Ridges of Snowdonia. Steve Ashton
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Looking back down the ascent ridge of Route A3 towards Gerlan and the Menai Straits
Height gained on this gentle ridge, gradually accumulated over the preceding minutes without obvious effort, suddenly translates itself into the depth of a huge bowl which is confronted at a turn in the ridge. Far below, rising up from deep within the central well, is the Llech Ddu Spur, reflecting light from its crest like a gold comb. The cliff which supports it stands subdued at its base, dark against the mottled grass of the basin floor. At the far side of the cwm, partly hidden by the spur, are ranged the dismal tiers of Ysgolion Duon – the Black Ladders; while at the nearer curve are grouped dozens of smaller cliffs, few of them explored much beyond this and other simple surveys from the rim.
There is more to do now. A steep and curving ascent around the lip – easy at first but then more awkwardly over lichenous boulders – is slow to close the gap to Carnedd Dafydd. The bowl must be even bigger than it seemed.But eventually there comes the summit cone of stones, a sense of approach, and with that a promise of views towards the main peaks of the Glyders. But Dafydd is deep within the Carneddau: the views that way are disappointing. In recompense there is a retrospect of the ridge just climbed; dramatically lit in the slant rays of late afternoon, it appears as a gigantic tail laid out by a sunning lizard.
When circling the Black Ladders on this walk, thereis a tendency to keep tight to the edge; as if walkers, having earned the privilege over the preceding hours to do so,are now determined to exercise the right. In winter, sometimes, while sitting here with the rocks and a view of your ridge, ice climbers will appear from below to come and sit in the sun with you, their duvet jackets incongruous in the sudden warmth and light after the cold waits and sunless struggles below. Those passing by on gentler paths away from the edge are doubtless over from Pen yr Ole Wen and deserve none of this camaraderie.
Beyond all rocks – from Bwlch y Cyrfyw Drum – an easy glide would have you down in the Cwm Llafar bowl, just a few boulders and bogs away from the grassed-over cart-track down to Gerlan. But the enterprise is only half done: ahead lies Llewelyn, beckoning from a bed of stones. And when Llewelyn calls, you go.
So large and flat is the summit area that you need to head out a good way towards Yr Elen before being sure that it is indeed the way you must go. A bit like hoisting the mainsail to see which way the wind blows. But what an appealing peak Yr Elen is – and all the more attractive for being less trodden than its bigger neighbours. It is difficult to pin down the reason for its appeal, though perhaps it is a combination of many things: the slender neck of its connecting ridge; the tiny teardrop lake sunk deep in its shadowed cwm; the view north towards other, even more remote, western ridges. On reaching the actual summit there is also an undeniable sense of satisfaction that the circling of Cwm Llafar is complete, and that now it really is downhill all the way.
Not so simple. The first downhill section is a steep ridge of economically spread scree which demands more concentration than any other part of the walk; and especially now when legs are tired and apt to let themselves get carried away. But the ridge turns to grass soon enough, its gentle undulations peaking here and there in rock nipples. It is at the second of these that the presence of doom, previously only a nagging doubt, sinks home with all the certainty of a dropped egg: The Bog. The bog is all pervading, all consuming, and all across the bottom of the valley. It separates you and the Llafar track on the far side – a not inconsiderable distance.
Looking back towards Carnedd Dafydd during the ascent to Carnedd Llewelyn on Route A3
Near the summit of Yr Elen on Route A3
There is just one happy consequence: after the bog, negotiating the stream path down the culvert to the waterworks is child’s play. And so back to Gerlan with a grin on your face and a smelly black tidemark somewhere up above your knees. So now who’s the oddity?
VARIANT (A): CRIB LEM (LLECH DDU SPUR)
An interesting ridge scramble in a wonderfully remote setting.
Distance/Time:
No significant savings over the main route.
Terrain:
A gentle track approach to a rocky ridge.
Main Summer Difficulties:
Occasional steep scrambling sections on the ridge.
Winter Conditions:
Not recommended.
Special Problems:
Detailed route-finding on the flank of the spur.
The ridge above Llech Ddu taken by variant (a) as seen from the main ascent ridge of Route A3. The route then circles Cwm Llafar above the cliffs of Black Ladders seen in the background
Start:
As for the normal route.
Finish:
Summit of Carnedd Dafydd.
ROUTE DESCRIPTION
This is an exciting way to start the walk for those with some previous experience of scrambling. Technical difficulties are no greater than those encountered on Bristly Ridge; but there are the added problems of lichenous rock and loose holds. Detailed route-finding is also more difficult because the spur is climbed much less often.
Instead of breaking off right from the valley approach, continue along it as far as a group of huge boulders below the cliff of Llech Ddu (666638). The cliff bars direct entry to the spur, and so a way to avoid it must be found. In fact it can be flanked completely by ascending into the cwm to its right almost to the level of the base of the gully splitting Craig y Cwmglas Bach, at which point a ramp of grass and stones slanting diagonally left between bands of rock will be revealed. This leads without complication to a bilberry shoulder on the spur above Llech Ddu.
The spur itself, broad at first, soon narrows to give interesting scrambling over short obstacles and along grass arêtes. All too soon the crest falls back and merges into the barren summit dome.
B: THE GLYDERS
The Glyders are friendly. With or without cause, it would be hard to find a harsh word to say about them. But let’s be ruthless for a moment. The term Glyders is normally spoken with such generous implication, usually accompanied by a wide sweep of the arm, that a newcomer might wonder if the promise of ‘A day on the Glyders’ involves an enormous traverse across endless tracts of rugged mountainside. In fact ‘the Glyders’ is something rather less. Think of it this way: on the map, place a compass point on the A5, a little to the east of Ogwen Cottage, and describe a semi-circle with the radius set at Glyder Fawr summit (you can also do this ‘in the field’ by letting your eyes sweep the skyline – the result is much the same). That semi-circle is ‘the Glyders’. And yet if that small area is able to conjure up so mighty an image, then it must surely have something very special to offer.