Brimham Rocks: Bouldering

Brimham Rocks are a collection of boulders and crags near Harrogate in North Yorkshire. The rocks, made of gritstone, have been sculpted by erosion into unusual shapes including rounded towers, loaf shapes, and rocks are balanced in surprising locations.

The grippy nature of the rock, and the shapes it is formed into, make Brimham Rocks a great place to go climbing and bouldering. There are climbing routes up to about 14 metres long across the grades, and a similar range of bouldering problems scattered across the formations. Jamming cracks seem to be a common feature here.

The second weekend of January was blessed with sunny, still conditions - a perfect opportunity to make my first visit to Brimham and try and work off the excesses of christmas.

Sculpted shapes: around Castle Rock at Brimham Rocks

We started by doing some boulder problems and routes on Castle Rock, the most impressive large rock formation at Brimham. Despite the frosty conditions the rock faces in the sun were warm to the touch, making climbing pleasant. Lots of walkers stopped to watch as we soloed some of the easier routes, although some of the parents with young children were not impressed by the example we were setting.

Cubic Block, Brimham

We then tested out a few boulder problems in the Cubic Block area of Brimham. The problem in the photo above goes from a lying down start, at full stretch, into big pull up the arete to the break at the top of the photo. The big pull defeated Neil and I despite repeated attempts. One for next time!

Heather Wall, Brimham

As the sun dropped towards the horizon, the temperature fell rapidly. We kept moving to keep warm, accomplished by soloing some easy routes on Cubic Wall. In the photo above Neil is climbing Heather Wall (severe).

Cubic Corner, Brimham

Neil climbing Cubic Corner (Hard Severe 4b). The route follows the arete on Cubic Block and had a tricky move at about 2/3rds height that gave a touch of excitement to my solo attempt. When the rock became to cold to climb we called it a day. A great start to 2012!

Winter climbing on Brown Cove Crags

Last weekend, to take advantage of a week of cold, snowy weather across Northern Britain which had brought the Lake District into condition for winter climbing, I visited Brown Cove Crags with two friends.

Brown Cove Crags are on the North Eastern side of Helvellyn. The crags are high up but with uncommitting routes, and are just a short walk from the car park: the perfect venue for a short mid-winter day.

Brown Cove Crags from below

As we walked up, the crags emerged from the cloud. There was already a handful of climbers on the routes.We chose to try the most Northerly route on the crags: Two Grooves. At grade IV (6) we hoped that it would be quieter than the easier routes further along the crags. The route divides into two pitches, each with a groove to climb up.

Looking North from Brown Cove Crags

By the time we reached the start of the route the cloud had cleared. The clear air meant that there were extensive views across the Lake District, free from the haze that is often present on cloudless summer days.

Climber moving onto the crux of Two Grooves, Brown Cove Crags

The groove on the first pitch was covered with a deep layer of powder snow and the turf underneath was not yet frozen. The left face of the groove was iced up however, and using this ice and rock on the righthand side of the groove we were able to climb the pitch, only resorting to snow wading for last few metres.

There were a couple of climbers on the technical second pitch, so we did the obligatory jumping up-and-down to keep warm while we waited for them to finish.

Dave seconding Two Grooves - about to enter the crux groove

Neil led the second pitch, calmly making some tricky moves. Dave followed him up, and I followed close behind Dave, removing some of the pegs and gear that Neil had placed to protect himself. The difficulties began on entering the rocky groove, where I had to hook my tools on rock and find small foot placements to climb. Towards the top there was a featureless slab with a crack on one side that you could jam tools into. A couple of big pulls, hoping feet wouldn't slip, and I joined Neil and Dave at the top of the route.

The snow slope at the start of the second pitch was well consolidated, making for easy, satisfying climbing. Progress up the groove involved a series of rock hooks and bridging/backfooting. The rock faces and the cracks were iced up, rendering cams useless, and ice tools and crampons were essential for climbing.

Brown Cove Crags from the top of Two Grooves

From the top of Two Grooves, we could see that the rest of Brown Cove Crags was swarming with climbers - lots of people were making the most of the great conditions!

Sunset over the Lake District

To finish the day we walked from the top of Brown Cove Crags to Helvellyn, reaching the summit just as the sun was setting.There were large cornices on the Red Tarn face that would make the climbing routes up there more difficult, perhaps requiring some tunnelling at the top of the route, and also more dangerous, due to the possibility of avalanches.

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.

Alpine Wales: Moel Siabod towards Daear Ddu

We set off just after dawn with the intention of climbing Moel Siabod via Daear Ddu - a grade I winter route described in Dan Bailey’s The Ridges of England Wales and Ireland. Moel Siabod is the highest peak in the Moelwyns (at 872 metres) and Daear Ddu is its rocky southeast ridge. The mountain lies southwest of Capel Curig, and lends itself to a circular route, starting and finishing at the Pinnacle Cafe in the village.

Snow covered Capel Curig, but the roads were clear. We walked up the A5 from Pinnacle Cafe towards Betws-y-Coed until we reached a bridge crossing the river, we then followed a path across the bridge and into the woods on the northeastern slopes of Moel Siabod.

The Snowdon peaks rose to the west; heavy snowfall blanketed the range and the mountains glowed in the morning sun.

Snow weighed down branches and lay deep upon the ground. We were warmed by the exertion of breaking a trail through the deep powder, and by the sun rising over the hills.

We left the woods and started to climb a farm track that leads to Moel Siabod. This was our first good look at the peak, although the rocky Daear Ddu ridge was still hidden. The sun shone and the air was still, but sheep that had been left out in the fields huddled together for warmth.

We passed three lakes that were frozen and covered in snow. Above the first lake we attempted to practice ice axe arrests, but the deep powder snow stopped slides more effectively than an ice axe. The second lake was a quarry pit surrounded by icicle-clad cliffs. There were loud cracks as icicles, warmed by the sun, fell into the lake. The third lake, Llyn-y-Foel, was in a cwm beneath the rocky south face of Moel Siabod. Trails on the slopes above Llyn-y-Foel marked the paths of small avalanches.

We crossed the cwm to the base of Daear Ddu where we would start the final push to the summit. The effort of moving through deep snow was taking its toll.

At the base of Daear Ddu we stopped to drink coffee. We sat in a hastily excavated snow seat, faces to the sun, and our backs resting against a crag.

Visibility was perfect - the view from our makeshift seat stretched southwards across the landscape. Finally we put our ice axes to good use - the small crag we had sat against was ideal for ice climbing practice! By the time we finished our coffee an easterly wind had picked up and we felt the effects in our legs of three hours ploughing through deep powder. We put on our ski goggles, turned to face the wind, and retraced our steps back to Capel Curig. Daear Ddu would have to wait until next time.