Its whats inbetween that counts.

Unexplored coasts full of potential.

I went to Mid Wales during my Easter break, visiting friends amongst the vivid green Cambrian corrugations that make this part of the world so special. The seaside town of Aberystwyth stands as a halfway point on my own personal timeline - looking South to my past and North to my present; as such it occupies a unique place in my personal geography.  Usually a trip to this part of the world would lead to a coastal adventure at Clarach and Borth (read about previous trips here, here, here and here) or alternatively in Barmouth or Cae Du, however on this occasion time and tide were against me.  The alternative was clear and I looked South and to the past for adventure, focussing on the county that I called home for the first 19 years of my life.  I headed back to Newport in North Pembrokeshire, to Mynidd Dinas and             the developed dolerite crags that crown the northern flanks of the Preseli hills.

The A487 coastal road draws you south from Aberystwyth to Newport; a tarmac trail that hugs the edge of civilised cultivation before it drops into the wild surf below.  Vistas of sea and cliff rob you of your conscious self, testing your powers as the mind drifts and the smell of brine hangs heavy in the air.  Villages which have fed the Welsh diaspora, depopulated by the Pied Piper of progress and urban dreams, tick by; acting as a yardstick on a journey so stunning that you lament its end.  Every mile reveals another ripple in the rocky coastline: beaches, coves and cliffs tempt you to stop to see what potential might lie there.  However time is a cruel mistress, When it is short you will always drive on to established venues, developed, described by a book leading to you to an experience that deftly fits into the few hours you have; leading you to ignore what lies in between.

Some of the unclimbed Rhyolite that exists above Newport 

Newport features highly as one of the main bouldering areas of Pembrokeshire in the new Pembrokeshire Climbers club guide (Volume 1 Pembroke North).  Above the town there are rhyolite crags such as Carn Foi and Carn Cwn, developed to an extent but with lots of potential for further lines.  Although looking at the guide, I found myself climbing the lines that existed in-between those reported, in-between the brush marks, in-between the established. And my thoughts returned to the drive: to the coast, to what may exist undiscovered and untouched in-between the pages; existing in the unwritten, in-between land and sea.  To the South of Newport the Dolerite crags of Mynidd Dinas can be seen clearly from the road.  Carn Enoch, Carn Sefill and Garn Fawr are well-known to the attentive boulderer.  Not only do they grace the pages of the Pembrokeshire Guide, they also play a cameo in Boulder Britain.  In this corner of Pembrokeshire chalk adorns rock, decorating the paths of previous ascentionists and giving a clue to the sequence that may unlock a problem.  These crags are by no means fully climbed out, but strong lines draw the eye and the question of what may lay in-between is lost in the industry of the send and intricacies of the line.  The view from these high crags on a sunny day can distract even during the focus of a send.  The coastline ripples and reticulates lazily and seemingly infinitely both North and South. A glance at the guide suggests there is nothing there, no sport, no fun; and yet you must question what lies in-between.

A strong line at Garn Fawr

Over the early summer I spent a lot of time on the LLyn, following my namesake Mr Heyward as he developed his way around the peninsula.  Porth Ysgo and Trwyn Talfarach are established locations on the British Boulderer's map nowadays giving all the rasping experience that only seaside gabbro can provide.  However Owen delved a bit deeper and unearthed unanticipated quality. Porth Nefoedd had been reworked the previous winter and new blocks had materialised further along the beach; where climbers had assumed there were none.  The Hell’s Mouth block drips with quality, wave-washed dolerite that begs to be climbed.  The walk in and the location gives you a real feel that you are 'there' -  bouldering at the edge of the map, immersed in nature, unhindered by the complications of the human world.  Individuals like Owen don’t wonder about what lies in-between, they seek out the gaps in the map: they find what's there and they fill in the gaps, increasing the size of our shared bouldering world in a time when technology seems to be making the actual world smaller as every day passes.

Late July and the commencement of high summer saw me travel back down the A487, back to Newport but on this occasion with time to explore.  I passed Aberystwyth, the centreline of my life, with its developed wave-washed shale and drove on to the in-between; where the bouldering map is incomplete and gaps exist.  As I passed Llanrhysud, Abeaeron, New Quey, Llangranog and Cardigan I thought of the way the Llyn has been developed recently and looked at this coast and the coast of North Pembrokshire with a new zeal. The bouldering map down here isn’t even a pencil line on the back of an envelope, the areas in-between undiscovered: stretches along the coastal fringe from Clarach to Newgale and then on round to the industrial bays of the Cleddau all waiting for someone to explore them, to tame them and bring them into the fold. So I explored when I was down there.  Not too far from an established bouldering venue I found a little bit of class amongst the sandstones and shales: a wall fifty feet in length, twenty feet high at its highest point, overhanging by twenty degrees and covered by enough holds to make this find a challenge (there will be more about this venue another time).  Another piece of the map had fallen into place, pushing the bouldering horizon that little bit further out for others to discover.


Doug Kerr on the boulder problem Chop which exists in the space at the edge of the bouldering map

A guide is being written at the moment that will take in some of the areas that, at present, exist in-between the known and unknown.  A dedicated group of locals are out there scouring the bays for potential, but why leave the immense task of rewriting the bouldering map to the few? We are the many and the task is large. Instead of spending yet another bank holiday weekend abseiling into an overly used coastal limestone crag in South Pembrokeshire, why not quest north with a brush and a pad? It’s amazing what you can find on that wild, deserted North Pembrokeshire / Ceridigion coastline. Be a map-maker - be creative and anchor your own personal geography to a little piece of coastline that will inspire others.

Oh I do Like to be Beside the Seaside!

New game! Best venue?

The Sun has appeared.  When I first spotted it emerging from its long slumber behind vast volumes of vapour fear enveloped me and I stood motionless, staring at the sky.  Was this strange burning ball of gas a sign of the oncoming apocalypse?  Could this really be the end of everything? No, it was stranger than that; winter, it appeared, was over and the warmth produced by this heavenly body precipitated a metamorphosis amongst the people: clothes were shed, smiles spread and faces were framed by dark glasses. This sudden change in fortunes has also lead to a change of heart in my answers in the game of Bests! (See my post - "Lists and That" if you're not sure what the game of Bests is)

Best venue? Anywhere coastal when the sun shines.

Ice Cream and Caravans at Clarach - my favourite!

The seaside - a playground for the young: sandcastles, rockpools, 99's with strawberry sauce, paddling, proms and piers. Faded Victoriana rippled with amusement arcades, shops filled with 'Kiss Me Quick' hats and postcards that make grandad laugh like a donkey. Babies wear ice-cream beards of vanilla, chocolate and strawberry; seagulls swoop - stealing your chips, and the salty smell of the sea hangs heavy in the air.  I must admit, when the sun shines there's nowhere I would rather be.
From a Bouldering perspective the coast really makes sense when the temperature tip-toes above the magic twenty degrees celsius mark. Whilst ryolite, dolerite and grit sat in bogs sweat in the sun-shrouded by midges, sea breezes and evaporating tides conspire to cool things down on the coast.  Shady cliff lines and deep sea-caves mean that even on the hottest day there will be something worth working on. I ask you- what could be more statisfying than a cool ice cream when resting, or some post-climb fish and chips? Climbing on the coast in the summer is more than the sum of its problems, it's the whole holiday vibe that makes it the Best.

I revisited Borth and Clarach in Mid Wales during my half term holiday and immersed myself in the special deep-fried world that exists on the coast! I rewalked the sinuous path between land and sea and returned to the places where monster lines of the future live. Again, I didn't try to tame the beasts, just became more certain that someone more capable than myself will bring these Titans to life.  Instead, I wandered through shady places searching for cool rock and a special breed of hold, something that only the sea can conjure - the frictionless sloper.

Slippy slopers ahoy

Slopers have been the mainstay of Bouldering since the beginning of time! To many they are like a drug; once you've learnt how to lower your centre of gravity and hold one more are needed to fulfill the physical urge to hang off things with open hands.  Websites, now sadly extinct, used to devote their entire output to the science of slopers; they invited you into a seedy world of slope coefficients and reader's slopers. When initiated into the cult, sloperism drives you on to find the slopiest of slopes- the harder to hold the better. You learn to negotiate the margins of friction and discover how much can be held by simply dragging skin across rock.

The Mid Wales coastal cliffs are made up of soft shales and sandstone.  The incessant action of the waves on this plyable medium has produced slopers of such rare quality that they deserve a special slopey place in the world of Sloperdom.  These frictionless wonders are hard to hold and keep you begging for more.  In the shade of the Leviathan I found such slopers, ones so slopey that they look like mere ripples in the rock. The line they defined felt improbable and yet impossible to leave.  Working the moves involved the initiation of upward movement whilst slowly yet steadily slipping towards the cushioned embrace of my pads. Decisiveness, body tension and a stubborn streak were the key to success. The problem 'Raspberry Ripple' (7b ish) is a celebration of the tidal sloper; it may not have the grandure of the project lines that lie behind it, it may also be affected by shifting pebble levels, however none of that matters when you match that ripple with a high heel and and a heart full of hope.

The line of "Raspberry Ripple"

The ripple - every problem should have one.

So what of the summer? It's here at last but no one can predict its longevity; however to quote an old adage- we should make hay whilst the sun shines.  The coast is bursting with established cool, shady venues. However the more adventurous looking for pastures new will find plenty to go at between the tides- our coastal Bouldering resources have as yet barely been touched.  Learn about the tides, search out some slick slopers and join the cult of open-handedness; enjoy the fact that even in the hottest weather good conditions can be found! If that's not enough to feed your sloper needs,  I'm sure that a well-appointed ice cream, or a sugary doughnut fresh from the fryer, will go some way to calm the nerves until temperatures drop and the gritty slopers in the hills can be exploited again.



Raspberry Ripple 7b from Owen McShane on Vimeo.

Clarach Bay Bouldering

Clarach Bay Bouldering – Mid Wales.

Sometimes in climbing you need something to pull you out of the doldrums. Plateaus can be hard to deal with - you feel heavy, uncoordinated and despondent. At these times you just need to get out there and climb, leave the projects behind and get enthusiastic about something. For me enthusiasm is nearly always rekindled by the development of ‘esoteria’, venues which have been discounted by others as being to scrappy, obscure, or to distant to be worth any effort. However to a boulderer disenchanted with projects and the general climbing rat-race present in Britain’s premier bouldering venues, it is these esoteric areas that will yield real excitement, adventure and at times problems of true quality. I was stuck in a deep rut earlier this year until my climbing focus turned to Mid Wales. I was going to visit friends there, and as I was aware, you never know what might be found to cure the climbing funk if you don’t look.

Mid Wales is sparsely populated. Its patchwork landscape of mountains and sea is so beautiful it almost hurts to be there when the sun shines. There is some already well documented bouldering in this region of the principality. Cae Du near Towyn, is well known and well visited by boulderers looking to take their family on a holiday that might, if they are lucky, involve some climbing.

I knew I would be staying in Aberystwyth. Aber is close to Cae Du as the crow flies, but a good hour and a half drive around the Dovey estuary is not an option for quick-fix climbing sessions. Internet searches revealed little in the Aberystwyth area. There were vague possibilities of bouldering on the top of a wet mountain with an hour walk in but nothing practical. Could there really be no bouldering in this area? Would the deep funk of a plateau be magnified by a forced, restless rest period? Well ........ no!

When looking for the magic of esoteric bouldering, persistence is the key. The mountains and bays around Aberystwyth had to yield something! I sent out e–mails, dug a bit deeper, contacted Terry Taylor at midwalesclimbing.com and eventually got a result. A lot of work I know but sometimes the thrill of the chase can be as exciting as the results you uncover, leading to a building of momentum and a return to psyche.

My digging, searching and hard work eventually allowed me to home in on a target- a venue five minutes from Aberystwyth and ten minutes from where I would be staying. Clarach Bay has some sports routes and there were some rumours of bouldering, however most of the leads that reported this place were pretty negative. I’ve never really listened to others so I thought I would find out for myself. Clarach has one other major feature which made it easy for me to ignore the opinions of others- it’s coastal. Many people hate bouldering on the beach, having to judge tides, weather windows and conditions, but I love it. The unique elements of shady caves and the cooling effect of evaporating salt water make coastal locations the only place to climb in a sweaty British summer.

My first visit to Clarach confirmed that my inquisitive and optimistic outlook can be advantageous (ok- it’s can also be annoying). Local climbers had forsaken Clarach in favour of the more popular bouldering of North Wales and the Peak. What they had left for me was by no means world class or even nationally significant- however, it is good. Cool, wave-washed graywhack sandstone overhanging with slopers and crimps, a little friable yes, but nothing serious. I climbed a range of problems from V1 – V7, some of which genuinely hold their own against problems in the Pass – honest!

It’s now summer. I’ve been to Clarach several times and climbed my projects. Psyche is restored by the regenerative qualities of the Mid Wales coastline. If you need to step off the treadmill and find some solitude, try some esoteria – you won’t regret it. There is a video and topo showing my exploits at Clarach below, use them to help you access the bay or as inspiration to find your own little boulderfield to breathe life into and pass on to others who are lacking psyche.


Clarach Bouldering from Owen McShane on Vimeo.


Here's the link for the topo.

http://www.keepandshare.com/doc/1975141/clarach-topo-pdf-june-15-2010-9-16-am-11-7-meg?da=y

Cheers Owen