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 <strong>Climber</strong>s’ 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 <strong>2017</strong> www.climber.co.uk
www.climber.co.uk Sep–Oct <strong>2017</strong> 17