Mountain Leader Training 2015

Each year Bristol SU subsidises six UBESters to go on a mountain leadership course in Snowdonia. Despite my (very) last minute application to the course, I was lucky enough to gain a place to learn skills invaluable for anyone hoping to lead walks.

The day before the start of the course the six of us congregated at Gwen Gof Isaf, a campsite right in the shadow of Tryfan. On Sunday, we met our guides for the week- Paul and Rusty- some of the most experienced mountaineers I’ve ever met, who had a story to tell for any situation and an unbeatable knowledge of plants! We then headed out for a day of micro nav, a challenge that felt like we had to find the right blade of grass on the mountainside using only a map and a compass. I quickly learned that wearing hole-ridden, ancient boots was a bad idea when wading through bog…

Later in the week we learned to body belay and some basic emergency management, and paid a visit to the Llanberis mountain rescue base. The next day we put the skills into practice with an ascent of the east ridge of Y Garn, during which we were treated to spectacular fly pasts of RAF jets. We managed to keep ourselves entertained in the free evenings: highlights included an ill fated attempt to blend car and tarpaulin into a cooking shelter, and a forlorn ramble up (what turned out to be) a cliff, to try and find a cave Alasdair had spotted on the map.

The course culminated in an overnight trek to a beautiful lakeside, where we set up camp for the night. I tried to get a rest before the night nav exercise, but was reluctantly awoken by “Ben, camera!” The magnificent sunset over the mountains proved well worth getting out of bed for! To round off the week in true UBES fashion we headed to Canaervan in full hiking gear for a well-earned Spoons.

Ben Towers

If you're interested in taking part in ML training next year check out our website for more info.

Snowdonia 2

This weekend, forty of us set off for a wintry weekend in Snowdonia. In case anyone was wondering what we got up to, I thought I’d write a brief trip report! 

Going crazy on the Carneddau

On the Saturday, ten of us optimistically set off up the Miners’ track in search of a winter climb on the Trinity face of Snowdon. Despite the thaw the day before, we found Central Trinity in slightly slushy, but climbable condition.

One party soloed, and two parties roped up for the snow gully, which cuts straight up from Glaslyn to the top of Snowdon. It had a chockstone and a teeny bit of almost ice to give interest, and it was great to get the axes out. We were slightly bemused when we topped out to see crowds of people crawling up to the summit in trainers, and then sliding back down again.

An intrepid group of UBESters on the wintry Glyders

Other walks took on the Carneddau and the Glyders, finding plenty of wintry excitement and a fair bit of scrambling too. Tim lead one of his classic slogs, taking in twenty kilometers of epic Welsh hills, and returning late enough that people were talking about getting in touch with Mountain Rescue (It's okay; they were either joking, or had had a considerable amount to drink). 

We all returned ready for a nourishing dinner, however we were not aware that disaster was about to strike. A hole was discovered in the rice pan. The starchy water gushing onto the stove somehow managed to ignite, creating a small fire and a lot of excitement. After consuming copious quantities of delicious slop, cooked at last, the Saturday evening contained its usual dose of organised fun, a bonfire and a disco! 

One of the climbing officers gearing up for a very serious climb

On the second day, which was warmer, wetter and windier, several groups set off to take on some of the smaller peaks. A group of twenty took on Moel Siabod, some of us attempting to run it, to greater and lesser degrees of success. Other walks included a miniature 'three peaks', involving the all important driving aspect of the more grandiose UK wide challenge.

There were many lakes bagged this weekend, one of the more ‘heroic’ ones on the Sunday walk up Cnicht, was described by the bagger himself. “It was too shallow so I had to wade out into thigh deep mud, and the weather was like a moist apocalypse, but less exciting.” Sounds like great fun!I had a great weekend; I really hope everyone else did too.

A massive thank you to everyone who helped organise it, and I look forward to seeing everyone soon!

A postgrad officer looking like a pro!

Topping out on the summit of Snowdon

Climbing on up!

 
 

This year has seen the climbing scene within UBES undergo something of resurgence in both strength and depth. The year started with intro to climbing which saw a large number of UBES freshers make the journey down to the Avon Gorge and those with more experience to nearby Goblin Combe; see old blog post, These were quickly followed by gear nights at Dicks Climbing with record turn outs!……This is where the outdoor scene took something of a hiatus as poor weather severely affected the ability of individuals to gain experience climbing outdoors.  Whilst the rock was wet, all of the new UBESters were busy pulling on plastic indoors at Redpoint. This early dedication has undoubtedly aided the rapid progression of individuals in the Spring term.

In November last year we had a one day trip to the Peak District after the conditions in Snowdonia had led to a cancelled weekend. This weekend seemed to provide the opportunity for many new and old UBESters to experience their first lead whilst acting as a springboard for some serious climbing psych!
Since November lots of climbing has been done and in various forms, with a new winter route (Aquilo, II/III, St. Sunday Crag), ice climbing in Rjukan, sport climbing in some long lost Somerset quarries along with multiple trad outings.
In March we ran a trad climbing trip the Cornwall coastline where we visited Sennen and Bosigran. Despite initially damp conditions that made for some rather intimidating climbing the weekend saw a number of classic climbs ticked.

 
This year has undoubtedly seen it’s fair share of leader falls that range from slipping in the wet, sliding down slabs through to lobs onto No.1 nuts. A special mention must go to Laura Shaw for contributing more than most to these incidents.
Falls aside, this year has also seen witness to a large number of individuals climbing HS and above, with five people who have lead VS and three who have managed to break into the HVS range! The older members within the society have also managed to find time to escape work and regain their climbing prowess, whilst getting ‘classic rock’ ticks at the same time. I am sad to say that on a personal level I am still trying to achieve this.
So where does this leave us? Well, there is no doubt in my mind that UBES climbing is in a strong position and I am glad to say that this looks set to continue into at least the next few years. It is without doubt that the strength and depth of those who currently enjoy climbing within UBES combined with their continual psych that put climbing in such a healthy place within the society.
So what’s next? Well as the sun begins to warm the limestone of the gorge, I am sure that the climbing scene will only grow in strength before academic year is finished. Alongside this there are number of experienced and new members heading to the Swiss and French Alps in the hope of gaining experience and reaching a number of 4000m peaks at the same time.
Will

The Dragons Back: On two wheels.

Duncan looking out at the rain

So there we were, in our bivvies in a little stone built shelter beside a narrow gauge railway in the heart of Snowdonia. The morning chorus awakening the redwoods and maples of the arboretum and not being entirely drowned out by the fat drops of spring rain soaking the woodland floor. It wasn’t cold, far from it, but at just gone seven in the morning the rain was not a good omen. We had arrived in the dry late the previous evening, the result of an evening spent in a craft-beer house in Bath a few weeks previously.

Duncan had booked the trains to Bangor for the Friday afternoon. As we had battled the lack of space for our bicycles and sometimes for us on the four hour journey North through the Welsh Marches, we both knew that this weekend had a lot in store for us. We also knew that we were being fairly ambitious thinking that we could cover the entire length of Wales on the sleep we were likely to get in what would surely be rain-soaked bivvies on the journey.

Still on the Friday evening we had set off southwards from Bangor into the hills at about 6pm, giving us about 2 hours of daylight. We thought we might get dinner at the famous climbers inn at Pen y Gwyrd, and as we climbed the long almost alpine style col of the Llanberis pass the fading light fell on dry roads and lit up the lakes and slate tips at Dinorwig to perfection. The headwind was light and warm but we knew that the weather was set to deteriorate by the morning.

Duncan reaching the top of the Llanberis Pass

In Beddgelert

In light of this we pushed on to Beddgelert that evening before looking for food, sweeping down the winding mountain road through Plas Gwynant as the very last of the light drained from the sky, leaving occasional patches of weak blue light between soft clouds. The dinner stop turned into something of a pub-crawl since outside of the high tourist season the hostelries had stopped serving food by the time we arrived at quarter past eight in the evening. The proprietor of the Prince Llewellyn was persuaded to re-open his kitchens for his fourth and fifth customers that day and we ate extremely well before retrieving our bikes and heading South again into the night; down through the pass of Aberglaslyn and left over the narrow stone bridge on to the road that skirts the coastal plain to Garreg and from there up and over the hill to the tiny railway station that now provided us with shelter as we peered out into the morning rain.

The Shelter at Night

The weather abated somewhat as the clock approached nine in the morning and we took advantage, dragging our laden racing bikes back through the wood onto the road and winding through sodden, mossy green lanes and rain-lashed highways to Trawsfynydd. Still it was wet rather than cold and the humidity hung about the woods and hills in great low-lying clouds of mist, giving the little cottages and village streets the gloomy atmosphere captured so well by the great Kyffin Williams. As we huddled in the porch of the closed hostel at  Trawsfynydd, drinking coffee bought from the post office in a polystyrene cup, we contemplated the journey southwards. First it would carry us East over remote moorland, then South over the Berwyns via the notorious Bwlch y Groes, of which we should have to descend the steeper side. Then South through mile after mile of Cambrian mountains to, we hoped somewhere near to Builth Wells where we should make an overnight stop.

Once again we waited, perhaps too long, for a gap in the rain. The first little mountain road traversed very remote, open hills inland from the Rhinogs, themselves hardly overpopulated, winding its way up remote river valleys, over greasy cattle grids and finally up to a pass over the shoulder of Foel Boeth at 531m. The country here is as empty and distant from civilisation as any in the UK and for miles the little strip of tarmac was ours alone, with no junctions or buildings in sight. As we dropped out of the clouds to the south of the pass we came back into the country of hill farmers, a roller coaster little road, with a surprisingly good surface crossing boggy fields between gates and winding between dark slate walls and ramshackle buildings.

The Road Ahead

Another Platform Shelter

The river we were following led us down to the Southern end of Llyn Tegid where we tried to dry our soaking clothes in the poorly heated café on the terminus of the Bala lake Railway, one of the tiniest of the many tiny railways in the welsh hills. Another prolonged and shivering pause later we pushed on for the less steep side of the Bwlch y Groes, climbing steeply out of Llanuwchllyn and making the tight right turn on to the mountain road. At first the road winds gently up the side of the Afon Twrch, climbing all the while until after some miles it begins to climb more steeply up the precipitous hillside of Cwm Cynllwyd, seeming to cut across the crags and steep heather on a narrow ledge before swinging round to the left over the open moor to the summit at 545m. From here the descent (the side normally climbed) contains no fewer than eleven warning arrows on the ordnance map before turning a tight hairpin through a wood and winding through more farmland out to the main road at Dinas Mawddwy. I don’t remember much about the descent, save that it was very wet and the cloud seemed to sit low in the valley so we were never able to see far around us. We both found ourselves concentrating hard to control machines not intended for carrying luggage and on regaining terra firma, both bikes were streaked with black smears of wet brake-dust.

The Bwlch y Groes

From here another lower, but still atmospheric and rather beautiful little pass followed, on a very minor road linking across a watershed in farmland in Cwm Tafolog, which brought us along a daffodil-lined lane and under a sturdy, stone-arched railway bridge to Llanbrynmair and the B-road that would carry us South over mid-Wales.

The showers were more intermittent now and after leaving Llanbrynmair we were rolling along the undulating sides of a valley of deep green fields and farms on another daffodil lined road. In spite of being a more major road there were still very few cars as we began to climb once more into the hills. At first it was unclear which way the road would turn to escape the hills that seemed to hold it trapped on all sides as we approached the valley head, but escape it did, climbing ever higher on to the high ground East of Plynlimon, source of both the Wye and the Severn. Even on the high ground we were still not free of the relentless ascent, swooping down into a village or across a dam only to be confronted by the road rearing up again in front of us. This is big open country, with a similar feeling of remoteness to the Cheviot in Northumberland and is dotted with little hill farming communities. In the winter this place must be very bleak.

Reservoir on Plynlimon

The descent into Llandiloes once we had finally reached the end of the high ground was fast and open, and we took the opportunity to rehydrate in the Mount Inn, a chilly establishment, serviceable enough but somewhat tatty in keeping with the town it served. We were, however, finally beginning to dry out and after forcing ourselves to eat multiple packets of ready salted crisps we set out from Llandiloes knowing that we had but two hours of daylight left and unsure of what we would find at Rhyader and Builth – we did not want to be left to sleep out in the open with no food after this day for it probably would have finished us.

The top of the final climb of Saturday

Up out of Llandiloes we climbed and over yet another high moor, albeit a less undulating one, under skies that were trying to show us little patches of blue. The dafodils in the roadside now replaced with celandine, who in turn began to nod their heads and close up for the night. The temperature was dropping as Kites from the feeding scheme at Rhyader circled over the hills. It seemed like a long while before we at last stood on a hilltop gazing down at the interlocking spurs of the Wye valley South of Rhyader and knowing that after this last descent of the day we should be on level roads and racing the clock to Builth, knowing that having come this way we would be making it in time to find food and shelter and dried out at long last it was most uplifting to gaze over the wide open hills of mid-wales for the last time before descending to the river.

We proceeded though, not without trepidation, for the valley of the Wye seemed to recede into fog and gloom, indicating that yet more threatening weather was in store for us. We barely stopped in Rhyader, riding close together and fast down an almost empty A470 to Builth Wells. I took in very little of the thirteen indicated miles of increasingly wet A road, concentrating solely on not losing the tow from Duncan’s rear wheel, while at the same time wincing every time the road surface changed to harbour more standing water that would inevitably shower me – a small price to pay. We were both stiff and sore from the day’s riding and frequently standing to stretch backs, limbs and seats as we closed in on the tangible goal of reaching our desired overnight halt.

Warm in Builth Wells

In Builth, the hospitality of the Welsh did not fail us, we found two meals for £10 (each – 4 in total) at the Fountain Inn, live music and the barman pointed us to one of his regulars, the proprietor of the Cedars Guesthouse, a short walk away, for which we were very grateful as it was now pouring with rain again and we would have had a very sorry time trying to find any suitable place to sleep rough in a town the size of Builth – neither of us was in the mood to continue cycling that night.

On that Saturday we covered about 135km and over 2900m of ascent.

Sunday dawned rainy and grey, and after a good breakfast prepared for us by Vic, we re-packed all of our newly dried things on to the bikes and set off towards Hay on Wye and territory that almost felt like a home stomping ground. As we spun along the relatively level roads of the wye valley and began to loosen up, the weather also began to smile on us, at least for the time being and as we left Erwood following a refreshment stop, things seemed to be improving.

We approached Hay on the banks of a much broader river wye than the one we had followed out of the mountains the night before and the fields and spring leaves glowed in the sunshine before a deep charcoal grey sky. Once again there were daffodils by the roadside and we were looking forward to our final high pass of the trip, at 549m the Gospel Pass is the highest paved road in Wales and we had climbed it together in the past on the way back from a UBES Brecon Beacons trip. The road climbs between Hay Bluff and Lord Hereford’s Knob and then descends a beautiful valley all the way to Abergavenny, from where it was both misleading and satisfying to believe we were on the home stretch.

Roadside Daffodils

Approaching the Gospel Pass

However the mountains had one more trick in store for us. This might be on the border with Engand, but the pass was not prepared to suffer fools gladly and fools we were as we began to climb in glorious sunshine with a light breeze towards the hills.

Through the woods the breeze stiffened until forwards progress was tortuous and staying on the road required as much concentration as the climbing itself. Once out of the shelter of the trees and the cwm they lined, the upland moors unleashed on us driving hail and conditions as bad as any I’ve experienced in the beacons. Still we pushed on, cowering behind banks to add layers and breathing a sigh of relief every time a car passed without incident induced by a sudden gust of wind. We arrived at the summit soaked through once again and cold, and stayed that way for the whole of the streaming, muddy descent to Abergavenney, barely admiring the still-skeletal larch trees that overhung the road or noticing the D of E groups from Burnley that we stormed past in a single minded pursuit of warmth, dryness and sustenance.

Gospel Pass

We pushed through Abergavenny and followed another of Wale’s great rivers, the Usk, to the town that bears its name. Through rolling fields that could easily belong in the home counties and past the old windmill outlined in white against the green and yellow fields. Over the dramatic iron bridge and beneath still wintery trees on the steeper bank to roll into the centre of Usk in the middle of the afternoon for our first proper break since just after breakfast.

Between Usk and Chepstow there is one particular hill that we remembered from our last encounter with it about eighteen months ago. It is long and steep and climbs through a beautiful wood rather like a south downs beech hangar. It hurt us then and as it continued in steepness and savagery around every corner it hurt us now, but that did not seem to matter. We were going home, along the ridge that follows the Severn estuary between the outflows of the Usk and the Wye, with wide views down the Bristol Channel to Barry Island and across to the two Severn crossings, we knew as we traversed this that but for a race back across the levels on the English side of the river in the gathering darkness we had succeeded.

The Severn Estuary

So as we parted ways at the top of Parry’s Lane on the edge of Stoke Bishop it dawned on me that we had ridden home to Bristol from the furthest North West corner of mainland Wales through all the hills that I have loved to walk over for years (and many I’ve not yet ventured to) and for the introduction to those hills I can only thank UBES.

The Bridge

Home Again

Over the course of the weekend, we crossed three major passes at over 500m and climbed any number of smaller hills adding up to a total of 326km and roughly 5700m of ascent.

Write-up by Robert Wragge-Morley

Peaks (Walking)

On Friday 21st February, 27 of us headed up to North Lees Campsite for 24 hours of UBES fun. This was actually a contingency plan. We were originally going to Snowdonia but the avalanche risk and 100mph gusts meant that this was no longer (quite sensibly) on the agenda.

Camping was nowhere near as cold as the last time UBES visited (Nov '13 climbing trip), The lack of communication about eating utensils meant that a number of us enjoyed coco pops and rice snaps out of service station paper cups!

9 of us walked around the Kinder Scout Plateau (18.36km, 650m ascent, 6hrs) and the rest spent the day climbing at Burbage Edge just north of Hathersage. The visibility considering the forecast and awful weather expected was in the end very good with fantastic views of Manchester(!) and the dark, desolate bog that is Bleaklow. Memories of D of E 2010 were most certainly rejuvenated with Edale Rocks, Kinder Downfall basking spectacularly in the February sun. The waterfall at Kinder Downfall was actually being blowing back upstream, making picking a dry and sheltered lunch spot all the more difficult. This was the scene at the top of the plateau: peat bog!

Afterwards we all enjoyed a well deserved hot meal in The Little John Inn, The liver, bacon and Brownies were quite a treat! After a late departure (8.15!) we all returned in Bristol at around midnight (Anna drove the minibus all the way!). Just shows that you can have a successful 24hr UBES trip.

Snowdonia 1

October 2013 saw around 45 students travel to Tremadog in Snowdonia National Park for a weekend of windy, wet and cold UBES fun!

The first day was forecast to be very poor weather wise. Unbeknown to us, this was going to be the worst storm to hit Britain in years and actually one of the lowest pressures since records began was recorded that weekend.. Walks in the Carneddau, Glyders, south of Beddgelert, and along the Nantlle ridge took place with many groups having to link arms at the top of summits due to the adverse weather conditions. The day turned out to be fine in the earlier stages but by 4pm it was gushing from the heavens like never before, only a large bowl of UBES slop could brighten our spirits!

My group tackled the mighty Nantlle rigde, arguably the most scenic formation of Northern Snowdonia outside the 3 main mountain ranges; Snowdon, Glyders and the Carneddau. We made good progress up the very steep slog from Rhyd-ddu, and as the weather improved the further we traversed along the ridge, it became more likely that we'd complete the whole thing! Sure enough, but not without some moderate scrambling, veering off route slightly and some seriously speed gusts, we reached the sixth and final peak in good time.

The descent to the base of the valley was quite pleasant, with some off-piste slogging down steep slopes and across rivers proving to be wildly entertaining. This was, however, until we reached the quarry system just north east of Moel Hebog, where absolutely chucked it down. We were very glad that we descended the ridge when we did! After a few hundred metres of ascent, taking some time out (yes even in the terrible conditions!) to gaze in wonder and awe at a huge pit and caving system, and finally descending around Llyn-Y-Gader we ended up back at the vehicles, soaked to the bone.

The Bunkhouse that we stayed in is owned by Eric Jones - a prolific Welsh climber and mountaineer, and has a spacious but cold barn with a climbing wall. We enjoyed a lovely but somewhat quantity lacking slop dinner, cooked by our very own chefs Ben and Dom (along with everyone else who did the chopping and helped out. What followed turned out to be the strangest 'licking the pans and plates' session I've ever been involved in, not that I've witnessed any before I must add! I never thought that so many intelligent, grown men could go so mad over a scrap slop juice, a chick pea and thin pieces of Sainsbury’s basics bread'. Sadly, (or luckily) this wasn't caught on camera. The evening culminated in worryingly violent games of suspended sock wrestling!

We arose bleary-eyed the next morning to an even worse forecast: walking conditions up high were described as tortuous, meaning sadly no high summits! Nevertheless, my group had a fantastic day trudging around the southern area of the Snowdon massif in attempt to summit the legendary mountain's subsidiary peak; Yr Aran (747m), a feat that the whole team deservedly achieved. Setting off from Beddgelert, the earlier stages of the route were far from satisfactory due to route finding issues and at one point a Farmer having some strong words with us... After much wall hopping (many people renamed the walk the 'wall walk' for this reason) we found the main, broad ridge leading to the summit. It became windier but as we rose the people who'd been on the previous day's Nantlle ridge walk were blessed with beautiful views of the route. The steep drop from the first summit to Llyn-Nantlle-Uchaf actually looked quite daunting from this angle.

From the wind battered summit of Yr Aran we descended to the north towards Snowdon, then, once at the saddle, dropped down following the Watkin Path Back to the car park a few miles up the road from Beddgelert. It was pleasing to see that they'd almost finished the hydroelectric project dubbed 'Snowdon Hydro' (http://ntenvironmentalwork.net/snowdon-hydro/) as back in June the path was an absolute state in some sections to say the least.As night began falling, we just had enough time to bag Llyn Dinas. Around 15 people got fully submerged, fully naked in the lake, which must be some sort of record.

The weekend was bags of fun and we definitely did our best conquered the adverse conditions. A big thank you to everyone who helped out, all the group leaders chefs etc, and well done with all the fantastic walking!

Tim Lewis

Peaks 2 (Not quite Snowdonia)

The weekend of the 22nd Feb saw, due to adverse weather conditions, a merry band of UBESters
heading to not Snowdonia but to the dizzying heights of the Peak District. We were met with a
stunningly clear night of which its appreciation was short lived as we pitched our tents and slept for
the day ahead.

Saturday began with a cornflake breakfast out of paper cups and a short drive (for many) to the
Burbage North area where a fun filled climbing day ensued for all.

The group split into smaller four person teams
to maximise the volume of climbs done.
Climbing on gritstone involves lots of
standing on not very much and trusting the
sticky rubber on your shoes which can by a
daunting experience if not expected. For many it
was also an introduction into crack climbing – a
skill not required particularly in the Avon
Gorge but one which can be exceedingly
rewarding (despite being painful!)

As the sun started to set, we trudged back to the cars, removed our harnesses and set off for a well
earned pub dinner in Hathersage before the long drive home.
It was a good first experience of crack climbing and one, I am sure, many will wish to repeat.
Thom