Climber September/October 2017

uk classics
The Skull E4 6a
Diffwys Ddu (Cyrn Las) North Wales
A Welsh mountain classic by Keith Sharples
ROUTE LOCATION FIRST ASCENT
The Skull (E4 4a, 4b, 5c, 6a, 5c) Diffwys Ddu (Cyrn Las), North Wales M Boysen, A Williams, J Jordan 1966
with aid. FFA: R Evans, H Pasquill 1974
Paul Reeves leading the rightward hanging groove line
on the fifth pitch of The Skull (E4 4a, 4b, 5c, 6a, 5c) on
Cyrn Las, Llanberis Pass. Photo: Keith Sharples
Seen from the Ynys Ettws, The Climbers’ Club
hut in Llanberis Pass, Diffwys Ddu looms high
on the mountainside above Cwm Glas. Early
climbers, for reasons unknown, nicknamed the
crag Cyrn Las – a name which it has retained
ever since. Viewed through the murkiness of
inclement weather, Cyrn Las has a threatening
presence; an appearance that it fails to lose
even in bright early morning sunlight when
crags usually have a friendly persona. Paradoxically,
early morning sunlight gifts Cyrn Las an
even more ominous appearance as deep
shadows appear high on the headwall creating
what appear to be pair of deeply sunken eye
sockets. Seen through the furtive imagination
of someone about to climb The Skull, it’s easy
to imagine some monster peering out keeping
a check on those below.
Incredibly, it’s 51 years since Martin Boysen
did the first ascent of The Skull. According to the
guidebook he used six points of aid; this was
eliminated in 1974 by Ray Evans and Hank Pasquill.
Save for a passing mention in the final chapter,
Boysen barely even mentions his ascent of The
Skull in his own autobiography, Hanging On,
‘I loved our days on Dinas Mot, and climbing
The Skull on the overhanging prow of Cryn Las
with Jud Jordan’. Hardly a big sell for one of the best
mountain E4s in the country. But given Boysen’s
climbing CV which is rammed with diamonds from
the Alps to the Himalaya, perhaps we can forgive
him for glossing over The Skull. Boysen was equally
self-deprecating when David Jones asked him about
doing first ascents when he interviewed him for
The Power of Climbing, ‘I’ve tended to pick off the
odd first ascent here and there if it’s come fairly
easily…’ Well pick up a Welsh guidebook and
fact check that some time and you find Boysen’s
name crops up repeatedly around that era mixing
it up with the leading rock stars of the day. Make
no mistake, however, The Skull is a Welsh
diamond from one of the top climbers of his day.
A particularly hot spell of weather in late May
this year seemed the perfect opportunity to address
the wrong that I’d woefully allowed to gather
momentum; namely that I’d not climbed on Cyrn
Las, let alone done The Skull. This, despite having
both on my list of ‘must do’s’ since the early 80s.
Like refugees from a boiling cauldron, Paul and
I typically run away from the white heat of
Malham whenever it becomes too hot. Bent
on picking off classic mountain trad routes if
possible; we are nothing but Extreme Rock
whores. And that was exactly what presented the
biggest challenge of all, would The Skull be too
big a challenge for a pair of sport climbers – one
of whom (the writer) hadn’t placed a nut in anger
in two years. A simplistic solution – yet one
which we hoped had some merit – was that we’d
call into New Mills Tor on the drive over to The
Pass from Sheffield and get into the trad groove.
And that we did, successfully negotiating some
of New Mills’ finest before we headed off west.
It was hardly the ideal prep for a multi-pitch
mountain but that was our only option.
Cometh the morning, the sun duly shone,
it was truly glorious in The Pass. There was no
backing out now, but at least we couldn’t have
asked for better weather. For 45 minutes or so
walking in I imagined the Cyrn Las monster
keeping tabs on us as we approached. The
walk-in and easy approach scramble finally
completed we geared up beneath the crag. In
truth, the first two pitches were pretty scrappy,
they detracted rather than added to the route.
Taking an obvious shortcut we were soon on the
second stance and below all difficulties. By some
fluke I’d finished up with the lead of the first hard
pitch; a short but reputedly tough little crack. I’ve
always liked the security of climbing cracks, the
lure of decent gear proving overwhelmingly
irresistible. Strangely, I always seem to forget
that hard cracks are typically pumpy affairs, a fact
I was reminded of as soon as I got to grips with
it. A couple of good cams and a swift move or
two and the pitch was as good as over. The
climbing hadn’t been as exacting as I’d imagined
it might but that pitch has wreaked considerable
pain and grief in the past for one climber at least,
a large loose flake dislodged under his weight
and fell to the screes below taking the majority of
his fingers from one hand with it. I had been well
aware of this gruesome incident but hadn’t
appreciated until later that it was exactly 20 years
to that very day of our ascent that the accident
had happened. It’s a sobering reminder that rock
on mountain routes isn’t always to be trusted.
Meanwhile back at the belay, I had an
excellent view, rather too good, in fact, of the
fourth pitch. Hanging over the by now gathering
void, the way ahead took a hanging arête on
what appeared the very edge of nowhere.
Honestly, I was more than happy that it was
Paul’s lead. It was, just as Nick Bullock had said
to us earlier that morning in the car park, short
but pokey with hard-won gear and decent if
sharp holds. The yawning void beneath was
completely ignored by Paul – probably the best
approach in reality. Seconding it was a joy;
pulling on holds and ripping gear out as fast
as possible, and what exposure. And yes, the
loose-looking flake does take bodyweight.
The stance above was really quite resplendent,
a good flake, some excellent mid-sized cams and
an even better view of The Pass by now falling
away beneath us. Paul had his eye in by now and
was soon ensconced in the rightward hanging
groove line that was the meat of the fifth and final
pitch. His rapid and exuberant progress soon came
to an abrupt halt, however, progress thereafter
seemed slow – a classic two moves up and one
move back shuffle. How hard could it be I mused?
All too soon I got the perfect opportunity to find
out. Graham Hoey, a good friend, had tipped me
the nod that the final pitch involved wide bridging
so I rather smugly set off to show it who was the
boss. I can generally bridge as well as the next
climber but the crucial section of that top pitch
is more than bridging, not least because there’s
only two footholds in the entire length of the final
groove. Think 3D though and look behind you and
when in doubt squirm a lot as well. Fortunately,
for Paul it was well-protected; fortunately for me
I was seconding and my eyesight is now that bad
I couldn’t see the humongous drop beneath me.
Long story short, it’s a fantastic route, without
a doubt one of the great Welsh mountain classics.
I’m sure it would have felt easier had we been
more in the trad groove but in all honesty we
couldn’t tell the pitches apart – they all felt like
6a rather than the 5c, 6a, 5c that the guide has
historically given them. And if Nick Bullock
figures they’re all worth 6a, I for one won’t
disagree with him. n
16 Sep–Oct 2017 www.climber.co.uk