The days go by, grey turns into black then into grey again. The weather comes and the days go, winter seems eternal but the sunrise of summer is on the horizon. The days are starting to get longer, the enduring bleakness slowly giving away to invasive patches of blue. But in the past few weeks winter came back with a vengeance and is currently in its final throes of death.
It was the week the so called beast from the east hit, winter climbing became the hot thing on social media and I was stoked to join in. I was attempting to head Manchester anyway as I was attending the wideboyz crack school, so when Eric messaged asking if I wanted to be dragged up an ice filled gully I jumped at the chance. It was the Monday after the storm when we headed out, knowing the ice was receding we headed to Wales, hoping some altitude might maintain the freeze.
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The solemn gaze of an ice climber watching his paradise crumble and recede into the reality of its surroundings
Photo by Me |
As we were driving over it wasn't looking promising, the odd patch of snow offered the only reminder of the savagery of the weather the week before. Parking at Ogwen it started to rain but been British and optimistic we grabbed the bags and headed up to Clogwyn Du. The drudgery of the approach and the sodden weather got me thinking of all the times I've been overly optimistic about conditions, was this going to be another foolhardy endeavour?
As we got to about 500m we noticed a frozen waterfall at the base of the final climb up to Clogwyn Du so we headed over to inspect. As we got closer it was looking good, the ice looked thick. Although the sound of running water was slightly disconcerting, but apparently that's normal. Eric gave me a quick masterclass in how to go upwards on ice and then set off leading up the three tiered ice fall of Cneifon Stream. Walking up it he made it look pretty easy whilst I suffered the full brunt of the Welsh rain. Luckily for once my jacket addiction paid off and the layers of Alpkit Primaloft meant I stayed pretty toasty. Once Eric had gone through the classic British struggle of finding an anchor he called for me to start up. Stuffing my drenched jacket into my seeping rucksack I grabbed the axes and started up.
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| Before the hot aches kicked in. Photo by Eric |
The ice started to crumble as I took a tentative swing of the axe, it took a couple of swings and it sunk, to my knowledge it was bomber. Kicking my feet the ice didn't seem so secure but hey my hands were on jugs. Kicking and smearing I moved up, repeating this process I made progress until the final vertical section. The line Eric had taken was looking worse for wear and the waterfall was returning to its natural state. So I thought I'd use the corner to the right, unfortunately this required actual technique. Utilising the scraps of my ability and strength I created movement and scraped upwards, an unsuccessful use of the knees being the only shameful moment. After I had recovered from an inevitable bought of hot aches we left the belay and scrambled up the grade 1ish gully to Clogwyn Du, which was fun apart from me almost sketching off the only vertical section due to another ill fated attempt at utilising the knees.
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| Winter makes easy things look gnarly Eric on another boss lead. Photo by Me |
As we ascended we witnessed the transition from rain to snow and the damp British spring was replaced the full on alpine scenery. For our next adventure Eric chose a grade 3 gully at the top of a 45 degree snow slope. Hanging from a sling and setting up the belay I had a moment I haven't experienced since I started climbing. The feeling where you have no gauge of what is hard and what is easy, where everything feels like an adventure, I was so psyched. As Eric progressed up the gully the spindrift came raining down leaving me soaked and stoked to follow him on another steady lead. Leaving the sanctuary of the spike I made progress upwards bridging and using my rudimentary technique I started to feel like the movement was becoming more natural. Finding my way through the crux section using Erics tool marks like brail I felt the veil of mystery as to why everyone goes ice climbing was been lifted. Loving every motion and moment I still found myself missing the feeling of cold rock on bare fingers and the fluidity of moving up a dry stone, content yet conflicted I joined Eric in an awesome rime lined cave. He raced on up the easy snow slope above and channelling my inner Steck I joined him at the top. Picking our way down the steep slopes the snow was damp and sticky, making the descent slower and more arduous. Grabbing the packs we carried on, the snow becoming heavier and visibility poorer. We descended from the clouds and our imaginary alpine world, rain replaced the snow and reality settled in. As we walked out of the valley we could see the final strands of winter slowly loosening their grip on the world.
