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.

Dolerite Daze.

I have said it before and I will put it out there again; dolerite is my favourite climbing medium - by quite some margin.  The Boss Curiver Bloc hidden in the evergreen expanses which guard Beddgelert, the erratics that dot the majestic Ogwen and Llanberis valleys, the chaotic jumble secretly secreted in Crafnant’s upper reaches and the blue stones that sit proudly on the hilltops of North Pembrokeshire; I just can’t get enough of it.  Deconstructing the dolerite experience gives us some pointers as to what makes it so addictive: dolerite can be rounded like grit, or angular- laser cut almost, like granite; lines always follow strong features, holds can be pinchy, sloping, or even savage and crimpy; however they all have one thing in common – texture.  Dolerite is like shark’s skin, it has possibly the best frictional qualities of anything (rock or otherwise) that I have chosen to slap in my entire life.  On a cold day you almost feel able to pull yourself up holdless dolerite faces through the adhesion created between your skin and this rasping rock alone.  One salient feature elevates the dolerite experience above all others and that is the effect of location; location, location, location.  There’s nothing quite like a boulder with a view, a grassy landing front and back and the potential for further development when the correct resources are available.

My favourite dolerite venue of the moment nestles on the hill in the middle of the sleepy town of Rhiw, far out on the western tip of North Wales. To most this small town would be an inconsequential cluster of whitewashed cottages with a priceless view and an air of the 1930’s. To the rabid boulderer it serves as the gateway to Porth Ysgo with its proud technical lines and miraculous micro-climate. We’ve all driven through Rhiw and looked at the dolerite hog back there on the hill. We’ve all thought, “hmm I wonder if there is any potential there?” and we have all driven on, dazzled by the promise offered by Ysgo’s stellar lines. Recent developments have changed that. A band of super-keen individuals have brought this crag to life, (you can read about it here and here) sending and reporting enough lines to get a Merseyside boulderer to stop and look on the way to Ysgo.

My first visit to Clwt y Fiaren and the Fisherman’s View Boulders was only meant to be a short fact-finding mission, an aperitif to my main course which was to be served at Porth Ysgo.  However I found the experience so absorbing I was still there shedding skin as the sun started to set; I just could not leave.  A second visit was scheduled, but this time in the cool, sunny conditions of a spring Sunday.  This trip confirmed what I had already suspected – this spot ranks amongst the very best bouldering locations in the UK. No really ……it is. 

Yes the site has deficiencies: there’s not a lot there and if you are looking for big numbers you will be disappointed; however the lines that have been developed are strong and proud and there is quite a lot to do around 7a. The element that places this venue in the bouldering premier league is the setting.  You will have to travel a long way to live out your dreams in a better landscape. As you boulder on clean, rough dolerite the sweep of Hell’s Mouth arcs away into the distance towards Abersoch.  Corduroy seas ripple past and break on panoramic shores as seals and dolphins swim lazily by. . . 

Welcome to nature’s smorgasbord - it doesn’t get any better than this.

Bouldering can be more than pulling hard, training, grades and posturing.  Climbing can be something deeper.  Spending a day slapping slopers, bathed in spring sunshine, as the sea shimmers into infinity is as close to perfect as is possible.  The boulders that populate the slopes around Rhiw are good; bouldering in this landscape is great – mind blowingly so!  Go once and you’ll go again, even with Porth Ysgo on the doorstep.  You really won’t be disappointed by this daze of dolerite.

Thanks to Sam once again for the vid and to Hip Hop Ben for the first photo.

More Welsh Esoteric Venues - Pembrokeshire

Pembrokeshire’s Potential



Most climbers think that there is no bouldering in Pembrokeshire, and why would you think otherwise? The standard trip to Pembrokeshire is a blend of the following ingredients:

• A bank holiday weekend
• Camping at Bosherston
• A traffic jam
• Classic trad routes in Mowing Word and Mother Carey’s Kitchen
• (and most importantly) Cream Tea.

With so much to think about and no established bouldering guide or circuit, the visiting climber seems to have no appetite for unlocking Pembrokeshire’s bouldering potential- or is it the cream teas that stop the hungry from exploring?

Well to those who have made the effort it is clear that Pembrokeshire has a lot of potential and is one of the last unexplored corners of the UK in terms of bouldering. It stands to reason that 180 miles of rocky coastline must yield some problems. When consider the rock types on the peninsula; limestone, sandstone, rhyolite and dolerite, the potential here begins to slip into focus.

There have been a few attempts to buck the trend and develop Pembrokeshire’s bouldering resources. My project here is to bring all the information that exists, past and present, together. This might provide the spark needed to get a scene going- leading to a systematic review of what’s available down there, way out west. You never know, people might travel for the bouldering rather than the trad on those bank holiday weekends. (However, it will take a little more than a bit of bouldering to reduce cream tea consumption.)

The first real bouldering development culminated in the production of “Anorak – Pembrokeshire Bouldering” a fanzine type bouldering guide published in 1997. There was an article in “On the Edge” magazine that people talked about for a while, a few people checked the venues out, sent some significant lines, and then the scene seemed to evaporate. A second attempt to create a buzz around Pembrokeshire’s coast line resulted in a PDF topo for Newgale North. This was written and distributed by Mark Hedge and he did a pretty good job. Mark’s input resulted in some interest and conversations on Ukbouldering. However no real momentum was created, the topo disappeared, and the pace of development in Pembrokeshire raced towards stop once again.


One of the many problems at Maidens Castle, Trefgarn.


So how can we light the touch paper, create a scene and get Pembrokeshire’s many potential locations developed? Well, to start with, here are those original topos- copy and paste these addresses into your web browser and use the information wisely!!

Firstly, here is the original Pembrokeshire bouldering guide – this is an interim version which has dropped a few of the venues from the original and has tried to incorporate photo topo’s and V grades. Use it with caution- it is not comprehensive and it originally only tried to point the way to potential so use it in this way:

www.alunrichardson.co.uk/uploads/pdf/rock%20climbing/pembroke_bouldering_2.04.pdf

Next we have Mark Hedge’s Newgale Guide, this is more comprehensive and useable:

www.keepandshare.com/doc/2007254/newgale-bouldering-guide-pdf-june-24-2010-12-12-pm-12-2-meg?da=y


Below is a picture of the slabs at Newgale North, these slabs create the caves referred to in Mark's guide.


Watch this space over the summer as I intend checking out more of Pembrokeshire’s bouldering spots with development in mind. In the meantime here is a video of a newish problem put up by Dan Warren in Newgale North (also some esoteria on Holyhead Mountain).



Remember the potential is there, it just needs to be unlocked. Use these resources to guide you and see what you can find. However if you do go and find nothing, don’t worry, you can have a cream tea, they are always easy to find.

Cheers Owen

Precipitation, Problems and Pembrokeshire – Newgale Revisited.

Driving around Pembrokeshire can be a surreal experience. Black stretches of unmarked tarmac snake through the landscape like serpents of infinite length. The few signs tell you that there is a mile to the next town, however in this part of West Wales a mile is not an actual measurable distance, rather a dreamy period of contemplation, bounded by the high green walls of natural hedgerows teaming with life. I was travelling along one of these lanes on a recent visit and as I rounded a corner I was greeted by a sign that stated “Budgie Babies £7.50 each.” How this sign could possibly be effective on a road driven on by, at most, tens of people a week, I have no idea.

I grew up in Pembrokeshire and when I visit now I am overcome by memories of past good (sometimes wild) times had in the perfect rural idyll. This usually lasts until the rain arrives. It can rain a lot in Pembs which is why it is so green and beautiful; however this is no consolation when well-made climbing plans are disrupted. The upside is that this inevitably leads to Cream Tea Cheer-Up Therapy, something that should be made available on the NHS as an effective cure for depression.

During my last foray into Pembrokeshire I managed an hour of bouldering in two days. Rain stopped play. However that one hour literally left me begging for more. At least the rain encouraged me to explore more of the possible bouldering areas in this quiet county. Some potential was seen, old problems rediscovered, and I came face to face with one of the best coastal boulders I have ever seen.

Trefgarn is a town found between Fishguard and Haverfordwest in the north of Pembrokeshire. There are two crags with bouldering here, Wolf Rock and Maiden’s Castle. As venues they were given a thorough going over in “Anorak – The Pembrokeshire Bouldering Guide” from 1997 (see previous post on how to get hold of this), however much potential remains. I could still recognise
this even through the sheets of rain that were slowly but surely dampening my enthusiasm. The potential lies in the semi highball bracket, however I could not touch it as these lines were wet. The reason I include Trefagarn is this: you can climb there when it is raining as some parts always remain dry.

The rock at Wolf Rock and Maiden’s castle is volcanic and dries very quickly. The scooped wall behind the main pinnacle at Maiden’s never gets wet. This is where my single hour of bouldering was had; and what an hour it was. I rediscovered problems and eliminates I put up ten years ago, yarding between holds on a twenty five to thirty degree overhang whilst everything around me disappeared in the enveloping mist. If you go to Pembrokeshire and its damp this is where you should go.

There are two types of rain in Pembs: type 1– soul destroying damp drizzle and type 2 – oh god there might be a mudslide! For most of the rest of my trip I experienced rain type two. On day two of my fact-finding mission I had cream tea for breakfast, that’s how bad it was. Spirits lifted, and happy in the knowledge that the tide was out, I thought I would investigate Newgale South. Dolph had developed a boulder there in 2001 and being slightly obsessive about Pembrokeshire bouldering I had to go and see it. Within a minute of walking along the beach I was wet. Within three I was soaked and the mission to find Dolph’s Boulder became an exercise in resistance training as my clothes were so weighed down with the contents of the sky.

The bouldering on the northern end of Newgale is well documented and the topo for the caves there can be found in my previous post on Pembrokeshire. The southern end has been a bit of a mystery to me. The Pembs bouldering guide hinted at potential and Dolph said it was good. I had looked before but had come away with nothing. I must confess I did have a “man look” last time; the kind of look a man has in the fridge when looking for something- the kind of look which is followed by a yell to his partner or wife who will then find the item in question. Despite the rain I was determined to find the potential at Newgale South and yelling would not help as my wife was 200 miles away in Liverpool.

To find the bouldering at Newgale South you need to walk south along the beach past the prominent headland and into the maze of small zawns that point out to sea from that point on. All the documented and potential bouldering on this part of the beach is hidden away amongst this jumble. You may walk around and think there is nothing there, however persistence reaps rewards!! If you take the time, this is the potential you will find:







If you are really diligent in your search of this sandstone jungle, you will also find this:
Dolph’s Boulder



It still has project lines on it!! A photo topo of what has been done and what remains can be found by following this link.

http://www.keepandshare.com/doc/2206476/newgale-south-topo-pdf-september-2-2010-2-58-pm-3-6-meg?da=y

When I say this boulder is good- I mean it is really good! Bullet hard sandstone, wave washed and rounded in its lower reaches like a bowling ball. If you needed a reason to motivate yourself to get down to Pembrokeshire to boulder, here it is. Believe me, if you get there and it’s not raining (and you manage to get onto the beach without consuming too many cream teas) you will have a very good session indeed! Even though it was wet gaining the knowledge, Dolph’s Boulder made the absorption of every drop from the sky worth it. Go to Newgale, you won’t regret it.

Cheers Owen

A summer on the road.

I started bouldering in the late 90s- in 1998 in fact. My early forays were designed to distract me from some of the more enjoyable yet physically taxing aspects of my new life in the urban spaces of Merseyside. As with many things in my life, brief visits to climbing walls and crags quickly led to complete immersion in all aspects of climbing and climbing culture. Guide books, magazines, videos, topos and tall tales were digested greedily and in equal measure. My need to experience climbing physically, mentally and culturally could not be sated. Thirteen years of injury and the shifting sands of life have done little to quench this thirst.

In the late 90s the ultimate expression of being a baggy, beany wearing boulderer was to be involved in a road trip. Ben and Jerry had stepped out of their Pennine playgrounds underscored by the weird musical landscapes provided by Warp Records in “One Summer Bouldering in the Peak” and jumped into a world of beats, base and travel showcased in “The Real Thing.” This video, propelled by the rocket fuel of Ninja Tunes’ various artists changed the lives of many and provided the template for all climbing films that followed. Titles like “Rampage” and “Frequent Flyers” from the States stoked boulderers’ desire to go on the road. Like a crazed furnace man I happily shovelled coal onto the fires of those around me, feeding their burning need to go to venues such as Font, Ailfrode and El Cougal. Many a lad happily hopped onto my train of pure enthusiasm- many a girlfriend wished I could be derailed in some way.

On a road trip distance has no meaning- neither has time. All spatial and temporal measurements are calculated by looking at the number of map pages traversed compared to those yet to come. Towns, cities, countries fly past in a blur of smells, sounds and colour. Blood thickened, senses sharpened by espresso. White lines guide the way, keep you safe, tick, tick, tick by, setting the rhythm of the road. Hypnotised by motion, reality is held within a metal bubble with a windscreen on the world. All existence is fleeting, fluid as it flies by. This intoxicating mix of movement and momentum means no venue or problem seems out of reach, beyond the glare of headlamps searching for experience.



This year, like those of the past, the road trip is king. A thousand miles has disappeared in a day. This summer two thousand miles have evaporated in a couple of weeks. The bays and coves that nestle along the Welsh coastline have been scoured and exploited from north to south in search of the wave-washed booty that may lie within. Familiar haunts have been revisited and reworked; new venues have been found and hot foreign boulders have been plundered for all that they are worth, all to the tick, tick rhythm of the white lines as they stretch away into a myriad of possibilities.

It’s been a good summer to be on the road. Liverpool’s terraces have always ebbed and flowed, swelled and crashed into rollers of discontent on the streets. Urban spaces across the nation suffered a similar fate, burning on the bonfires of inequality, flames fanned by cuts and carelessness. It would be nice to think that the rhythm of the road could open minds and help quell the flames, however it is unlikely. As one character met on a trip this summer said, “London has burned on and off for a thousand years, there is no reason it should stop now or in the future.” So as we remove carrots and rule our urban spaces with sticks again, discontentment will build and we will ride these waves of fury out into the countryside and our playgrounds of possibility in summers to come.

Views from Dinas Pembrokeshire

Dinas is the Welsh word for city. It is strange that in a summer spent escaping city life this word in particular has resonated through the venues I have visited. From Dinas rocks in Glyn Neath and the wonder that is Fat Cat Roof, to the blue dolerite above Dinas in Pembrokeshire and on to Dinas Dinlle west of Caernarfon the launch pad from which new problems were crafted at Porth Dinllaen. The tick, tick rhythm of the lines on the road has led me away from the Urban whilst place names have firmly anchored me to that labyrinth of lives – the city.

Road trips are about escapism- swapping a routine of commuting and working to one where only eating, sleeping and climbing counts. Life becomes a simpler story on a road trip, the pages turn themselves day to day, crag to crag. In this narrative I like to frame myself as the driver; part of the machinery that devours distance, separated from the engine by nothing more than a simple membrane of skin, sensing the surface of the road through the vibrations of the steering wheel. My escape into the process that propels us along the road is secondary to the escape sought in the landscapes at the journey’s end. Carn Enoch and Garn Fawr sit high on a moor that overlooks Newport and the north coast of Pembrokeshire. This boulder field’s position high above Dinas Cross, inhabited by nothing but mountain ponies and sheep, is possibly one of the best in the UK. What the venue lacks in volume it makes up for in atmosphere. There is something ancient and mystical about this place; if you tune in the impression it makes may just help you through those dark, damp urban nights to come.


Some Problems from Dinas Pembrokeshire












Porth Dinllaen is a different beast; separated from a tourist hotspot by the manicured grass of a golf course, escape should be hard to find. However the crowds’ attentions are diverted by sand, beers, ice cream, sandwiches and putters leaving you with leagues of sea and boulders to climb. Half a dozen freestanding boulders serve as a playground for a boulderer looking for sport whilst the family enjoy the foaming waves nearby. The rock here can be sharp and even friable however the elements have sculpted it into shapes that succumb to a gentle mix of care, power and guile. Numerous zawns litter this short stretch of coast, they contain beautiful, dangerous lines waiting for someone who is willing to risk all and engage with the escapism of first ascents above angry landings. The climbing here feels adventurous despite the crowds and their sandcastles a stone’s throw away. Road trips throw up a rich range of experiences, you can take what you like from them. I’m sure someone out there would quite happily consume a post-send ice cream whilst contemplating how they would play the difficult par three, thirteenth hole that lies before them, their golf clubs and bouldering mat.












Sequencial shots of a possible new problem at Porth Dinllaen - Hoobies High Heels font 7a










Summers, like road trips, inevitably come to an end. The time arrives to meld with the car and retrace the steps taken into these rich landscapes of experience, following them back into city structures of concrete, brick, glass, and angst. Returning to the urban seems less melancholy when the journey is fuelled by beats and base, fingertips throbbing, the mind illuminated by the myriad of moves attempted along the way. These mental scenes will light the dark months hiding under the same overhangs and caves that have sustained past winters. Like ants we will swarm over our cities, retreating to the safety of buildings and the enterprise that lies within them. I will try to move mountains with teaspoons for yet another year, hoping that those young people I work with won’t light the urban touch paper again soon, whilst all the time the tick, tick of the road will always be there in my head, inviting me on trips yet to be conceived. As young men waste their lives battling against knowledge, informing me how bored they are, my mind will find an even keel in the plans of the next road trip and the adventures that lie ahead.

Cheers Owen