Tired ticks

Many different types of tick exist; the guidebook tick - featured in a guidebook (limited to selective guidebooks, where inclusion alone should indicate quality (or historical significance)). The guidebook photo tick - something which has a photo in the guide (applies to non selective guidebooks, and the ticker should apply his/her own quality control standards). The new crag tick - guidebook not necessary, a description and an intrepid nature are all that is required here, and finally, the Lyme disease tick which should be avoided at all costs. Sadly, the guidebook tick wasn't from Hard or Extreme rock or anything like that, it was from 'Cool Camping : Wales' - which I bought for her as a 'present' after she got 'Cool camping : England' from Helen.

This weekend I managed to achieve a new crag tick and a guidebook tick. There was nearly a guidebook photo tick too, but I was thwarted on that one at the final hurdle. Managing to climb at all was enough of an achievement given the weather. Saturday started with heavy rain which sporadically continued throughout the weekend, but fortune favors the brave and Ed Robinson and I set out anyway. Travelling at tea time on the Saturday night is a good time to go to Wales - the roads were quiet. Driving down the Ogwen valley in heavy rain, beneath black clouds, and unable to see any summits, things didnt look good but on arrival at Caseg Ffraith it had stopped and the rocks were actually dry. There's not a great deal to do here, and it does feel a bit like you are in someones back garden, but what there is is worthwhile and on amazing quality rock. Climbed until 2130 and sacked it to the pub.

I couldnt tell you the name of the pub, but its covered in Ivy and at the top of the Llanberis pass, just past Plas y brenin. Had a pint, marvelled at Whillans' signature and exited in a Bethesda direction for take out. It seems to my uneducated eye that many small towns in Wales have a problem with chavs, which I find quite strange. I guess if the mountains dont excite, the inhabitants dont think there's anything for them to do, so they get drunk and fight each other.

I have a very shit tent. It was £15 and has no inner layer. This means anything that touches the outside gets wet, which included my head. Add to the lack of suitable tent length the baaing of sheep at 0430, barking of the farm dog, someone snoring and midges and you do not have a good nights sleep. Raining again in the morning, and loads of bitey things, so breakfast in Pete's before coffee and shopping in V12 and then the cave.

Altogether a different feel to the day on the coast, much brighter but with it warmer and humid. Neither of us managed anything. With the best of intentions and feeling towards Mr Robinson it is at least good that neither one of us managed to perform. I dont think it was us, I think it was rubbish conditions - the grease index in the cave was high. After flaying ourselves for an hour or so we checked out the pill box, but i had soft red sore skin by then and didnt really try. We finished the weekend doing 'A string of pearls' which was chuffin terrificating. 6b+ involving rat crimps with hurty skin and feeling tired - great. We put a topper down the thing to the left, which was supposed to be 6c+. I think you must be supposed to take wires as the first bolt was half way up and whilst easy to get there, a slip would have resulted in certain death.

The M56 is now a car park. They're widening the road, but whilst work is underway, getting out of Wales is epic. 4hrs home. Rubbish. Otherwise, a good weekend rescued from bad weather. Great to hang out with Mr Robinson and build the bridges required to leverage his pending migration (!) but perhaps not the most fulfilling climbing weekend. Its all part of the game...