Snowdonia last day: slate mine

The last day we didn't want to leave first thing in the morning: we figured most other people would, and we would only end up in a traffic jam. And the weather was terrible, so we figured a museum would keep us entertained in acceptably comfortable conditions.

The enormous slate quarry of which the workshops were now the Slate Museum

At first glace it looks like a natural landscape, But who looks closely can see three inclines, constructed for transporting slate: 

I had no idea that Wales was (had been?) the slate capital of the world. But walking around near Llanberis quickly makes you realise it; there's a gaping hole in a slatey hillside everywhere you look. The landscape is dotted with engine houses and inclines and railroads and what have you, all for the slate industry. Just outside Llaberis there is an amazingly big mine; when it was closed in the sixties (if I remember it correctly) they basically just walked away from the quarry itself, and all the associated infrastructure and workshops. And only years later it had all been turned into a museum!

We wandered around from water wheel to steam crane, from slate dressing demonstration to foundry tour, from quarrymen's cottage to sawmill, from blacksmith's workshop to canteen. It was very interesting! And it was a good way of spending half a day. But then we departed; we didn't want to get back home too late.

We had a great weekend, with amazing hiking, unbelievable mine exploration, and a lot of cultural heritage. I hope to do that again soon! It was great!

First first aid qualifications

After all these years I have finally become a responsible citizen. It took a while, but better late than never! You now read the words typed by someone with an outdoors first aid qualification. I had had capricious first aid training since my tender years as a girl guide, but I never received any structural training that actually lead to a qualification. And my confidence in my skills was concomitantly low. I hoped my membership of the cave rescue team would provide opportunities to do something about that, and that hope came true.

The secretary of the team happens to be a first aid trainer by profession, and he and his wife sacrificed a weekend to training those that wanted up to this outdoor first aid certificate. There were twelve of us.

We trained nine to six on both Saturday and Sunday. Long enough to let all this knowledge sink in! Repeating all I had already learned in the past years was very useful, and I had enough space in my memory left to also absorb the new stuff. And we practiced it all! We were assessing casualties, putting each other in recovery position, applying bandages, splinting (imaginary) broken bones, and whatnot. Quite a large part of it all was just being released onto casualties; it’s one thing to memorise things in a classroom, but it’s another thing to pick out the most relevant bits of what you have learned when you’re faced with a screaming and fainting person, and then putting them to practice without forgetting anything. And even the working together if a casualty is encountered by more than one rescuer is something that merits some training.

Two days isn’t really much when you think of it, but we covered quite a range of possible medical issues. To the extent that we were shown what to do with a fat, disabled, pregnant lady with a beard who was choking. You never know what you find down a cave! And at home I still have my first aid and casualty care books; just going back to these from time to time should help retain all that knowledge. I hope I never need it, but I’m glad I finally got me some medical skill!

Snowdonia: day 3

After two heroic days it's nice to take it easy. We started the day with cleaning our kit; Lionel had brought his rope-cleaner. And after that we decided to check out a hole in the mountain side we had seen when we walked to Llanberis. We got in; it was a nice little mine with lots of dead ends. And then we found a pitch. Of course we went down! From below, however, we could see what we had been standing on: that didn't look too good. It was all wooden platforms. We had a look in a level in solid rock, which had rather deep and very cold water in it, but after that we decided to get out of there. And we went back to the car.

The entrance

A crossing of levels inside

Lionel coming down the pitch

And we're out again!

Lionel suggested we could visit Caernarfon; it's a town with a famous castle, just up the road. So we did. We had a look around, and a pint, and then we decided to linger and have dinner there; we didn't think Llanberis would have anything better to offer. And then we went home. The plan was to go into town that night, but that did involve quite a scramble down, and worse: quite a scramble back up, later that night, in the dark; we decided against it. We had our own beer...

The city gate

There was some form of entertainment going on inside

The castle seen from one of its own towers

Snowdonia: day 2

Lionel had brought a printed-out trip report of a trip he had in mind for or caving weekend in Snowdonia. I had a look at it: it looked bloody die-hard! Would we be able to pull that one off? It mentioned terrifying crossings, and the need for lots and lots of kit. The group that did this in 2006, of which one member had written this report, didn't have enough kit to go back; that's why they had pushed on, and made it to the other side. That sounded daunting! But very, very intriguing too.

We all read the report. And decided to bloody give it a go. Maybe these people had been tested to the limit of their abilities, but there surely were ill-prepared nutcases too: one had gone underground in shorts andf T-shirt, and another had forgotten his cow tails. How much trouble can you invite? So we would not challenge fate as much. We would find out some of the trip had gotten easier in the meantime. Some had gotten harder...

It started with a problem that could be seen as a luxury. The entrance was up a hill; about 45 mins up. And the weather was amazing! Unfortunately it started raining while we got kitted up; we dressed conservatively because of it. But after that initial shower it was glorious. Too glorious to be walking uphill in a caving suit, carrying ropes, a boat, a pump, a buoyancy aid, and whatnot. But we got there.

Carrying all the kit to the entrance

These signs tell you clearly you reached a slate mine

The entrance was easy. I had never been in a slate mine! Why do they even mine that stuff in that way? I thought quarries would do. But evidently not. The place was rather impressive. And then we got to the first pitch. There was a fixed rope, but we didn't trust it; it could be who knows how old. We fixed our own. And left it; if we would have to come back that way we could.

It was a somewhat uncomfortable abseil; slate slopes are slippery and angular. But we all got down well. The next pitch was similar. And at the bottom of the second pitch we found a zip wire! That was fun! We used our own pulley, even though we found an in situ pulley at the far side of the wire. With pull-back cord.

A chamber near the entrance; it was quite a recent mine

The first pitch, as it was rigged; we chose to use our own ropes

Lionel (bright headlight and all) coming down the zipwire

Only tens of metres away was a suspension bridge. Fun too! This pace was amazing! Not only were the chambers so big it was truly impressive; there was also a veritable assault course set out. Great!

Hugh on the suspension bridge

On the other side of the suspension bridge we ate something. We would need the energy! The next thing was an old wood bridge. All the sleepers had gone; only the longitudinal beams were left. How rotten were they? Better not ask. Better clip in (there was a safety rope), balance well, and hold on to the ceiling. No problems.

Richard on the relatively intact bridge

The next impediment was a chamber (flooded, as the previous ones) where the original bridge had a) completely collapsed b) not been replaced. How to cross? A rope was bolted into the wall. You had to tarzan your way to the other side. Without footholds.

Was that it? Of course not! Now we were faced with the real challenge. It was called the "bridge of death"; we had read all about it in the trip report. Except that half the bridge had collapsed since. Basically, there were a rope and a steel cable bolted into the ceiling, going to the other side, and also fixed in the middle, where one bridge sleeper still remained. All four of us looked at it. This was hardly possible! But we had Lionel. The navy seal in him woke up, and he hesitated not; he just clipped into both rope and wire, and started to just monkey his way across. All well as long as the rope slumps down. Where you have to get back up, that's where it gets difficult! Not for Lionel, though. He effortlessly made his way to the middle. There he had to manage to clip into the wire on the other side, and detach himself from the rope on the near side. Easier said than done! But in the end he managed. And got to the other side of the chamber.

Richard dangling from te wires of the Bridge of Death

The Bridge of Death seen with long exposure time; notice the rotten, broken off far end

What is difficult for Lionel is really challenging for non-Lionels, in general. We sent Richard next, carrying a rope; He's light, strong, and experienced, so we figured he would make it. The rope would then help pull Laura across. And Hugh and I would have to make it on our own. Would we manage?

Richard made it. And Laura too. Then it was Hugh's turn. He even brought a bag along; he has a much more favourable weight-to-strength ratio than I have. So he made it fairly easy. And that left me. I attached myself to the rope and the wire, and had a go. Down is easy! Up is not. The karabiner with which I was attached to the steel wire had so much friction I struggled to pull it across. It jammed. I was dangling in mid-air, and was wondering how we would solve that situation. But Lionel shouted I only needed one metre more to get to the middle; that motivated me, and I just pulled really hard. And made it!

I took a break in the middle. And then went on to the other side. On that side, you could reach a rotting beam if you got halfway, so I got there, hooked the beam behind my foot, pulled myself in, and just moved along the beam for the rest of the way. Not bad! And by now we felt like proper adventurers!

The next obstacle was yet another flooded room, where a canoe replaced the bridge; you had to lower yourself on a rope into it, and then pull yourself (or be pulled) across. The next person would pull the canoe back and repeat the sequence. This really was yet another unprecedented piece of underground fun. But it would be the last! Just behind that chamber we found the boundary between the mine that we had entered and the one we hope to get out from. It had been two separate ones: Croesor and Rhosydd, but each had infringed on the other's territory, and the breaches allegedly had allowed miners from each mine to escape into an early end of the working day through the other's territory. The connections had been bricked up. But these walls had not survived mine exploration.

Laura coming up the rope on the far end of the chamber of the canoe, which can still be seen in the background.

Having reached Rhosydd the antics were over. We just walked. And soon saw daylight! We had to pick an exit that didn't look too dangerously steep, but we managed. And then we were left with a beautiful walk back, over the crest of the hill, to the entrance, quite far away. We had to get our ropes back! Richard and Lionel did that while I took pictures, aided by Hugh, and Laura waited for us. And then we could walk back to the cars, looking back on the most outrageous caving trip any of us had ever done. It had been great!

Daylight!

Where we came out

Me and the hole we clambered out through in the background

Little figurines on the left, and a lot of the quarry on the right

Walking back underneath dramatic skies

When we got back we drove past a pub that had many Hillary/ Mt Everest memorabilia, but after only one pint it was time to get home. Time for yet another very late meal. But not such a heavy trip the next day! We had earned a bit of rest after these two trips...

Snowdonia: first day

I am a bit of a hopeless case with taking long weekends off for caving. I am not the only one! Lionel had organised a weekend to Snowdonia, and by sheer exception I had joined. But most club members were similar to what I tend to be like, and it was only five of us heading that way. The group was Lionel, Hugh and me in one car, and Richard and Laura in the other. I hope the first 4 don’t need an introduction; Laura is a rather new member, but quite a motivated one, so this was already her second weekend in this neck of the woods.

We got there rather late, but by sheer coincidence, both cars arrived within 5 minutes of each other. It was time for a very late meal and then bed. And a look at the weather forecast; the next day would be rather good! A day for surface exploration, in other words!

The view from the hut

The next morning Lionel woke up early (as he seems to normally do). So by the time we staggered into the kitchen the kettle was boiling and the fry-up was on its way. And that was a good thing; we would have a long day ahead! We drove to a convenient location, parked, and set off. We started on a road, but soon the terrain got prettier. And prettier. And prettier! We had clear skies, sunshine, and amazing views. We walked up to the Devil’s Kitchen (for whom that means anything), and a bit further, and it was all very beautiful. We were very lucky! We all had a great time. I hope the pictures communicate the loveliness of the day…

How the trip started

It got serious! Two little dots in the scree are Hugh and Lionel

The strange formations at the top

At some point, when we were very high up, we saw the weather change, and decided to go down. It was quite steep. After a day of serious climbing it was quite some work for our muscles to get us back to the road. We had to follow it for the best part of an hour to get us back to tourist trap Llanberis, but it was worth it; there was a climbing shop and a pub there!

How we came down; Llanberis lake in the distance

Llanberis, a proper Welsh village: most traffic on the road consists of sheep

We wouldn’t use whatever we bought in the shop, but we sure enjoyed the pub. But we didn’t stay too late; we were hungry. So we walked up a path through slate quarry waste, back to the climbing hut we had rented. There were many interesting quarry relics on the way; winch houses, quarrymen’s cottages, and what have you; enough for me to get so distracted I lost the others. Luckily I had a rather good idea of where the hut was, so that all turned out fine. Another very late dinner, and it was time to go to bed, as the next day would be quite something too!

A winching house

The very slaty path

Quarrymen's cottages, or the ruins thereof