Avon Gorge and The Roaches

The Friday following our trip to Wales, I was back in the car again first thing on my way to Bristol, ostensibly for a job interview.

I turned up late to the interview (thanks to misdirections from my consultant), did well enough for them to ask me back for a second interview because that's how I roll, and turned it down anyway because I'm done with the financial services industry forever.

Far more lucrative was a chat with a professor from Bristol University. Watch this space, I hope...

Naturally I used the opportunity to get a quick climb in before racing home. Idleburger Buttress was a straightforward but enjoyable single pitch, with some polished moves lower down.

The next morning I once again found myself alone in a car full of climbing and camping gear. This time we were headed to the Roaches.

In typical fashion I arrived just as Will was setting off from Bristol and so had a several hour wait. I occupied myself by taking a few pictures of a team on the lower pitch of Valkyrie, then doing a little bit of soloing on some moderate ground of the Upper Tier. Then the weather which had been just about holding off closed in properly. I ducked for cover under a conveniently placed rock with a view of the Valkyrie top-out. The team from earlier were still making their way up the top pitch. The second was apparently able to find some shelter but for the poor leader, stuck on belay, there was absolutely nowhere to hide or escape.

Wrong place, wrong time. A bedraggled climber caught out in a rain storm.

As soon as the squall passed, the patch of ground in front of the Upper Tier resembled a meerkat colony, with people popping up from various shelters strewn around. At long last the Valkyrie team completed the top pitch with a much larger audience than expected.

You'll be glad to know that the sun came out shortly afterwards, and not too long after that Will arrived to rescue me from my boredom. We climbed a few short and easy VDiffs at the right hand end of the Lower Tier, before unroping and doing them again in solo. Will then struggled his way up Sifta's Quid, his first HS. Being somewhat more lithe, I was able to follow without too much difficulty.

Easy soloing on Captain Lethargy

To round things off, I had a half arsed attempt at leading the lower pitch of Valkyrie, gave up and jammed my way up Yong, a fierce little HVDiff.

I caught this view of the Hen Cloud on the way back to the car

We were slow getting started the following morning after a few beers and a surprisingly comfy night's sleep at the Roaches Bunkhouse down the road. Adam and Rachael were already gearing up by the time we rocked up at the crag, and had done a route before I even had my harness on.

First we attempted Jeffcoat's Chimney, a classic (blank, squirmy and slimey) VDiff. First Will and then I struggled to make any decent progress, eventually leaving half our rack hanging off the route at intervals. For the second time in a week, I found myself abseiling off the top to retrieve gear, then going up again to retrieve the rope. Don't try pulling a rope through on grit, it won't work.

We now turned our attention to Blacks and Tans, a classic gritstone Severe. Will lead the first pitch without too much trouble. I carefully stepped around and over him, then gently edged out along a hand traverse to a ledge. Stepping off this ledge required a committing move up on a smeary foothold.

From here it seemed as if the hard work was done, and a few more careful moves would lead to the top. Instead, I found myself on a narrow ledge from which the only way up was an off balance mantelshelf move. There was no protection to be had at all, and nor was there any way to safely climb back down. After standing there a few minutes, and with a growing crowd peering up at me, I took the only remaining option and shouted for a rope down.

When Will finally joined me at the top, he took great pleasure in pointing out to me the route around to the left which I could have safely taken if I'd explored just a little bit further round.

My mood wasn't improved by Adam's report on all the HS routes he'd lead in the meantime. After that debacle, I'd had quite enough of climbing for one weekend. And indeed by the time I made it home, I'd also had enough of driving for a month too. Convenient, since a month is roughly the amount of time before I go stir crazy and need to head outdoors again.

Hen Cloud and the view from the Lower Tier

Evening light on the Upper Tier

A walk in the dark

The Rhosydd slate mines above Blaenau Ffestiniog have stood abandoned since their closure in 1948, but are a popular destination for mine enthusiasts and other adventurous explorers. We had been planning a through trip for a while and the opportunity arose on the Sunday of our visit.

A pleasant walk through the hills above Blaenau leads to the mine entrance. On the way we pass plenty of reminders of the departed human presence here, including a row of barracks right outside the entrance to the mine itself.

Barracks and junk outside the mine entrance.

We waterproofed and helmeted up, switched on our headtorches and waded in. The mine entrance is via an adit, which is a straight and very gently sloping shaft cut into the hillside to allow for water to flow out. No specialist equipment or skills are required, although we were thankful for gaiters and helmets for low ceilings.
 

The first steps into the tunnel. How do you lose a boot here!?

 For the first few hundred feet the water was ankle deep and each time we looked back, the entrance appeared smaller and dimmer. To either side of the main tunnels were entrances into huge excavated chambers which are never touched by daylight. Eventually the main tunnel forked where the adit reaches the main part of the mine, and here there was more evidence of mining equipment; a set of tracks for mine carts, and various old axles and cogs.

An ancient axle looms out of the darkness

We followed the left fork. The entrance to the tunnel could now no longer be seen, and we were able to peer down into flooded lower levels. We passed by several collapsed chambers before our progress was halted at a point where the tunnel itself was completely caved in.

We retraced our steps and took the other fork instead. Not far along we reached a steeply sloping ramp which was piled with loose slate. This option looked unenticing enough without the ominous 'DANGER' daubed on the wall next to it in big yellow letters.

In case you needed it spelt out for you

 Instead we went through a narrow gap and found ourselves in the largest chamber we'd yet entered. We found ourselves on a narrow bank, next to a vast underground lake which filled most of the cavern. In the opposite wall across the lake was a doorway leading into another tunnel. However none of us fancied finding out how deep the lake was, or what might lurk in it, so we turned our backs on and headed back towards daylight and fresh air.

A boat might come in handy here!

Hint - For other would be explorers, the ramp was in fact the correct route to take to reach the exit! And according to this resource, a longer excursion is possible which includes crossing the lake in a boat! Note that more gear and skills appear to be necessary for this trip, so don't blame me when a member of your party gets themselves killed!

http://ukcaving.com/wiki/index.php/Croesor_Rhosydd_Through_Trip

Our return to the cars took us past various openings to other parts of the mine network, some horizontal and some vertical. Not a place to go blindly stumbling around in the dark. Plenty more to explore on some rainy day!