Seizing the moment - Tryfan

“The test is negative…”, came the news down the phone. We’d presumed the result of the Covid test wouldn’t come back in time and we’d already cancelled the trip. But here was the all-clear to go for a proper weekend’s climbing for the first time in a year and despite not having packed or sorted gear out, we went from dropping our begrudged DIY and home plans to hitting the road in an hour.

Typically polished hold on Milestone Buttress

We’d heard the horror stories about parking in Wales but some of the classic Ogwen routes really appealed so we bagged the parking spot on the Friday evening and shared Milestone car park with a mixture of desperate adventurers and a stag-do that probably wasn’t allowed to visit Blackpool due to local restrictions, making do with hired camper vans instead.

Enjoying a leisurely breakfast, we observed the busy car parks and laybys filling up with increasingly stressed and rule-stretching enthusiasts. It was easy to agree with some of the news articles about the irresponsible hordes swarming over Snowdonia and causing chaos around the roads, but today I felt every sympathy with each attempted parking manoeuvre; just like all of them, I was simply pleased to be there, about to set off into the hills that I love.

The day’s agenda was the 2 big routes on the East side of Tryfan; First Pinnacle Rib and Gashed Crag, having done Grooved Arete a couple of years ago together. Despite being about to walk past Milestone Buttress, we had decided that it was so easy to get to that we’d climb it on the way through Wales some other time, concentrating on walking into the mountain crags on this trip. However, within about 5 minutes of eyeing it up whilst setting off, we continued to adopt the “seize the moment” mentality that had caused us to drive here in the first place and changed our minds. Using Milestone Buttress as a way to make that first bit of height gain had that link-up feel about it, so we took the risk of it costing us time later on and went for it.

Milestone Buttress - Direct Route & Ivy Chimney

The clearly labelled start of FPR

This is a quality route, with each pitch having a different flavour. It’s one of those routes that although polished, it’s easy enough that the polish can be treated as a guide and you can enjoy the climbing without needing to think one bit about route finding. I mean, you know that on pitch 2 you’re going to traverse out left; that’s the iconic bit, but the rest of the route is as obvious and natural a line as you’d like. Pitch 3 involved a squirm up the first of the day’s chimneys, which was properly damp and slippy on exactly 50% of the essential footholds. I hate chimneys.

Onwards and around to the Heather Terrace, the route onto which never seems as obvious to me as it should. Looking down to Tryfan Bach and spotting the Knight’s Move pitch of Grooved Arete above, we felt on familiar territory. I’m sure anyone who’s ever used a climbing guide has made the mistake of being in the wrong place but convincing themselves that the features above fit the description in print and choosing the wrong line, but one place you should never end up in this situation is the East face of Tryfan. Most of the famous routes have the initials of the climb scraped into the rock at the base. So how I nearly talked us into setting off up a buttress clearly marked NB, thinking it may be First Pinnacle Rib, I’ve no idea.

A more careful and sensible look around told us that we were one gully short of the central buttress which FPR took to the summit.

First Pinnacle Rib

Above the Pinnacle

Another chance to move together on reasonably comfortable terrain meant we could enjoy this route as a flowing climbing experience; a world apart from the short, technical gritstone that had been our hobby a decade ago. Passing another pair, I was asked if we were French. Not wearing a beret or onions, I guess he meant we looked like confident, slick alpinists; if so, then I accept the compliment. Totally out of character to the route, but absolutely on the natural line, we then encountered yellow slab behind the pinnacle. Pitching this short section, I quivered up a tricky, delicate rock-over, now looking less the alpinist, but grateful for the technical grit days that prepared me. Crux slab behind us, we could cruise up the rest of the line, which quite wonderfully ends right on the mountain summit, a superb and natural mountaineers’ climb.

Except that bloody chimney; I hate chimneys. Thomson’s Chimney defeated me. I imagine that if it had been unavoidable we’d have found a way through it, but the original route just goes round it, so we took the easy option for the sake of time to get another route in.

Tackling the Gashed Crag

Gashed Crag

In honesty, Gashed Crag didn’t feel half as natural, continuous or flowing as FPR, I think we’d been spoilt by that experience. The gash that gives the route it’s name is a really impressive feature though and worth a look from up close. One guide describes it as though a giant had cut some of the crag away with his axe and that’s exactly how it appears. The line meanders a little to navigate the gash and generally gets a little harder as you ascend. Moving together on terrain of this grade has now become a natural and practiced technique for us, yet we’re still quick to pitch when required.

The top 17 metres of Gashed Crag did require pitching, although the dilemma we faced was how to finish it. I’d taken a photo on the phone of the guide book page to save carrying a book up but hadn’t noticed I’d cropped the bottom line of the route description off. On looking ahead, leading and seeking guidance, I don’t think John gained much confidence from me reading out what I had.

“Several alternatives can be found here, most feel hard. The best...”

Great! Which of the several alternatives was the best? Which was a mantrap? Looking back, I think we might have finished up the top of Munich Climb, entering territory of a grade that was doable but unexpectedly challenging for the route we’d embarked on. Even this had another chimney section. I hate chimneys.

Satisfied with a successful day on Tryfan’s big routes, we descended into the sunset, meeting other smiling, content walkers and stopping to admire the ponies that live out here.

They’re not in Classic Rock, but on the Sunday we fancied easy routes again, so saving Glyder Fach direct for another trip, we ventured into Cwm Idwal and romped up Tennis Shoe and onto the Cneifion Arete, a climb which could go on for hours without tiring of it, such is the atmosphere, position and interest.

On the journey home, we enjoyed listening to Leicester beating Man City 5-2 and felt grateful to have squeezed the trip in, although regretfully, we’d not been able to leave any money in the local economy with the customary meal out and a couple of beers.

One week later and Gwynedd was back into a local lockdown, climbing on Tryfan legally and morally frowned upon for the foreseeable future. A moment seized indeed.