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fabric to 4 season boots the route proved interesting. Near the top we found a small cave, formed from huge slabs of rock. The afforded some shelter where Charles coiled the rope back up. We donned extra clothing, as the weather began to close in, with sleet and snow. The decision not to climb Grooved Arete had been the right one.
We decided upon a visit to Idwal Slabs and so descended the western side of Tryan. As we reached the lower paths, the sleet turned to rain; we met a rambler asking about conditions up top. Charles cheerfully told him we'd let the Mountain Rescue know he was up there. The Rambler didn't take kindly to the humour and after a short sharp stare he moved on.
Reaching Idwal Slabs we had the intention of climbing Ordinary Route. My joke about having to queue in the downpour backfired as we found two groups already on the route; we sat down for lunch. With a veritable waterfall hurtling down the route we had our doubts about its possible enjoyment factor as a climb. Deliberating over Rock Cakes and warm tea we listened to the others moaning about the cold and damp. Did we really want to spend 3 hours climbing a waterfall in sub-zero temperatures? With a casting vote given to Ian we eventually decided to complete a circular walk back to the car via Ogwen Cottage. The afternoon finished in the warm embrace of the pub, near a fire.
Early evening saw us in the Saracens Head with Bill Burt, Dave O'Gorman, James & Rupert amongst others. Here they were assembling the equipment for a Country and Western singer (more of which later). Meanwhile James volunteered to drive my car leaving me free to drink the night away. After a couple of pints it was time to head over to the Sygun Country House Hotel where the dinner would be held.
Tucked away just outside Beddgelert it was a new venue location for our annual Xmas dinner. Albert discovered it not more than a month ago. Last years venue the Bistro had decided that they would be on holiday this year. We don't know why! Anyway back to this years venue. There were a series of cosy small rooms that led to the bar at the end. A fine discrete venue for bringing your young ladies away for a weekend. Here we found the others comfortably settled, drinks at the ready. Dinner was delicious consisting of a starter, main course, and desert, finishing with coffee. Everyone behaved and there were no speeches this month. Following cigars in the bar it was time to catch the Country and Western at the Saracens. Acting like the proverbial "Mother Hen" I quietly fussed as James drove my car quickly down the narrow lanes back to
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wards Beddgelert.
With great expectation we entered the Saracens.
"Wheeeen a cuwboys on the reeenge ……………..
It guts mutey straaaaaauuunge"
Was it karaoke? Some old git with an epileptic tape recorder and an out of tune guitar had the stage. (Was it Gary Bebb?) No - this was the Country and Western Singer. Nashville eats your heart out.
We settled down in a corner. It was so bad it was funny. We settled into singing along, thigh slapping, and ye-hawing after each song. Finally suffering from hoarse voices and sore thighs we could take no more and returned to the hut.
The others were gathered round Nick Erith's 6 bottles of spirits, each beginning with a different letter of the alphabet. Now who was it jokingly told him he had to bring them for A-Z II? The best bottle looked home made with a simple label with just the word "Gin" written on it.
Sunday saw Charles head home with Gary muttering something about gardens and the Chelsea Flower Show. The day was gloriously crisp, a rare day, not to be missed in the hills. James, Richard & I decided we wanted to get up high and so agreed upon Cnict. Walking with the minimum of gear we left Croeser and circled left over to the ridges to the west of Cnict, up Cnict, and back down the main ridge to provide a circular walk back to the car. Reaching the top around 11.30am we met Dave Nicholson, Dave Goodey, Ian & Chris. Chris shared out his Ginger Cake, welcome sustenance in the cold temperatures. A little snow covered the summit here and there but generally the ground was clear.
Returning to the car for 1.30pm we headed south along the A470 to Maentwog to pay a return visit to the Grapes. A venue those at the Ffestiniog meet in September will remember. Following a huge meal and a couple of pints of guest real ale, it was time to head home.
Phil Whitehurst
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