I’ve said before how it was Helen and her Dad, Pete, who first introduced me to climbing, over 40 years ago (and without whose intervention you might be reading GolfingAroundTheWorld or something equally grim!) They were members of The Stafford Mountain Club at the time, and my first taste of rock was at Craig Cywarch where the club has its hut. We climbed Restoration S 4a, and Recuperation, Diff,

…and the next day Helen and I went for a walk up Cader Idris,

…as recorded in the Bryn Hafod Hut Book:

The following day we went to Barmouth Slabs, escaping the weather in the mountains, and did a few enjoyable routes including top-roping Xebec, HVS 5a (not bad for a second day on rock, though of course top-roping a slab I dare say I was dragged up it!) Here’s Helen, being belayed by Pete, showing her much greater experience and technique no doubt.

All that is a bit of a back story to why we ended up taking a slightly more northerly route back on our journey home from Cardigan Bay.

First stop Barmouth, and what a gorgeous spot it is, sandwiched between the sea and the mountains, but somewhat off the major tourist radar. Any hope for a tranquil trip down Memory Lane was dented by the guidebook warning: ‘Popular with groups’. I should say so! There were at least four parties of school kids: clearly distinguished by their White, Red, Blue and Yellow hats. Xebec takes the shorter slab on the left of the photo below, finding a line between two good cracks.

We were relieved to find the route unoccupied by a gaggle of youths, and dropped our sacks down at the bottom. We were just gearing up and paying our ropes out when a voice from above shouted: ‘I’m just about to set up an abseil down this line‘. We pointed out that, a) we were there first; and b) it was a time-honoured tradition that a lead climbing party would normally be given precedence over top-ropers and certainly abseilers; and c) that he could happily abseil a couple of metres either side and we’d all be happy. I record the rest of the conversation, only because it’s so ridiculous that it was amusing…

The instructor came up with the following ever more preposterous lines of reasoning: ‘I’ve got paying clients, so I have priority‘ (hrmm… I don’t think so…). ‘I have to pay a fee to access the crag with a group so you have to give way‘ (sorry mate, it’s CRoW land); ‘I can’t set up an abseil either side because there are no belays.’ LOL, are you even actually a climber?!

With much grumping, and little grace, our abseiling friend shuffled off to a different part of the crag, leaving me to rack up and crack on. The route gets E1 5a now, which is pretty fair in light of the modest amount of protection, and I felt the slightest bit of pressure jumping on it from cold, knowing that any faltering would cede the moral high-ground. Happily it was fine, and actually a really good route. Helen led the adjacent Crack 1, Severe.

Fab outlook and by the time we left we had the place to ourselves.

Instead of revisiting Cywarch (that will have to wait for a future trip) we decided to repeat our ascent of Cader, but to make things a bit more interesting we’d take the Cyfrwy Arete via the Table Direct start, a grand mountain day, with a couple of hundred metres of climbing up to about VDiff and another couple of hundred metres of scrambling. Top tip is to base yourself at the campsite just beyond the pay and display carpark.

Not much in the way of facilities (but there are plush toilets in the car park), but it’s only £10, has a stupendous view, and they let you leave your van there all day (thus avoiding the £6 parking fee). Bargain!

You get a magnificent view of the route, with the “Table” being the obvious slanting platform around one third height, the “Direct” taking the unlikely looking line straight up to it, and the rest of the ridge more or less following the skyline.

Not quite so glorious the next morning…

… but the odd bit of cloud was quite welcome as we plodded up to Llyn y Gadair. As we approached the lake we caught up with a team of three young climbers who were pausing to take in the view, and confirmed our worst fears that they had the same route in mind. “We shouldn’t hold you up” I said as I got a wiggle on up the last scree slog to the foot of the route, and I’d run the first four pitches together (only 50m) before they’d finished gearing up. The climbing on this section is on magnificent rock with great holds, with a couple of slings enough to make the feat respectable. Helen wasn’t far behind.

After a down scramble, the pitch up to the Table is also excellent, followed by another down-climb to the foot of the notch.

… and another couple of fun pitches (easily run together).

The team behind Helen skipped the direct start, and you can just about make out the team of three below them.

These lead to an exposed pinnacle ridge…

… and a final steep chimney.

All that remains is another couple of hundred metres of scrambling.

Fab views from the ridge top back to the other teams on the route

… and then you can round off the day nicely with a circuit to the Summit of Cader, from where you can admire your efforts (and marvel at the first ascent by OG Jones on 18/May/1888)