The north ridge of Tryfan
I am 70. I reached my 70th birthday on July 18,
2023, so I am a little late with this blog. Being 70 is weird. I have started
to have a few mobility issues, mainly being less flexible (nothing serious) but
I don’t feel any different in my head than I did 50 years ago. Then I look in
the mirror and see the grey hair and flabby neck skin …
Being 70 in 2023 is quite different to what it was when my
grandparent reached that age. I don’t remember any celebration for grandad or
grandma when they hit 70, but I do remember my Sunday School teach Miss
Pickering hitting 70. She was a very small woman, quite bent, used a walking
stick with a big rubber bung on the end and she always wore black (ever since
her fiancé had been killed in the First World War).
She came to Sunday School and told us there was some
important news. She had reached the age of 70, the age decreed in the Bible
that was the lifespan of man. I think she saw it as an endorsement from God
that she’d done her bit. Miss Pickering wasn’t a lot of fun (we didn’t have birthday
cakes), she was serious, pious, wrinkly and I’d always thought she looked
ancient. I guess she was a good person in a Victorian sort of way.
Things are a little different these days. Miss Pickering
would have the appearance of a 90-something. I was looking for something to
mark my 70th and I’d been chatting with Max about a year before, who
thought we could do a section of the Cuillin Ridge on Skye and climb the Inaccessible
Pinnacle (the famous In Pin). Max said it was a fairly easy climb with a bit of
exposure, but he’d get me up there and I said yes.
Taking a breather. Windy but no rain - yet!
By the time my birthday appeared on the horizon, we’d done
nothing about it and Max now has a busy job making sure Dunelm meets its
environmental obligations. We agreed the Cuillin Ridge was a bridge too far and
he suggested instead that we climb Tryfan, a mountain in Snowdonia which has a famous
grade 1 scramble up its north ridge. Max and I had set off to do it some years
back, but I’d chickened out of the last section, unsure of the way and
uncomfortable with my vertigo.
It was unfinished business – often best left unfinished when
it comes to mountains!
Anyway, I agreed, so we set off the night before to stay at Tyn-y-Coed
just beyond Betws-y-Coed on the A5. Max’s friend Will Garton had asked to come
along and I was happy with that. Will, Max and I had done a weekend in the Lake
District some years back and had climbed Sharp Edge on Blencathra.
We had a meal in the hotel (Will had set up his camper van
in the car park) and the weather forecast hadn’t looked too good for the next
day – rain and win. We discussed a less-testing and lower alternative and
agreed to wait until morning.
After breakfast, it looked quite good, so we went with plan
A and drove to the layby on the A5 at the foot of Tryfan. This is one of those
mountains where there’s no long walk in – you park up and start climbing the
north ridge. I’m not as fit as I was, but with a few rest stops on the way up,
I thought I was doing all right.
The wind and rain did arrive and I found my waterproof pants
flapping in the breeze a bit (I’ll have to get a new pair) but we kept going to
the place where I’d turned back last time. Today, the weather was much worse,
but there was no question of going down. The north ridge is a steep climb from
the start, but near the top it’s a proper climb/scramble and definitely don’t
look down if you lack a head for heights.
Will, Max and I at the summit
Max and Will had done it before (several times) so knew
where they were going and guided me pretty well. If I’d been on my own, or not
known the route, I would have bailed. At the summit, there are two vertical
rocks, nicknamed Adam and Eve, and the challenge is to stand on one and jump to
the other. With wind and rain sheeting across, there was no way we were going
to attempt such heroics. We took a few photos, a windy video and headed down.
Our route was to follow the south ridge for a spell and then “escaping” off the
east face and circling back north to pick up a track back to the road. I found
the descent much, much harder. Rocks were slippery, my left knee wouldn’t take
any weight and my right was wobbly. It took a lot longer than I’d anticipated
and I can’t say I enjoyed that section. It seemed to take ages before the
gradient eased and the rocks became fewer. I have to say that the last half
mile back to the car seemed like walking on air!
I did feel pretty chuffed with myself and pleased to have
shared the experience with Max and Will. They would have been up and down in a
third of the time, but they proved expert wayfinders and patient companions.
They wondered if this would be my last mountain. It might be and, if it was,
then I’d be pretty happy to go out on a high; although I might have another one
in me before the end!
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| Trace of our route up and down. |
