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Rockfax Description
A pleasant route up an airy rib. Start below a crack leading through a short steep section behind a boulder.
1) 13m. Make a hard pull off the boulder onto the overhanging face and step up to better hand and foot holds. Carry on up more easily to reach the ledge with a rowan tree.
2) 30m. Move left and head up the airy rib to the left of the quartz-covered slab. At the block, head up the rounded rib to a block belay on a long ledge.
3) 7m. Move right along the ledge to the corner and climb this to the top. © Rockfax

UKC Logbook Description
The Rowan tree from the first belay is gone.

Ticklists

North Wales Rock Graded List, Snowdonia - long routes and classic climbs, Solos

Feedback

User Date Notes
Pete_Frost 29 Nov Show βeta
βeta: Stand on the rock to climb the far chimney at a very hard VDiff. Starting from standing on the ground feels closer to HVS.
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βeta: Stand on the rock to climb the far chimney at a very hard VDiff. Starting from standing on the ground feels closer to HVS.
youcallwefall 26 Oct Show βeta
βeta: hell of a leg stretch at the start
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βeta: hell of a leg stretch at the start
Max BB 1 Sep Show βeta
βeta: Pretty tricky to get to! The scree tracks are pretty much invisible on the way up so just pick something that looks like it vaguely zig-zags up and go for it.
βeta?
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βeta: Pretty tricky to get to! The scree tracks are pretty much invisible on the way up so just pick something that looks like it vaguely zig-zags up and go for it.
sl8trboi 22 Jul Show βeta
βeta: Approach: The Unattainable Crag - An Odyssey Following an HVW (hard very wet) approach to clogwyn y oen (where some delightful multipitching was completed) we set our sights on the gorgeous crag of craig y clipiau, with rockfax informing us that it was ‘8 minutes’ down the road. How naïve we were. We set off on a lovely stroll down the road (previously not located, hence HVW), but on rounding the corner we caught sight of what appeared to be the crag in question. “that can’t be the crag. Surely, that can’t be the crag.” We exclaimed, for it was atop a rather high mountain of slate scree. Where did this slate come from I hear you ask, for the crag was not one of slate origin, we asked ourselves this very same question. Over and over til we went insane. Things were going well. We passed a lovely waterfall and headed up the quarry track to its right, as instructed by the guidebook. We began to go awry when we rounded the bend, again, as stated in the book, as saw a track heading up through the slate towards the base of the crag. However this path quickly disappeared, so after a bit of scrambling we managed to find another path leading in what we thought was the right direction. (hint: it was not) We continued left around the hill until this path, too, abandoned us, so we turned back on ourselves, walking in the other direction until we saw a mine track below us through the scree. After a slightly perilous scramble down to it we headed off again, still optimistic about the afternoon. Until we reached the bog. Safe to say after the wet walk in of the morning, nobody was pleased. WHY WAS THERE A BOG UP. A. MOUNTAIN. Anger, pain, betrayal, total lack of physics. We were faced with two choices: through the bog, or over the scree. Joe chose the latter, leaving him with dry feet, (“and broken ankles”, Liza commented as he slipped. savage.) At about this point we began to get upset. Where. Was. The. Crag. It was either a deathly solo up a mountain of slate guillotine blades, or somehow crawl up a vertical bog (HOW?). Guess which one we chose? After ascending the vertical bog, the hysteria really set in. We sat atop a crag, the wrong crag, with a vertical drop on our left and impassable boulders on our right and realised that maybe, just maybe, we weren’t getting to this crag. It was now 6pm. The atmosphere on this hill was truly indescribable. By turns screaming and maniacally laughing, staring at the crag, gleaming in the sun tauntingly to our right (a long way to our right), and the car, many, many metres below us, a dot on the horizon reminding us we still had to get down. After a half an hour, during which we all went through the five stages of grief (is dehydration one of the stages?), and contemplated letting the mountain take us, to live out the rest of our days among the sheep (which shouted at us the whole time, mocking our struggle), we admitted defeat and headed home. But this isn’t where the odyssey ended. Oh no. After retracing our steps down a steep, still somehow wet scramble, we reached the slate again and decided to follow a mine trail, which (unsurprisingly after our experiences with other paths on this approach) ran out. Leaving us lost and stranded on the Everest of scree, with no way down but to tackle the slate slide. A bone found on the path did not bode well, but we persevered and kept our spirits high. Somehow we plucked up enough courage to start down the slope of doom, fearing with every step that we were coming closer to death by slate impalement. We don’t need to tell you that the idea of stepping wrongly and surfing down the hill on a piece of razor sharp slate the size of a coffin lid, decapitating your friends along the way, did not make for a stress-free descent. By some miracle we made it back to flat ground and (joy of joys) ANOTHER BOG, but at this point our feet were so sodden and our spirits so crushed that we were just glad to be alive, and not buried under six feet of slate. To be honest, it might have been easier to have called mountain rescue. Big day out!!!!
βeta?
Show beta
βeta: Approach: The Unattainable Crag - An Odyssey Following an HVW (hard very wet) approach to clogwyn y oen (where some delightful multipitching was completed) we set our sights on the gorgeous crag of craig y clipiau, with rockfax informing us that it was ‘8 minutes’ down the road. How naïve we were. We set off on a lovely stroll down the road (previously not located, hence HVW), but on rounding the corner we caught sight of what appeared to be the crag in question. “that can’t be the crag. Surely, that can’t be the crag.” We exclaimed, for it was atop a rather high mountain of slate scree. Where did this slate come from I hear you ask, for the crag was not one of slate origin, we asked ourselves this very same question. Over and over til we went insane. Things were going well. We passed a lovely waterfall and headed up the quarry track to its right, as instructed by the guidebook. We began to go awry when we rounded the bend, again, as stated in the book, as saw a track heading up through the slate towards the base of the crag. However this path quickly disappeared, so after a bit of scrambling we managed to find another path leading in what we thought was the right direction. (hint: it was not) We continued left around the hill until this path, too, abandoned us, so we turned back on ourselves, walking in the other direction until we saw a mine track below us through the scree. After a slightly perilous scramble down to it we headed off again, still optimistic about the afternoon. Until we reached the bog. Safe to say after the wet walk in of the morning, nobody was pleased. WHY WAS THERE A BOG UP. A. MOUNTAIN. Anger, pain, betrayal, total lack of physics. We were faced with two choices: through the bog, or over the scree. Joe chose the latter, leaving him with dry feet, (“and broken ankles”, Liza commented as he slipped. savage.) At about this point we began to get upset. Where. Was. The. Crag. It was either a deathly solo up a mountain of slate guillotine blades, or somehow crawl up a vertical bog (HOW?). Guess which one we chose? After ascending the vertical bog, the hysteria really set in. We sat atop a crag, the wrong crag, with a vertical drop on our left and impassable boulders on our right and realised that maybe, just maybe, we weren’t getting to this crag. It was now 6pm. The atmosphere on this hill was truly indescribable. By turns screaming and maniacally laughing, staring at the crag, gleaming in the sun tauntingly to our right (a long way to our right), and the car, many, many metres below us, a dot on the horizon reminding us we still had to get down. After a half an hour, during which we all went through the five stages of grief (is dehydration one of the stages?), and contemplated letting the mountain take us, to live out the rest of our days among the sheep (which shouted at us the whole time, mocking our struggle), we admitted defeat and headed home. But this isn’t where the odyssey ended. Oh no. After retracing our steps down a steep, still somehow wet scramble, we reached the slate again and decided to follow a mine trail, which (unsurprisingly after our experiences with other paths on this approach) ran out. Leaving us lost and stranded on the Everest of scree, with no way down but to tackle the slate slide. A bone found on the path did not bode well, but we persevered and kept our spirits high. Somehow we plucked up enough courage to start down the slope of doom, fearing with every step that we were coming closer to death by slate impalement. We don’t need to tell you that the idea of stepping wrongly and surfing down the hill on a piece of razor sharp slate the size of a coffin lid, decapitating your friends along the way, did not make for a stress-free descent. By some miracle we made it back to flat ground and (joy of joys) ANOTHER BOG, but at this point our feet were so sodden and our spirits so crushed that we were just glad to be alive, and not buried under six feet of slate. To be honest, it might have been easier to have called mountain rescue. Big day out!!!!

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Voting
High HVD
Mid HVD
Low HVD
High VD
Mid VD
Low VD
High HD
Mid HD
Low HD
Votes cast 59
Votes cast 54
Style of Ascent
Alt Leads
Lead
Followed
Soloed
Not Set
Onsighted
Repeated
Flashed (β)
DNF
Redpoint
Dogged
Ground Up
Not Set
Route of Interest

Spiral Stairs

Grade: VD ***
(Dinas Cromlech)