'I've never put so much effort into moving upwards, only to stay in the exact same place!' Rhoslyn Frugtniet writes about her recent ascent of The Quarryman (E8 7a), at  Twll Mawr.

---

We've always talked about it, half-jokingly, half-seriously.

'One day, we'll do the Quarryman'.

For me, there's something magnetic about it — the history, the improbable movement, the sheer atmosphere of the slate quarries! It's one of those routes that hangs over the UK climbing scene: historic, esoteric, completely ridiculous. This year, with no big open sport projects pulling us in other directions, we finally had no excuse to not try it.

During the recent heatwave, we made a reccy mission to scope out the pitches and get familiar with the line. It felt like the perfect use of a scorching day where it was too hot to climb properly anywhere else. We didn't really know what to expect, but we knew it would be a day of hard graft, and it absolutely was.

The wall doesn't see any shade until around 3pm, so we eased into the day — morning brew, quick swim to cool off — then the big abseil when the rock lost some of its heat.

Day 1. 

The goal was simple: try the Groove pitch.

On the way down, we stopped to have a go at the final crux sequence, the notorious 7a move.

Absolutely nails.

Neither of us could do it, or even begin to piece together a feasible way. Fuck! Still, all hope wasn't lost. We kept abbing down, thinking maybe we just needed more time on the slate to start unlocking its weird logic and movement.

Most of the day ended up focused on the Groove. We'd assumed it would be the crux, and it didn't disappoint. There was a lot of huffing, puffing, and fighting - I've never put so much effort into moving upwards, only to stay in the exact same place!

Eventually, we scraped together a way to get established in the groove and some semblance of a sequence to shuffle upwards. But it was desperate — slick, physical, and low-percentage for both of us. A proper scrap!

Day 2.

We focused on pitches one and two.

Pitch one felt relatively manageable. Run-out, yes, but not overly physical. It's a series of technical boulders broken up by decent rests, and we figured it out fairly quickly.

Pitch two was awkward and unpleasant, but it's a short-lived traverse to find yourself back at the base of the Groove again.

And the Groove? Same story. Slippery, stubborn, and still utterly ridiculous. I think I made it maybe two centimetres higher than the day before. So… progress?

Day 3.

This time, we decided to try the pitches on top-rope from bottom to top, more or less simulating a full link-up to get a sense of what it would take to do the whole route in a day. The first pitch went smoothly. It's technical but steady once you know the moves — though leading it would definitely feel like a whole different experience!

The big win of the day came on the Groove pitch. Tom unlocked some solid beta, a higher-percentage method that involved turning around higher up in the groove and facing out. Total opposite to my approach (which was similar to the original beta used by Johnny Dawes facing inwards) but it worked. I managed to link the pitch in two halves, with my shoulder giving up right near the top due to pure fatigue. But we felt close.

We both managed to do the final pitch, two sections for me and in one for Tom. Everything finally felt like it was coming together.

Send day

Two weeks later, we came back for the full link, psyched and ready to give it a proper go. 

Unfortunately, we were greeted by torrential rain that morning; classic North Wales weather! But true to slate's magical properties, the wall dried quickly and our spirits stayed high. By around 2pm the rain eased off, the rock dried, and we committed. We abbed in, ticked a few crucial holds, and set off on our attempt to climb the whole route in one push.

Everything was going smoothly, right up until the Groove pitch. Tom cruised it in just two goes, with an unfortunate slip low down on his first attempt.

For me, it was a different story. I'd felt quietly confident, but kept slipping at the upper crux, just after the dreaded groove shuffle. Legs tired, beta refined, I set off for one final shimmy and thankfully found myself standing on the pedestal beneath the final pitch.

We got straight on with the last pitch, which, thankfully, felt way more manageable in the cooler temps. Topping out, we were completely psyched, buzzing off the send, the effort, and the history of the route, and to top it off, there was a beer waiting for us, stashed earlier that morning, and still cold. Perfection.