Climbing in Cwm Idwal - cold rock

Walking to Ogwen cottage on a frosty morning

North Wales, a weekend in mid-January. I was here with a group of people to celebrate Burns Night with haggis, poetry, and plenty of climbing. On saturday we headed to Ogwen. The mountains here are quickly accessed from the road - we would be able to get up high despite the limited daylight hours.  

We arrived at Ogwen Cottage early in the morning, ready for a day of climbing. Jason and Jamie were keen to climb ice, snow, and frozen turf, while Andy and myself were hoping for some dry, ice-free rock.

Cwm Idwal

Frost and ice covered the ground and there was snow in gullies and on the tops; the sun was shining, but there were scraps of mist in the hollows. We walked up to Cwm Idwal - a north facing bowl containing jagged rocks and steep cliffs that are great for climbing. The cwm is also a nature reserve where one can find some interesting plants, including Snowdonia Hawkweed, which is only found here. This appeals to my ecologist background, although winter is not the best time for finding plants.

Ordinary Route, Idwal Slabs

The Idwal slabs are huge sheets of rock, made of igneous rhyolite, on the Eastern side of Cwm Idwal. Upon reaching the slabs, Jamie and Jason left us to head further up the Cwm to Idwal Stream, which was frozen, while Andy and I got ready to climb. We had come to the slabs with the intention of climbing the Ordinary Route - a rock climbing line up a crack in the slabs. Although long, the climb is easy - this meant that we could do it in warm boots and gloves. It was very cold and unprotected hands and feet quickly went numb.

Pen yr Ole Wen and Cwm Idwal

The Ordinary Route divides into three long pitches. I climbed the first - 45 metre - pitch, following the crack until my ropes ran out. On reaching the belay, I turned, looking over Cwm Idwal to see the peak of Pen yr Ole Wen bathed in sunlight, and a tongue of cloud creeping up the valley from Bethesda.

Climber on Ordinary Route, Idwal Slabs

Andy led the second pitch. He is new to leading multi-pitch rock climbs, so he took plenty of time and care building his belay. The slabs were in the shade and I had been sitting at the first belay for some time before Andy was ready for me to follow him up. I was cold, the rock was cold, and my hands quickly went numb. It was not the nicest climbing.

Looking down the Idwal Slabs

I climbed past Andy at the top of pitch two, carrying on to lead the final pitch. As I warmed up from the exertion of climbing, feeling returned to my hands and I started to enjoy myself. It was a long, puzzling pitch; sheets of ice covered the best lines and rope drag was a problem towards the end. I reached the top, set up a belay, and Andy followed me up. I watched him climb with the backdrop of Cwm Idwal floor a hundred metres below.

Cwm Idwal as the cloud moves in

By now the sun had disappeared and cloud blanketed the valley. From the top of the climb we walked northwards to find an abseil point - the safest way down from the top of the Idwal Slabs. The route to the abseil point tracks Suicide Wall on the northern edge of the slabs. It is important to abseil from the correct place - attempt to abseil too near the top of the Idwal Slabs, and you could find yourself halfway down Suicide Wall; in this situation I guess the best escape option would be a miserable prussic ascent back up the rope - not something we wanted to try! We found the abseil point, descended, and followed a stream back to the base of the Idwal Slabs. With cloud coming in and the temperature dropping we decided to head back to Ogwen Cottage for tea, food, and to await the return of Jason and Jamie, then home to feast on haggis.

Sun on sunday - cycling around Otmoor

Looking across Otmoor

On sunday I headed out into the sunshine for a bike ride round Otmoor. I passed through Islip, Charlton-on-Otmoor and Fencott, before heading back to Oxford via Horton-cum-Studley. Although it was warm in the sun, there were patches of frost and snow where trees shaded the road. I really didn't want to slip and fall off - I recently broke my hand in a bike accident, an experience that has turned me into a rather timid cyclist.

Otmoor is a grassy, marshy plain - an old agricultural landscape, parts of which have been turned into a military rifle range and a bird reserve. The defining feature of Otmoor is its flatness - I looked around to see a landscape of horizontal lines stretching into the distance.

Winter sun

Dawn over Oxford

Dawn over Oxford in early January - on a bike bridge over the A40 dual carriageway, on the north side of the city. I cycle across the bridge most days on my journey to work. During midwinter, this is my best opportunity to experience daylight.

Chipping Norton in the mist

We met in the centre of Chipping Norton - a market town in North Oxfordshire that, looking east, is said to be the highest point until the Ural mountains in Russia.

We had no plans although we were keen to be outside after spending the week celebrating christmas with food, drink, and lots of television. The conditions, however, were not ideal for walking. Deep snow had covered much of the UK for the previous two weeks but the temperature had crept above freezing point and we were in the middle of a thaw; mist shrouded the landscape, and the ground was a mosaic of mud and slushy snow;  ten days after the shortest day, dusk would arrive early. We headed to the Old Mill Coffee House to plan our route.

Walkers in the mist and snow, Chipping Norton

Fortified with coffee and cake, and with a rough route in mind, we set off eastwards along a bridleway to Salford. Conditions underfoot were poor; a mixture of slush and mud meant one step back for every two steps forward.

Salford Church

Salford

A popular book when we were children was The Vanishing Village, a puzzle story about a village that is cursed and trapped in limbo, periodically appearing swathed in mist. The mist gave Salford an air of timelessness that was reinforced by a row of old petrol pumps; we had stumbled into the vanishing village!

Sheep blending into the snow

We headed southeast from Salford towards Cornwell, where we were greeted by a flock of lambs that appeared like small clouds budding off from the fog.

Snowy fields

We then turned north towards Adlestrop hill. The path took us past an old barrow and a tumulus. The hill itself was still covered in thick snow - combined with the exposed location, it had a bleak feel. At the hill we headed southeast towards the village of Adlestrop.

Adlestrop estate

Adlestop was deserted. We abandoned our plan to stop for lunch because the village shop was closed and there was no pub (let alone the pub we had been imagining for the last hour: comfortable chairs, warmed by a fire and a range of hot pies). We left Adlestrop, passing through a well cared-for estate with ornate lakes, bridges and a cricket pitch.

Walking along the snowy verge

Back on the road, we headed towards Daylesford. The steady flow of four-wheel drives confirmed that we were going in the right direction. Daylesford has an upmarket farm shop that brings in four-wheel drive using customers from miles around. We had high hopes that the farm shop would provide us with lunch (if our wallets could take it).

Daylesford sandwich ingredients, assembled.

The farm shop cafe was beyond our means, but we did get the ingredients for an impressive sandwich - a loaf of rye bread and some fennel salami - followed up by a chocolate brownie.

The Daylesford warning sign - helicopters!

We left the road to cross the Daylesford estate. It was good to get away from the four-wheel drive cars, but we had to watch out for vehicles from above.

Cows ready to be milked

We passed through the Daylesford estate and carried on through Top Farm, where it was milking time. The ladies were waiting patiently to go into the barn and be milked. The path took us back into Cornwell, and we then retraced our steps through Salford and back into Chipping Norton. It was getting dark, and it had been a long day made longer by the mud and snow, so we plodded the final mile into Chipping Norton, collapsed in the car and removed our muddy boots.