Two weeks ago I joined the Southampton University Mountaineering Club (SUMC) on a whim, and volunteered myself to go rock climbing in "North Wales" for 3 days. I'd never been climbing before, but it was the most fun I've had since I arrived in Europe. The experience, ahem, ROCKED--I knew nothing about climbing, so I spent most of my time trusting people I didn't know to teach me things I didn't know using equipment I didn't know in a place I didn't know. And it was awesome.
Friday night I got into a car with Gideon (president of SUMC), Ed, and Jake (two other committee members) and set off for Wales. I was surprised how many people went--something like 35 active members went on the trip. It was so big because it was the club's "Dinner Meet," when they roll over this years committee to next year's. We arrived at our destination (after a short detour on a rocky road where a minibus got stuck and we had to push it) well after dark-- a really cool climbing cottage owned by the University of London Mountaineering Club. There were dozens of cots, a huge kitchen, showers nicer than the one in my flat here, and a cool library with maps and climbing books we promptly nicknamed the Captain's Lounge. We chatted, settled in, and went to bed around 3am.
Wakeup Saturday morning at 8:30, bright and early. BRIGHT! I had no idea the night before that the day would be crystal clear blue, and a perfect glacial valley would be outside the window. I bolted out of bed, ran outside, and saw Tryfan right out the door! Tryfan is a craggy, imposing peak of rhyolite with two big blocks at the summit named Adam and Eve; climbers can jump from Eve to Adam if they feel ballsy.
Picture of the ULMC cottage with Tryfan in the background:
Turns our we were smack in the middle of Snowdonia National Park. I had no idea--all I was told was "North Wales." The day turned out to be a bit chilly, with some sporadic cloud cover. After breakfast ("porridge") and packing a lunch ("pickle" sandwich with cheese and "tomAHtoes"), Jake told me a guy named Pete could teach me how to "Trad Climb." Turns out there are 2 types of climbing: sport, where protection is bolted into the rock and falls are relatively un-risky, allowing you to climb to your full physical capacity; and "trad" or free climbing, where you climb in pairs and the lead climber sets protection that the second climber removes. Trad climbs in the UK are rated on a scale created by crazy Victorian hill walkers. An "Easy" climb is a hill. Moderate, or "mod" might have some scrambling. Difficult, or "dif," is the easiest form of actual rock climbing. From there, there is Very Difficult (VDif), Severe (S), Very Severe (VS), Hard Severe (HS), Hard Very Severe (HVS), Extremely Severe (on an open scale: E1, E2, E2....). Climb lengths are limited by the length of a rope, so climbing a large cliff requires multiple "pitches."
My first climb was a multi-pitch route called "Rowan Route" on the West face of Tryfan, on a crag called Milestone Buttress. I would be climbing "second" as Pete lead the route. A German girl named Mo came up third. Rowan Route had 4 short pitches. The first was a straightforward "slab" (so much lingo! a slab leans in a bit), the second a messy scramble over wet rocks and bushes, the third a really fun and easy "chimney," and the fourth a shallow slab. We topped out, took a picture, and walked down the ridge to our stuff at the bottom for lunch.
Pete, me, and Mo at the top of Rowan Route:
After lunch, another climber named Jit had led a V-Dif called Direct Route just next Rowan Route. I climbed up afterwards on a "top-rope" like before. That meant if I fell, I could only go as far as the rope stretches. The leader could fall more than twice the distance he is above his last piece of protection, which are nuts or cams placed in cracks that catch you if you fall. I was intimidated by Direct Route, but felt really safe on top-rope and had a blast figuring out how to pull around a tricky move at the top of the first pitch. Because a few other people wanted to climb, we belayed down from the top of that pitch--a scary sensation (DID I MENTION I'M AFRAID OF HEIGHTS?!) to walk backwards off of a cliff.
We called the day a bit early (4pm) and went back to the cottage to shower and get ready for dinner. Dinner was very formal for Dinner Meet--everyone dressed up in suits/dresses, and we went to a hotel in the nearest town. Got to drink my first Ale, had some Scotch, and ate some roast lamb. Yum. Part of the tradition of Dinner Meet is to get the new president completely smashed--he passed out on the floor during our group picture, bumped into the door on the way out, and projectile vomited in the fancy entryway! Success!
We went back to the cottage for more celebration. The club has a drinking game called "Touch the Cup." I have to drink if I tell you any rules, other than that I can't tell you the rules, you have to figure them out and drink if you get it wrong. All I know is I spent a lot of time "touching Pete's bell head" and "stroking John's shaft" in a game sort of like quarters and Kings combined.
Everyone slept in a bit Sunday morning (9am!), and made an extravagant breakfast of eggs, toast, sausage, bacon, tomatoes, and mushrooms to cure our hangovers. I went with Tom and Chloe to a crag called Idwal Slabs, in a glacial cirque with a small tarn. Turns out, it was the North wall of the cirque, and the sun didn't hit it all day--which means it hasn't hit it all winter! The rock was like ice cubes, and we only made it up the first really, really easy pitch of a Dif called Ordinary Route before Tom, who was leading, hit ice, had to down-climb, and we bailed. Freezing, we climbed back into a minibus and started heading back to the cottage. Bummed about bailing on the route, and feeling like we wasted the morning, I mentioned I wanted to learn to lead a trad climb, and another guy, "Crazy Tom" offered to take me to a crag to teach me.
As the sun was setting, Crazy Tom took me to Tryfan Fach ("Little Tryfan") just a short walk from the cottage. I learned how to set an anchor (multiple points of "bomber" protection equally weighted to secure the lead climber to belay the second from above), how the protection works, and how to place it. While I led a really easy pitch, Tom free-solo'd next to me to show me how things work. Night fell quickly, and we had to scramble down an escape gulley in the dark with headlights. We walked back to the cottage, when most of the club was packing up to leave.
I decided to stay with one car who was leaving Monday night instead (class? what class?): Gid, Jake, Ed, and Ed's girlfriend Robyn. We went to bed early so we could get in a full day of climbing.
Monday morning we closed up the cottage and drove to Tremadog, a town on the coast. From the crag you could see almost see Snowdon (tallest mountain in England/Wales), and the sea! Yet another sunny, crystal-clear day--apparently unheard of in Wales.
I climbed second up an HS (whoa! it was a bit harder...) called Christmas Curry. The two-pitch route ended on an arete called Micah Finish--I had climbed up out of the trees, and felt like I was standing in thin air. That's when I decided I was hooked on climbing. At the top, we had to "abseil" (in the US: rappel) down backwards...scary, especially when we dropped over an overhand and I was dangling in mid-air by a 1/2" rope. I also had my first fall, when I slipped off the face trying to get to the Micah arete. Because I was on top-rope, I was able to get right back on the rock.
Me at the top of the first pitch of Christmas Curry, with the route marked in red:
On the way home, we got free KFC when the rest stop was closing, and I left completely psyched about climbing. Last Tuesday I went and bought climbing shoes and a chalk bag (I had borrowed Jake's before), and I've gone to the bouldering room in the Student Union to learn more technique and get stronger. I created a logbook on the UK Climber's website to keep track of my progress. And I can't wait for the next trip, to go sea-cliff climbing in Cornwall!
The trip was awesome, made even better by a group of people who went out of their way to teach me the ropes and push me to really get into climbing. It was also really cool to learn to climb in a place with as much tradition for trad climbing as Snowdownia (I think Tremadog is a world-famous crag).
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