Climbing Snowdon: Crib Goch

A rare weekday off for Brendan and I spawned the idea to go on a sightseeing tour around Snowdonia and Anglesey. This leisurely day out soon turned into one of the most terrifying days of my life…

Brendan stayed at mine on Sunday night so that we could leave for Wales at 5am the next morning to catch a sunrise at Snowdon. Obvs we overslept (well, I purposely snoozed my alarm) and ended up 40 minutes behind already. We also stopped off at McDonald’s on the way for a proper hiker’s breakfast.

Lo and behold, the sun had already risen by the time we made it to Pen-y-pass – where it is now TEN QUID to park your car for the day. They say it’s to help maintain the paths, but I’m sorry Snowdonia.gov.wales – that’s fucking extortionate. Prices like that will drive people to park in dangerous places on the roadside.

Anyway. Rant over.

So we missed the sunrise. Time for a change of plan: climb the Pyg Track to the summit, take in the morning views, descend and head onto Anglesey.

The weather was unseasonably amazing for climbing. Sunshine, hardly any cloud and not a breath of wind.

Whilst hiking up the Pyg, I had an idea: let’s do Crib Goch. It’s the most challenging track up to the Snowdon summit and in this good weather, provides incredible views. I know of others who had done it and thought how hard could it be? Brendan approved and we changed course.

The Crib Goch path started off simply with a well-trodden path. What was all the fuss about?

Soon however, we were faced with a wall of jagged rocks. This is where the scramble begins. If you don’t know btw, a ‘scramble’ is “a walk up steep terrain involving the use of one’s hands”.

This was T.W.A.T.S. first experience of genuine scrambling, and tbf it was good fun. It was like being a kid again. There’s no obvious route to the top, so Brendan and I just had to wing it. It was slow going and tough in places, particularly on faces out of the sun or north facing – being November, ice was prevalent in these spots.

Slipping here is not advised. Quite early on in my mind I had decided this was not a route down I wanted to undertake – for us inexperienced climbers it would have been quite dangerous. So the only way was up.

Just as we arrived at the ridge, or arête, some cloud rolled in, and suddenly this fun, exciting path turned frightening. Brendan didn’t seem to care about the massive drops on either side of the ridge, but I had had issues with slipping all the way up the Crib Goch path and now I was scared. At points, the path is so narrow you can literally straddle it, and now ice was a real issue. I slipped and lost my footing whilst on the right hand side of the ridge – the most dangerous side. Luckily, I had been holding on with my hands. If I hadn’t been… I’m not sure how my body would cope with a thousand foot fall…

Fear was starting to freeze me. I couldn’t stand up because my legs had turned to jelly. The first part of the ridge is, in my opinion, the worst. It’s so narrow and if, like me, you had a false sense of security on ascent, you’re suddenly plunged back down to earth by how dangerous it suddenly becomes. Brendan was loving it – the prick was bounding along like a mountain goat with a camera, but I basically crawled across the entire ridge. Not classy, but I didn’t care.

I wanted off, ASAP, but once you’re on the ridge you cannot get off until you’ve reached the other side. Snowdonia National Park describe this a route “not for the inexperienced”, and obviously it’s much more difficult in icy conditions. And I don’t need to mention this route is utterly unsuitable for anyone afraid of heights. It’s never in the nature of T.W.A.T.S. to adhere to safety advice but right now I was wishing we had. Also, this had been my idea! What a tool.

I didn’t take the time to take in the views. I was more interested in not dying. Every single foot placement and every single rock to hold had to be focused on.

Finally, finally, we made it to the end of the ridge. It was time to sit down, have a cookie and cry internally.

Here’s me. As you can see, I just can’t really muster a smile right now. But from this piece of relatively flat ground, I could kind of enjoy the views.

I would have happily walked back to the car but Brendan peer pressured me into tackling the next challenge: the snowy Crib y Ddysgl. I felt grim.

Whilst still pretty dangerous, Crib y Ddysgl isn’t as bad as Crib Goch. There are more well-trodden paths, but being a hundred meters higher than Crib Goch meant we were now in the snowline.

Yet more fun for T.W.A.T.S. – I say this literally for Brendan, and incredibly sarcastically for me. Hiking through the white stuff meant the added danger of having to test every foot placement to ensure you were stood on underlying rock and not soft snow or ice.

We saw a strange cloud. I said it looked like a mushroom. Brendan said it looked like a penis. Take from that what you will.

I was getting a fed up of Brendan asking me to model for him. I only wanted to bloody finish this route and go home. Brendan asked how I was feeling…

As I was pretty slow, we had to keep stopping to let faster hikers overtake us. Letting someone by on a ridge this narrow was harrowing.

Look at his stupid cheery face. Even when he slipped, he did so with a smile. Was he being brave? Was he enjoying this adrenaline rush? Or was he just being an absolute idiot, like the 24-karat dunderhead who overtook us in WORN Nike trainers. Seriously, that is utterly unadvised. Mountain Rescue once recovered a body from Crib Goch that was wearing trainers. Speaking of which…

A number of times did this helicopter fly over us. Mountain Rescue are often called out to help people who are”cragfast” (frozen with fear and too scared to move). Again, let me reiterate that this is not a route for novice hikers.

As I said before, Crib y Ddysgl is a little safer to traverse. One reason being there are more flatter, wider sections on which you can grab some respite and fret about how the snow is getting deeper and more dangerous.

We passed a lady going the opposite way with crampons and crutches. Crazy. I wished her luck and said “try not to die.” I don’t think she did.

Anyway, the narrowness and the rockiness eventually gives way to a much wider ridge (more akin to my experience)…

…on which you’ll find the Trig point of Garnedd. Brendan was more enthused than I to be here.

From here, the path joins the Llanberis Path up to the summit of Snowdon.

Once again, as we approached the top of a mountain, some cloud rolled in. This was particularly annoying for two reasons – the summit had been clear all day, and this was my third time up Snowdon and STILL I had never been able to see a view from the top.

Hey ho. I took out my final cookie and posed for a selfie with the famous trig. And Brendan.

We hung around for a bit, desperate for the cloud to part, and surprisingly it did! I got to see an actual view from the summit! Third time lucky.

The lack of wind meant it was eerily quiet at Wales’ highest point, but for the murmur of fellow hikers. I passed a man riding his mountain bike back down the mountain. At last, I’d found someone today more stupid than T.W.A.T.S.

It was now 1:30pm. I wasn’t confident we’d make it down the mountain, back to the car, and all the way to Anglesey for a sunset. Tbh, I just wanted to get in my bed where I know I’m safe.

For the descent, we chose the Pyg Track which would lead us to the Miner’s Track. In the late autumn/winter months, the sun doesn’t rise high enough to touch this side of the mountain. The snow made the very top section of the Pyg Track pretty dangerous. Having had enough of fear today, I decided to slide down slowly on my arse, and duly lost control and genuinely nearly skittled Brendan off the side of the mountain. Thank gawd for my hiking pole. GET. ME. DOWN.

Slowly, slowly, we continued down the path and it soon became less dangerous. This meant I could enjoy my surroundings.

It was like being in a snowy bowl, or an Alpine pass.

The Miner’s Track takes you down from the Pyg to the beautiful lake of Glaslyn.

According to Welsh folklore, if two people spend the night at Glaslyn, one will become a great poet and the other will become insane. Unfortunately, Brendan and I didn’t stick around to test this myth. Maybe another time…

On the north-east shore of Glaslyn there’s a rather large boulder that Brendan insists on getting a photo upon every time he treads this path.

Further down the Miner’s Track you come to the much larger lake of Llyn Llydaw where the water is once again crystal clear and very reflective.

I really wanna spend a night here one day. Tent, fire, and (hopefully) a clear sky… It’d be like staying in the Grizzlies in Red Dead Redemption. Kind of.

Back at the car we changed out of our boots and headed down Pen-y-Pass to Llanberis for a now traditional meal at the Padarn Hotel, where we bought two main meals for £15. Can’t argue with that.

The plan had been to go to Anglesey after Snowdon… No. We were both exhausted. It was time to go home. Our day of cheating death was not yet over as Brendan nearly fell asleep at the wheel. We stopped for coffee and energy drinks and made it home safely.

So. Crib Goch review:

Did I have fun? To start with, yes. Overall, no.

Was I prepared for it? No.

Would I do it again? No.

With more experience, would I do it again? No.

Would I recommend it? No.

Join me next year when I’ve probably walked it again. It might be Brendan’s obituary blog.