Martin sets off on the first pitch.
The plain facts are these; On Saturday 13th July
2013 Al Hughes and I arrived at Cwm Silyn with the sole intention of an ascent
on Craig Fawr. Our objective a one hundred and eighty two metre, very
difficult, Engineers Climb put up on 10th April 1925. Earlier that
day the leader, E Dawes had led Herbert Carr and W McNaught on Overhanging Chimneys, a 100 metre severe at nearby Trwyn y Craig, subsequently held in high
regard. Carr described it in his 1926 “A Climbers’ Guide to Snowden and the
Beddegelert District” as...“A clean climb of great character and variety.
Rubbers and 60ft of rope for the
leader.”
The description further waxes lyrical for a page or so yet
the much longer “Engineers” is disposed of in one paragraph, hardly inviting to
prospective ascentionists. In more recent guidebooks however, we see that
Engineers is heralded as a “good long climb” with a somewhat fuller description
tempting those with an unusual interest towards rediscovery. That we would not make
this ascent in the way prescribed was not due to any lack of information or
disrespect for the original but more a curiosity to explore the prescient tasks
set out before us like a gauntlet in stone.
Resting on open ground between the twin lakes it is possible
to discern a boomerang arc shaping Silyns Cwm from Craig yr Ogof up and round
tortuous scree slopes becoming lost in Clogwyn-y-Cysgod’s madness opposite the
grey stoned great slab. It was here that George Mallory and Ralph Todhunter came
in September 1911. Perhaps mesmerised by fruitful reconnaissance they chose not
to attempt the slab preferring instead Y Cysgod’s brooding cliff of the shade
and its four pitch gully to open climbing’s account. Awaiting us to the left, a
thinner but equally tortuous ribbon of scree bordered by heather, concealing
ankle snapping chasms, led towards unpeopled Craig Fawr whose high towered
summit sentinelled the Nantlle Ridge.
Suffering in an unusual heat it was with great relief that
we flung ourselves towards a goat cadavered gully before traversing some gross
mosses under the shaded arm provided by the first easy rib. In twenty metres
this rib landed us on a kind of bowling green half in shade, half out, whose
inner kerb edged a steep walled groove with a perfectly solid belay pinnacle
below. Slim at first this feature gradually deepened occasioning some stemming before
side jugs allowed a jink left handily circumventing some suspect flakes. Having elected to attempt this directissima
now meant abandoning claims on our original concept and accepting grade
increase which now reached the lofty height of ‘very severe,
rubbers’. Finishing the groove by easier rock it came as a delight to find
sound belays below a clean white slab whose summer inclined friction favoured
ascent. It must be said, however, that rock reading from below does not always
guarantee forgone conclusion and in a far less credible episode earlier in the
week I had found myself barely five metres above the ground resorting to
Yosemite aid tactics in a shallow scooped crack that, although positioned high
above Machlyn Mawr, hardly counted as a mountaineering expedition and indeed
had falsely represented itself when viewed from the deck as no more than HVS.
Confirming these
suspicions George Smith eventually completed the route at E2 6A. Then, as if to
compound such experience, roughly the same thing happened on a crag further up
the same hillside though at the point of realisation George was at least high
enough to contemplate leaving a national flag attached to our lower off sling
since neither of us could force a successful outcome. Furthermore, in order to
incinerate several midge squadrons a fire started with sphagnum moss and it
must be admitted, an uneco-worthy crisp carton, billowed smoke up the entire
height of our intended route further limiting visibility and threatening
asphyxiation.
Here on Craig Fawr under pleasanter conditions the slab more
or less behaved as predicted before leading to a left slanting shallow crack
where delicate footwork made possible stepping into a niche with perfect friend
placement in its steepening right reveal. Al had commented that the moves
looked “reasonably athletic for a middle aged man” And whilst this was so,
nothing more than 4C, required serious
attention so that I was able to gaze out rightwards admiring the silhouettes
climbing Craig yr Ogof’s final nose before moving up to a gargantuan block
belay nesting in a bay. Below us Trwyn y
Craig blanketed in maroon heather stretched down its flanks towards plateaued
marshland resplendent with micro lake which George and I had traversed earlier
in the year after climbing the somewhat remote Crack at the End of the World in
swirling cloud.
Al Hughes approaches the finish
The obstacle now confronting our undertaking came in the
form of a chock stoned wide crack whose chaffing sides offered a way between its
aperture that might have been wise to neglect. Landing above it on a wide ledge
a vertical smooth corner with an obvious foothold above head height on its
right wall and an amenable gear crack, posed the next problem. Getting established on said foothold now
focused concentration and subsequently became known as the ‘ruper step’ since
it displayed difficulties at least as great as those encountered on some stair
cased slate paving slabs leading to the back door of a house in Tregarth which
under winter conditions had occasioned the scene of several failures by those
under the influence of alcohol (Rupers) unwittingly approaching the premises
after dark. In sober reckoning terms the corner proved around 5a and though it could,
if necessary, be circumnavigated round to the right at a much easier standard,
few suitors would wish to escape its charms.
Thus after laybacking onto the crucial foothold solid hand
jambs allow reach to an unhelpful pod which is in turn exchanged for a grooved finale
onto rough sloping rock at an angle of ease. Having progressed so far as to be
comfortably seated below the final tower we saw that its square front face
overhung showing a dramatic contrast between its intermittent leaning striations
and less alarmingly steep rock running up ten metres or so towards a shadowed
cleavage where both gradations met. Fearing any wind pipe gripping suspense
that might ensue from attempts at surmounting the overhanging face we clung decisively
to its right arête where grooved slabs and walls offered escape out on to an exposed
veranda a top the nose.
Sun shafts burst a passing cloud so that over a hundred
metres below boulders and moor land within grasp of the lake’s gently
shimmering waters, were caught glowing a different hue. Far enough out from Yr
Ogof, framed under Y Cysgod’s furrowed rim a peregrine’s wing showed rufus
turning in dive and was gone. In a further thirty metres castellated ridge gave
way to scrambling then Craig Fawr’s summit behind which, loping down the naked
ridge we met Tony Loxton and splayed out to drink.
Such are the vagaries and fickle nature of mountain weather
that after last year’s consistent deluge forecasters claimed torrential rain
would again dominate our summertime. That this had not proved so came as a
surprise. Perhaps a blip in the malfunctioning atmosphere caused it but,
whatever the reason, we now basked on castellated rocks like legionnaires
halted at the ruins of a dessert fortress before retreating in the grip of a
heat wave that had started four weeks previously.
Descending Cysgod’s long arm with the crag of the hollow of
the black lake basking in silence to our left we stopped at a vantage point
taking in Yr Ogof’s great slab now curiously hazed in infra red glow. We recall
that Noel Odell, the last man to see his friends George Mallory and Sandy
Irvine alive on Everest, numbered the first ascent party doing Ordinary Route
in 1926 and that John Menlove Edwards, one of the great tragic figures of welsh
climbing, found the majestic Outside Edge in 1931. Remembering some lines from
Andre Mignot in Tibetan Marches ‘to neglect one’s own or one’s dependants
interests is not a mark of discernment’
So downwards we went under evenings spell, between the long
hills and the tall sky, our figures set out in silhouette, hearing the call
from secret radongs and keeping time on the stony path we quickened the pace,
dreaming of ale.
An account of the first ascent of Engineers Eliminate: 180
metres, Very Severe- Craig Fawr, Cwm
Silyn. N Wales.First ascent Martin Crook, Al Hughes. 13/7/2013
