, Midsummer Nights Dream, Jelly Roll, November, Curving Arete, Medi, Purr Spire, The Boldest + Direct Finish, Silhouette, White Slab, West Buttress Eliminate, Bloody Slab...
...and yes, I need to get round to doing the glaring omision of The Axe whilst I still might be able too?
Here's my favourite Cloggy routes:-
Woubits Left Hand, Shrike, Octo, Pinnacle Arete & Hand Traverse, Daurigol, Great Wall, Midsummer Nights Dream, Jelly Roll, November, Curving Arete, Medi, Purr Spire, The Boldest + Direct Finish, Silhouette, White Slab, West Buttress Eliminate, Bloody Slab...
...and yes, I need to get round to doing the glaring omision of The Axe whilst I still might be able too?
In reply to GridNorth:
Al, I'm sure you could do it. It was my first trad route in almost two years. As with many Welsh classics, it's more about steadiness and placing good gear (rather than my rubbish).
I know you've done loads at Avon but I'm sure if you went back and just immersed yourself in E2/E3 stuff and felt really, really good and then went up to North Wales and got used to the feel of things and then got on it...
What I find really spooky is the story of Pete Whillance going up to the bottom of Indian Face (before it was climbed) six times and walking away each time.
Mick
P.S. Trivia alert! When we were doing Peak Rock, Johnny Dawes came over to Phil Kelly's one night for an interview. He was absently doodling on a pad, with a phone number written on it. The phone number belonged to Ray Evans, who initiated the first serious attempt on Indian Face in (gulp!) 1967. When Phil noticed, the next day, and told Mr Dawes, apparently he was chuffed to bits. (Yup, all of reality is one massive hold... unfortunately it's a huge sloper - just like the one on Great Wall - only joking!)
Al, I'm sure you could do it. It was my first trad route in almost two years. As with many Welsh classics, it's more about steadiness and placing good gear (rather than my rubbish).
I know you've done loads at Avon but I'm sure if you went back and just immersed yourself in E2/E3 stuff and felt really, really good and then went up to North Wales and got used to the feel of things and then got on it...
What I find really spooky is the story of Pete Whillance going up to the bottom of Indian Face (before it was climbed) six times and walking away each time.
Mick
P.S. Trivia alert! When we were doing Peak Rock, Johnny Dawes came over to Phil Kelly's one night for an interview. He was absently doodling on a pad, with a phone number written on it. The phone number belonged to Ray Evans, who initiated the first serious attempt on Indian Face in (gulp!) 1967. When Phil noticed, the next day, and told Mr Dawes, apparently he was chuffed to bits. (Yup, all of reality is one massive hold... unfortunately it's a huge sloper - just like the one on Great Wall - only joking!)
1
In reply to Mick Ward:
In 1973 or 75 ? I watched somebody start up Indian face only to get sucked into traversing left about 10 metres up the crag.
He belayed 10m up Great wall.
Fortunately for his second, his only runner fell out and he soloed back to the deck.
All over in a few minutes, never found out who the climber was.
In 1973 or 75 ? I watched somebody start up Indian face only to get sucked into traversing left about 10 metres up the crag.
He belayed 10m up Great wall.
Fortunately for his second, his only runner fell out and he soloed back to the deck.
All over in a few minutes, never found out who the climber was.
In reply to Mick Ward:
Pretty sure you've got that quote wrong as well, Mick! I reckon Goucho had it right in his first post.
When I was at school, before I ever even went climbing, they had a copy of Hard Rock in the school library. I used to spend hours reading it. I knew every essay more or less by heart, but Drummond's on GW was the one, of course, as for so many. JP's drug-propped escapade on CS gets funnier with age; at 14 I didn't really get it.
Great thread - every single visit has been special for me; camping up there for a week in boiling heat in the summer of 83 when I'd just begun climbing, barely able to walk up for the weight of the tinned food we had, watching Dave Lee do Midsummers and Jerry do Masters Wall and solo GW and Curving Arete and doing the HR classics ourselves, struggling up Diglyph, Woubits and the Mostest, all wet in spots, November, Troach, Boldest and Great Wall over a weekend with a Romanian friend (surely FRAs), Midsummers seconded by someone whose hardest previous lead was E1, getting rained on so hard we couldn't even do that Severe on the Far West, and then the historical ones, Longlands (with an Italian sport climber), Pigotts, Curving, Chimney, that one with the desperate wide crack (Sunset, is it?).
I haven't been for nearly four years. I really need to get my finger out.
(Easy Rider btw; I've heard someone else say the same thing.)
jcm
Pretty sure you've got that quote wrong as well, Mick! I reckon Goucho had it right in his first post.
When I was at school, before I ever even went climbing, they had a copy of Hard Rock in the school library. I used to spend hours reading it. I knew every essay more or less by heart, but Drummond's on GW was the one, of course, as for so many. JP's drug-propped escapade on CS gets funnier with age; at 14 I didn't really get it.
Great thread - every single visit has been special for me; camping up there for a week in boiling heat in the summer of 83 when I'd just begun climbing, barely able to walk up for the weight of the tinned food we had, watching Dave Lee do Midsummers and Jerry do Masters Wall and solo GW and Curving Arete and doing the HR classics ourselves, struggling up Diglyph, Woubits and the Mostest, all wet in spots, November, Troach, Boldest and Great Wall over a weekend with a Romanian friend (surely FRAs), Midsummers seconded by someone whose hardest previous lead was E1, getting rained on so hard we couldn't even do that Severe on the Far West, and then the historical ones, Longlands (with an Italian sport climber), Pigotts, Curving, Chimney, that one with the desperate wide crack (Sunset, is it?).
I haven't been for nearly four years. I really need to get my finger out.
(Easy Rider btw; I've heard someone else say the same thing.)
jcm
In reply to Mick Ward:
Ray Evans was seriously talented. Didn't he used to solo routes in the early 70's which now get E3, in old RAF bendy boots?
Ray Evans was seriously talented. Didn't he used to solo routes in the early 70's which now get E3, in old RAF bendy boots?
In reply to Rick Graham:
According to Phil (if I remember correctly) 1967. He may (or may not) have been with Hank Pasquil.
Gosh, heading up there in 73 or 75 (didn't John Allen free Great Wall with Chris the Nose in 75?) was still mega-futuristic. And soloing back down the first pitch of Great Wall - that's impressive. I wonder who it was... must be a (very) small pool of contenders.
Bill Turner reckons that the late Iain Edwards and he did the FFA of Great Wall before John Allen and Chris. I can imagine Iain just bloody well going for it. He wasn't short of bottle, that's for sure.
Mick
According to Phil (if I remember correctly) 1967. He may (or may not) have been with Hank Pasquil.
Gosh, heading up there in 73 or 75 (didn't John Allen free Great Wall with Chris the Nose in 75?) was still mega-futuristic. And soloing back down the first pitch of Great Wall - that's impressive. I wonder who it was... must be a (very) small pool of contenders.
Bill Turner reckons that the late Iain Edwards and he did the FFA of Great Wall before John Allen and Chris. I can imagine Iain just bloody well going for it. He wasn't short of bottle, that's for sure.
Mick
In reply to johncoxmysteriously:
< Hangs head in shame. > I think I've got a Spooneresque tendency to rework quotes in my mind, again and again until they bear little resemblance to the originals (but, sadly, I fail to notice).
Well, you won't get it in Hard Rock!
Mick (tempting fate yet again)
> Pretty sure you've got that quote wrong as well, Mick! I reckon Goucho had it right in his first post.
< Hangs head in shame. > I think I've got a Spooneresque tendency to rework quotes in my mind, again and again until they bear little resemblance to the originals (but, sadly, I fail to notice).
> JP's drug-propped escapade on CS gets funnier with age; at 14 I didn't really get it.
Well, you won't get it in Hard Rock!
Mick (tempting fate yet again)
In reply to Goucho:
That was the tale. Ray Evans has always intrigued me. One of the darkest of dark horses. I remember Jim Erickson saying he'd done Epitaph with him (very early 70s?) and Ray Evans had just run it out... and out... and out. Boldness incarnate.
Mick
> Ray Evans was seriously talented. Didn't he used to solo routes in the early 70's which now get E3, in old RAF bendy boots?
That was the tale. Ray Evans has always intrigued me. One of the darkest of dark horses. I remember Jim Erickson saying he'd done Epitaph with him (very early 70s?) and Ray Evans had just run it out... and out... and out. Boldness incarnate.
Mick
In reply to Mick Ward:
***k, you're right. 'It is fortunate that perfection is no measure of a rock climb'....'a flawed masterpiece'. Funny, I could have sworn it was 'a big raw wall, a flawed masterpiece'. I haven't looked at HR for ages. Funny how it all comes flooding back.
Hank Pasquill definitely had a try at Indian Face long ago. I read an interview with him once about it; he had a long piton made out of a poker or something which he was hoping might come in handy. Good thing he didn't get very high. I can't remember whether this was with RE or independently; they did climb together of course.
Another thing I once read about Cloggy was a rather good account of an ascent of Slanting Slab in a CUMC journal a long time ago. 'So we sweated up the track like everyone else, I suppose, and sat and drank our lemonade in Halfway House...' (or something like that). Anyone remember that? It's probably in a trunk in my parents' house; I took advantage of my position as OUMC librarian to liberate it a long time ago. I really should return it. Along with an excellent account by someone called Ian Raistrick (perhaps?) of falling off Vember.
jcm
***k, you're right. 'It is fortunate that perfection is no measure of a rock climb'....'a flawed masterpiece'. Funny, I could have sworn it was 'a big raw wall, a flawed masterpiece'. I haven't looked at HR for ages. Funny how it all comes flooding back.
Hank Pasquill definitely had a try at Indian Face long ago. I read an interview with him once about it; he had a long piton made out of a poker or something which he was hoping might come in handy. Good thing he didn't get very high. I can't remember whether this was with RE or independently; they did climb together of course.
Another thing I once read about Cloggy was a rather good account of an ascent of Slanting Slab in a CUMC journal a long time ago. 'So we sweated up the track like everyone else, I suppose, and sat and drank our lemonade in Halfway House...' (or something like that). Anyone remember that? It's probably in a trunk in my parents' house; I took advantage of my position as OUMC librarian to liberate it a long time ago. I really should return it. Along with an excellent account by someone called Ian Raistrick (perhaps?) of falling off Vember.
jcm
In reply to Mick Ward:
>(and take the long - anything from 60 feet to reportedly 120 feet the previous day - wild ride into space).
In 1983 I saw someone fall from the last hard move ('if successful the main difficulties are over. If not, the main difficulties are just beginning.') back down to somewhere around the belay. He started a volley of curses audible in Llanberis on the basic theme of how 'I had it', and my partner (we were gearing up between routes) yelled back up so that the entire cliff could hear, 'It's no use saying that, sir, you plainly didn't.'. Fortunately we never met the climber. I wonder if he posts on here?! Perhaps it was your belayer?!?
jcm
>(and take the long - anything from 60 feet to reportedly 120 feet the previous day - wild ride into space).
In 1983 I saw someone fall from the last hard move ('if successful the main difficulties are over. If not, the main difficulties are just beginning.') back down to somewhere around the belay. He started a volley of curses audible in Llanberis on the basic theme of how 'I had it', and my partner (we were gearing up between routes) yelled back up so that the entire cliff could hear, 'It's no use saying that, sir, you plainly didn't.'. Fortunately we never met the climber. I wonder if he posts on here?! Perhaps it was your belayer?!?
jcm
In reply to Goucho:
First time to Cloggy, I didn't climb anything (I must have been 16 and think I was just starting VSs at the time, perhaps). But I had to go and look after reading an article in Mountain (around no 10?).
I'd hitched out to Llanberis YH. It had rained the previous night. Walked up and was just gobsmacked. What a dark, haunting place. Just me and the ravens and the looming bulk of the Pinnacle East face far above. I poked around looking at the starts of routes and swore I'd be back
I was. Lots.
First time to Cloggy, I didn't climb anything (I must have been 16 and think I was just starting VSs at the time, perhaps). But I had to go and look after reading an article in Mountain (around no 10?).
I'd hitched out to Llanberis YH. It had rained the previous night. Walked up and was just gobsmacked. What a dark, haunting place. Just me and the ravens and the looming bulk of the Pinnacle East face far above. I poked around looking at the starts of routes and swore I'd be back
I was. Lots.
In reply to Goucho:
First time on Cloggy was the most memorable. Great Slab with my brother John in May 1969, with no one else on the cliff. Very moody. Started to rain half way up:
http://www.ukclimbing.com/images/dbpage.php?id=49802
Another memorable one was Chimney Route in about 1970. Somehow very intimidating and oppressive. I was half-way up the 2nd? very narrow (virtually protectionless?) chimney pitch when it felt as if my trousers were being pulled down. I saw to my horror that the clip of my new 'Davek' harness - a bit like a car seatbelt - had caught on the rock and been forced open ... the tape of the waist part of the harness being pulled through with the weight of the rope. I grabbed the last bit of it with my thumb and forefinger just in time, or I would have been left up there with no rope or harness. The final pitch, which Tim led, still had the 'Ricketty Innards' - exciting stuff!
Pigott's too was memorable. Seemed very heavy-weight for VS, and much longer than its '370 feet'. Guy I was climbing with bottled out, so I led the whole thing.
First time on Cloggy was the most memorable. Great Slab with my brother John in May 1969, with no one else on the cliff. Very moody. Started to rain half way up:
http://www.ukclimbing.com/images/dbpage.php?id=49802
Another memorable one was Chimney Route in about 1970. Somehow very intimidating and oppressive. I was half-way up the 2nd? very narrow (virtually protectionless?) chimney pitch when it felt as if my trousers were being pulled down. I saw to my horror that the clip of my new 'Davek' harness - a bit like a car seatbelt - had caught on the rock and been forced open ... the tape of the waist part of the harness being pulled through with the weight of the rope. I grabbed the last bit of it with my thumb and forefinger just in time, or I would have been left up there with no rope or harness. The final pitch, which Tim led, still had the 'Ricketty Innards' - exciting stuff!
Pigott's too was memorable. Seemed very heavy-weight for VS, and much longer than its '370 feet'. Guy I was climbing with bottled out, so I led the whole thing.
In reply to johncoxmysteriously:
I remember going up to Cloggy with Ian Jones to do The Boldest. Geraldine was belayed on GW and Derek Beetlestone was leading the second pitch. A few years ago, we climbed on the Blanca and he told me he'd gone about 60 feet... and then went back up again and finished it. A gallant effort.
As we were starting, someone mentioned that a lad had gone 120 feet the day before and just missed the deck. I didn't particulary want to forensically analyse the figure but it wasn't really what you wanted to hear.
I don't know if you've read Jim Perrin's article 'Hubris' in the first Leeds Uni journal edited by Bernard Newman (1972?) Ostensibly about an ascent of The Boldest, it was the high water mark of climbing writing (and, according to Jim, his first published work - if so, amazing!) It really is exceptional. I'm amazed it's never been anthologised.
The previously best (imho) piece would have been Padraic O'Halpin's 'Ariel', circa 1962 and the very best, Steve Dean's 'Chalk Marks on the Bridge'. In each case, the writing is oceanic. The act of climbing resonates with so much more.
It seems fitting that Cloggy in general and The Boldest in particular gave rise to such an inspired piece of work.
Mick
P.S. In the late 60s, I used to look at that photo of Cloggy in 'The Hard Years' and wonder about the dotted lines of the routes. I could never have imagined the reality of the place.
I remember going up to Cloggy with Ian Jones to do The Boldest. Geraldine was belayed on GW and Derek Beetlestone was leading the second pitch. A few years ago, we climbed on the Blanca and he told me he'd gone about 60 feet... and then went back up again and finished it. A gallant effort.
As we were starting, someone mentioned that a lad had gone 120 feet the day before and just missed the deck. I didn't particulary want to forensically analyse the figure but it wasn't really what you wanted to hear.
I don't know if you've read Jim Perrin's article 'Hubris' in the first Leeds Uni journal edited by Bernard Newman (1972?) Ostensibly about an ascent of The Boldest, it was the high water mark of climbing writing (and, according to Jim, his first published work - if so, amazing!) It really is exceptional. I'm amazed it's never been anthologised.
The previously best (imho) piece would have been Padraic O'Halpin's 'Ariel', circa 1962 and the very best, Steve Dean's 'Chalk Marks on the Bridge'. In each case, the writing is oceanic. The act of climbing resonates with so much more.
It seems fitting that Cloggy in general and The Boldest in particular gave rise to such an inspired piece of work.
Mick
P.S. In the late 60s, I used to look at that photo of Cloggy in 'The Hard Years' and wonder about the dotted lines of the routes. I could never have imagined the reality of the place.
In reply to Mick Ward:
Don't think I've read any of those. My loss - and I thought JP must have anthologised everything he'd ever written by now. Funny, considering the Boldest's reputation for not having anything on it which might cause such a thing, but my main recollection of it is fighting rope drag. That and being annoyed because in the excitement of thrutching my way up against the rope I never noticed the corpse of the bolt, assuming there is actually anything to notice. And actually, come to think of it, the fact that my spaced-out companion, who had just been celebrating his ascent of GW in the herbal style, took me entirely off belay shortly after I began the direct finish, while attempting to sort out some tangle in the rope, and karma caught up with him in the form of a massive downpour just as I finished the pitch.
I met GT there on my first day as well; she was coming down the Eastern Terrace in a rather undignified manner when we overtook her. She'd just done Pinnacle Flake and was talking rather loudly to her partner about how it had been easy but 'I can see if you were an E1 leader if might be quite scary', or some similar observation. Since at the time I thought leading harder than E1 was for supermen, and certainly not something which was likely to be achieved by someone who could only manage the ET on their arse and more slowly than me, for some reason I resented this speech. Which just shows what I knew about anything at the time - not much.
jcm
Don't think I've read any of those. My loss - and I thought JP must have anthologised everything he'd ever written by now. Funny, considering the Boldest's reputation for not having anything on it which might cause such a thing, but my main recollection of it is fighting rope drag. That and being annoyed because in the excitement of thrutching my way up against the rope I never noticed the corpse of the bolt, assuming there is actually anything to notice. And actually, come to think of it, the fact that my spaced-out companion, who had just been celebrating his ascent of GW in the herbal style, took me entirely off belay shortly after I began the direct finish, while attempting to sort out some tangle in the rope, and karma caught up with him in the form of a massive downpour just as I finished the pitch.
I met GT there on my first day as well; she was coming down the Eastern Terrace in a rather undignified manner when we overtook her. She'd just done Pinnacle Flake and was talking rather loudly to her partner about how it had been easy but 'I can see if you were an E1 leader if might be quite scary', or some similar observation. Since at the time I thought leading harder than E1 was for supermen, and certainly not something which was likely to be achieved by someone who could only manage the ET on their arse and more slowly than me, for some reason I resented this speech. Which just shows what I knew about anything at the time - not much.
jcm
Post edited at 23:50
In reply to Goucho:
As everyone seems to agree, every route on Cloggy is a memorable experience, one way or another. Most of my early experiences seem to involve various members of the CUMC falling a rope's length or more for the entertainment of the spectators below (anyone going to admit to abseiling off Sheaf clipped to the wrong end of the rope?)
Anyway, back in the 80s, when I hadn't yet discovered contact lenses and was too vain to climb in glasses, I went up to do White Slab. We'd bivvied under the boulders to make the best of morning sun, and made pretty brisk progress up to the lassoo pitch. Obviously I'd read all about this but I didn't really have any idea what the objective was. I couldn't see anything that looked like a spike and I started rather randomly flinging up loops of rope in the hope that something would somehow stick.
After trying this for what seemed like an eternity but which probably wasn't more than an hour, I noticed that it had clouded over and the previously fine morning was rapidly deteriorating. As was the patience of my second. I seem to remember fiddling in some RPs down by my feet and then just traversed right into a wide crack. This didn't seem too difficult and was a bit baffled as to where I was really going. However, at this point it started to rain and I thought I should probably reverse the traverse while I still could.
Anyway, although I had to sacrifice a nut, the good news is that you can indeed ab off from there and very nearly get to the ground...
Of course, given my eyesight, I should have done Walsh's Groove, where myopia is traditionally thought to be an advantage.
As everyone seems to agree, every route on Cloggy is a memorable experience, one way or another. Most of my early experiences seem to involve various members of the CUMC falling a rope's length or more for the entertainment of the spectators below (anyone going to admit to abseiling off Sheaf clipped to the wrong end of the rope?)
Anyway, back in the 80s, when I hadn't yet discovered contact lenses and was too vain to climb in glasses, I went up to do White Slab. We'd bivvied under the boulders to make the best of morning sun, and made pretty brisk progress up to the lassoo pitch. Obviously I'd read all about this but I didn't really have any idea what the objective was. I couldn't see anything that looked like a spike and I started rather randomly flinging up loops of rope in the hope that something would somehow stick.
After trying this for what seemed like an eternity but which probably wasn't more than an hour, I noticed that it had clouded over and the previously fine morning was rapidly deteriorating. As was the patience of my second. I seem to remember fiddling in some RPs down by my feet and then just traversed right into a wide crack. This didn't seem too difficult and was a bit baffled as to where I was really going. However, at this point it started to rain and I thought I should probably reverse the traverse while I still could.
Anyway, although I had to sacrifice a nut, the good news is that you can indeed ab off from there and very nearly get to the ground...
Of course, given my eyesight, I should have done Walsh's Groove, where myopia is traditionally thought to be an advantage.
Post edited at 07:07
In reply to
Me and Steve Tonks once walked up at midnight and bivvied on top of the Axe. Both led the route at about 5am, without a shirt it was so hot. Steve then soloed Shrike before I led the Boldest. We were then tired and went down to Llanberis to find it was only 1 o'clock, so we went Home
Me and Steve Tonks once walked up at midnight and bivvied on top of the Axe. Both led the route at about 5am, without a shirt it was so hot. Steve then soloed Shrike before I led the Boldest. We were then tired and went down to Llanberis to find it was only 1 o'clock, so we went Home
2
In reply to Goucho:
Around 1970, hitched from Sheffield to Llanberis (about 6 hrs) - a few beers in the Padarn, hiked up to Cloggy around midnight, and awoke to pouring rain so headed home. A year later, the same sketch with the same result only this time I walked up the the streaming crag and actually touched it.
Easter 1972 we had a week climbing in Wales and snuck up on Cloggy by walking in from Nant Peris - had the crag to ourselves and did White Slab - mega.
We were so stunned by the experience we decided to hitch home the next day. Mo Anthoine gave us a ride all the way to Manchester, bought us beer and dropped us off at the train station.
Glory days,
Chris
Around 1970, hitched from Sheffield to Llanberis (about 6 hrs) - a few beers in the Padarn, hiked up to Cloggy around midnight, and awoke to pouring rain so headed home. A year later, the same sketch with the same result only this time I walked up the the streaming crag and actually touched it.
Easter 1972 we had a week climbing in Wales and snuck up on Cloggy by walking in from Nant Peris - had the crag to ourselves and did White Slab - mega.
We were so stunned by the experience we decided to hitch home the next day. Mo Anthoine gave us a ride all the way to Manchester, bought us beer and dropped us off at the train station.
Glory days,
Chris
In reply to Goucho:
Thanks for the post and I am happy to add some of my memories of Cloggy.
I started climbing in 1958 but my first climb there was in the spring of 1961 when I followed Ron James up the Boulder. I was a VS leader then but managed it well and remember the crux (as a second) was the first move on the second pitch.
For the rest of that year I stuck to the classics, but in 1962 I was climbing at my best. By mid-summer I had led Llythrig, Diglyph, Bloody, Vember, Corner, Octo, Gargoyle and my favourite of all, Shrike.
At the time I was an instructor at Ogwen Cottage and my colleague, Dave Yates, was also climbing well. We could not afford to go to the Alps so we decided on a week on Cloggy, camping at the base. We got all the gear together, which included two seven pint cans of Ansells bitter (anyone remember them) and many cigarettes for Dave. Also were a pair of two hundred foot ropes for an attempt on the second ascent of the Great Wall - we had agreed to flip a coin to see who would be the leader. It was a Friday and we got the train to Clogwyn station and arrived at the campsite at about 5:00pm. We were so keen that we went straight to the crag and did the third ascent of Serth without stopping - we really were on form.
Well, it rained all the next day and most of Sunday and we had a pretty miserable weekend. The weather was good on Monday so Dave jumps out of bed, lights the Primus, and turns to look at the crag while having a pee. But the wind blew the tent flap on to the stove and set the tent on fire and it really went fast. I woke up to the chaos and managed to exit at the back of the tent, which fortunately did not have a sewn-in groundsheet ! All that was left of the tent were two poles and a few ropes, but there were feathers everywhere from the sleeping bags and a smell of burning rubber from the airbeds, which both caught fire !
At this point our friend Al Hunt showed up to survey the scene - he had taken a day off work to join us. Al has a loud laugh at the best of times but on this occasion he could have been heard in Bangor ! He did have a van and he helped us to evacuate.
A couple of days later we hitched round and Dave led the fourth ascent of Troach and I did the same on Scorpio. Next day we went back, but had just got the news that our good friend Barry Brewster had been killed on the Eiger . We tried and failed on a couple of routes - our hearts were not up to it.
All a long time ago but I do sometimes wonder what we might have achieved that week if the weather had been good.
Thanks for the post and I am happy to add some of my memories of Cloggy.
I started climbing in 1958 but my first climb there was in the spring of 1961 when I followed Ron James up the Boulder. I was a VS leader then but managed it well and remember the crux (as a second) was the first move on the second pitch.
For the rest of that year I stuck to the classics, but in 1962 I was climbing at my best. By mid-summer I had led Llythrig, Diglyph, Bloody, Vember, Corner, Octo, Gargoyle and my favourite of all, Shrike.
At the time I was an instructor at Ogwen Cottage and my colleague, Dave Yates, was also climbing well. We could not afford to go to the Alps so we decided on a week on Cloggy, camping at the base. We got all the gear together, which included two seven pint cans of Ansells bitter (anyone remember them) and many cigarettes for Dave. Also were a pair of two hundred foot ropes for an attempt on the second ascent of the Great Wall - we had agreed to flip a coin to see who would be the leader. It was a Friday and we got the train to Clogwyn station and arrived at the campsite at about 5:00pm. We were so keen that we went straight to the crag and did the third ascent of Serth without stopping - we really were on form.
Well, it rained all the next day and most of Sunday and we had a pretty miserable weekend. The weather was good on Monday so Dave jumps out of bed, lights the Primus, and turns to look at the crag while having a pee. But the wind blew the tent flap on to the stove and set the tent on fire and it really went fast. I woke up to the chaos and managed to exit at the back of the tent, which fortunately did not have a sewn-in groundsheet ! All that was left of the tent were two poles and a few ropes, but there were feathers everywhere from the sleeping bags and a smell of burning rubber from the airbeds, which both caught fire !
At this point our friend Al Hunt showed up to survey the scene - he had taken a day off work to join us. Al has a loud laugh at the best of times but on this occasion he could have been heard in Bangor ! He did have a van and he helped us to evacuate.
A couple of days later we hitched round and Dave led the fourth ascent of Troach and I did the same on Scorpio. Next day we went back, but had just got the news that our good friend Barry Brewster had been killed on the Eiger . We tried and failed on a couple of routes - our hearts were not up to it.
All a long time ago but I do sometimes wonder what we might have achieved that week if the weather had been good.
5
In reply to Chris Craggs: I had my nearest of near death experiences on Cloggy, on Great Slab of all places, when my second fell off the traverse, I hadn't bothered with runners, and because I only had a 120 foot rope hadn't reached good belays either.
A few months later Dave Pearce gave me a lift - he'd just done Vember and told me that he had found it surprisingly technical, so I resolved to do it. Led astray by Ron James' description, who implied it was all over after the crux, I remember shouting down to my 2nd, Dave Jones, 'Cracked it, it's all over now!' It bl**dy well wasn't, there was still another 80 feet of 5b climbing to go, and I only had a few pieces of gear. Still, by the time I got to the top I felt I was almost an XS climber.
A few months later Dave Pearce gave me a lift - he'd just done Vember and told me that he had found it surprisingly technical, so I resolved to do it. Led astray by Ron James' description, who implied it was all over after the crux, I remember shouting down to my 2nd, Dave Jones, 'Cracked it, it's all over now!' It bl**dy well wasn't, there was still another 80 feet of 5b climbing to go, and I only had a few pieces of gear. Still, by the time I got to the top I felt I was almost an XS climber.
In reply to Goucho:
1st time on Cloggy with Gridnorth was 1971 and tried great wall Al managed to get to first belay with 1 point of aid I think there was a peg in the final crack about 10/15 ft from stance, I followed to belay in same style and we were so spent we ab'd off. I went back in 73 freed the 1st pitch and lowered of the second after trying to free but it was too wet and greasy. Didn't get back on it till Late 80s after doing The Axe in sunshine then having a snooze and then going down to do Great wall in the evening sun. every time was a total different experience and mood.
I've had so many fantastic time with different mates doing so many routes of all grades same as many others have in so differant atmospheric days.
PS when I got married I modelled our wedding cake on Cloggy na that's abit sic eh.
Look at some of my Historical photo's on UKC with Bill Briggs and Al.
1st time on Cloggy with Gridnorth was 1971 and tried great wall Al managed to get to first belay with 1 point of aid I think there was a peg in the final crack about 10/15 ft from stance, I followed to belay in same style and we were so spent we ab'd off. I went back in 73 freed the 1st pitch and lowered of the second after trying to free but it was too wet and greasy. Didn't get back on it till Late 80s after doing The Axe in sunshine then having a snooze and then going down to do Great wall in the evening sun. every time was a total different experience and mood.
I've had so many fantastic time with different mates doing so many routes of all grades same as many others have in so differant atmospheric days.
PS when I got married I modelled our wedding cake on Cloggy na that's abit sic eh.
Look at some of my Historical photo's on UKC with Bill Briggs and Al.
In reply to keith sanders
> Look at some of my Historical photo's on UKC with Bill Briggs and Al.
So that makes 2 of us who were daft enough to buy a pair of Gollies then Keith?
God damn awful things - less use than a pair of slippers. I think I wore mine for about 3 weeks, before the rands peeled off half way up the last pitch of The Grooves on Cryn Las, and I threw them off the top in disgust.
Post edited at 15:31
In reply to Goucho:
I thought the Gollies were fantastic the blue one's Jack Street gave me them then I even resoled them with soles from school plimsole's and then went and fell of Wee Doris on last move at Stony
I thought the Gollies were fantastic the blue one's Jack Street gave me them then I even resoled them with soles from school plimsole's and then went and fell of Wee Doris on last move at Stony
In reply to keith sanders:
You're a brave man for attempting anything above 5b in them
> I thought the Gollies were fantastic the blue one's Jack Street gave me them then I even resoled them with soles from school plimsole's and then went and fell of Wee Doris on last move at Stony
You're a brave man for attempting anything above 5b in them
In reply to Chris Craggs:
A smile a mile wide:
http://www.ukclimbing.com/images/dbpage.php?id=265324
Chris
A smile a mile wide:
http://www.ukclimbing.com/images/dbpage.php?id=265324
Chris
In reply to Removed Userboje:
Bloody hell, Boje - that really is something else! If this thread was ever a competition (which I hope it isn't), you've just won outright.
I find it haunting that Barry Brewster (RIP) went for the first British ascent of the North Face of the Eiger after losing Great Wall to Crew. ("I'm sorry, Brian." Surely a contender for the most poignant words in the entire history of mountaineering.)
And ironic (no, that's not quite the right word but I can't think of the right word right now) that Dave Yates did the second ascent of Great Wall and, some years later, ended up, with many others, in extremis, on the Walker in dire conditions.
It's said that Rene Desmaison was asked by an interviewer what would happen (like, they're all going to die!) and he murmured sagely, "A leader will emerge..." (Four words with an awful lot of hard-won wisdom behind them.)
With the likes of Claudio Barbier and Lawrie Holliwell on the route, a leader did emerge - your mate, Dave Yates, who pulled out all the stops and got them all up it. And saved their lives - every last one of them.
Not bad for a guy who stuttered. Not bad for anyone. Ever.
Mick
> Also were a pair of two hundred foot ropes for an attempt on the second ascent of the Great Wall - we had agreed to flip a coin to see who would be the leader.
Bloody hell, Boje - that really is something else! If this thread was ever a competition (which I hope it isn't), you've just won outright.
I find it haunting that Barry Brewster (RIP) went for the first British ascent of the North Face of the Eiger after losing Great Wall to Crew. ("I'm sorry, Brian." Surely a contender for the most poignant words in the entire history of mountaineering.)
And ironic (no, that's not quite the right word but I can't think of the right word right now) that Dave Yates did the second ascent of Great Wall and, some years later, ended up, with many others, in extremis, on the Walker in dire conditions.
It's said that Rene Desmaison was asked by an interviewer what would happen (like, they're all going to die!) and he murmured sagely, "A leader will emerge..." (Four words with an awful lot of hard-won wisdom behind them.)
With the likes of Claudio Barbier and Lawrie Holliwell on the route, a leader did emerge - your mate, Dave Yates, who pulled out all the stops and got them all up it. And saved their lives - every last one of them.
Not bad for a guy who stuttered. Not bad for anyone. Ever.
Mick
3
In reply to Mick Ward:
Hello Mick - you say :
"I find it haunting that Barry Brewster (RIP) went for the first British ascent of the North Face of the Eiger after losing Great Wall to Crew "
I just wondered how you knew this as I did not think it was widely known.
Yes, Dave was a talented and bold climber - he did lead the second ascent of Great Wall a week or so later on a day that I had to work. Incidentally, he never stuttered when the situation was serious.
Regards,
Boje
Hello Mick - you say :
"I find it haunting that Barry Brewster (RIP) went for the first British ascent of the North Face of the Eiger after losing Great Wall to Crew "
I just wondered how you knew this as I did not think it was widely known.
Yes, Dave was a talented and bold climber - he did lead the second ascent of Great Wall a week or so later on a day that I had to work. Incidentally, he never stuttered when the situation was serious.
Regards,
Boje
In reply to Removed Userboje:
Hi Boje,
A couple of years ago, there was a thread about Barry Brewster having done the first free ascent of Vulcan at Tremadog - about 1961 or '62. I'm pretty sure it was mentioned on that.
Free climbing Vulcan back then seems utterly outrageous. All right, it might have been safe, but the pegs were probably blocking key holds. I've never done it but everyone says it's hard, over 50 years later. In the state Barry Brewster did it, F7a/+?? God only knows! And this was decades before people learned to get strong through power training.
Phil Kershaw once mentioned Dave Yates' stuttering to me. Someone (he's dead now and I won't say who) was really cruel to him, one night in the Padarn. Probably everyone was pissed out of their heads. Still, it must have been quite a cross to bear.
I've always regarded Dave Yates as an unsung hero of British climbing. Rene Desmaison was absolutely correct about what was going to happen on the Walker - rather like Buhl on the Eiger.
When everyone's up shit creek, you never know who's going to shoulder the awful responsibility of getting it right - or getting it wrong. He shouldered it in impeccable style.
Best wishes,
Mick
Hi Boje,
A couple of years ago, there was a thread about Barry Brewster having done the first free ascent of Vulcan at Tremadog - about 1961 or '62. I'm pretty sure it was mentioned on that.
Free climbing Vulcan back then seems utterly outrageous. All right, it might have been safe, but the pegs were probably blocking key holds. I've never done it but everyone says it's hard, over 50 years later. In the state Barry Brewster did it, F7a/+?? God only knows! And this was decades before people learned to get strong through power training.
Phil Kershaw once mentioned Dave Yates' stuttering to me. Someone (he's dead now and I won't say who) was really cruel to him, one night in the Padarn. Probably everyone was pissed out of their heads. Still, it must have been quite a cross to bear.
I've always regarded Dave Yates as an unsung hero of British climbing. Rene Desmaison was absolutely correct about what was going to happen on the Walker - rather like Buhl on the Eiger.
When everyone's up shit creek, you never know who's going to shoulder the awful responsibility of getting it right - or getting it wrong. He shouldered it in impeccable style.
Best wishes,
Mick
Post edited at 18:38
In reply to Goucho:
Great days, camping above the lake, swimming in the lake before and after climbing. Best route, probably Jelly Roll, but Great Wall, Curving Arete, Shrike and The Axe are up there with it. Most memorable, Great Slab, realising it would be dry and climbing it while recovering from a hangover on 1st February '81. Route I have no intention of ever repeating - Little Krapper - in '77 it was graded HVS 5b, but I think the modern grade (E3 5c) is nearer the mark - delicate thin poorly protected climbing, not what I was expecting at all.
Wildest experience, running back down the path after following White Slab and grabbing a quick swim - suddenly a thunderstorm started up - strikes all around, strong wind lashing me with hail, the faster I ran the less it hurt, madly exhilarating.
Great days, camping above the lake, swimming in the lake before and after climbing. Best route, probably Jelly Roll, but Great Wall, Curving Arete, Shrike and The Axe are up there with it. Most memorable, Great Slab, realising it would be dry and climbing it while recovering from a hangover on 1st February '81. Route I have no intention of ever repeating - Little Krapper - in '77 it was graded HVS 5b, but I think the modern grade (E3 5c) is nearer the mark - delicate thin poorly protected climbing, not what I was expecting at all.
Wildest experience, running back down the path after following White Slab and grabbing a quick swim - suddenly a thunderstorm started up - strikes all around, strong wind lashing me with hail, the faster I ran the less it hurt, madly exhilarating.
1
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