This month Big G takes us over to the frosty side of the valley; a little visited area with much promise for the intrepid explorer.

Dear NWB readers,

Yet again we must deviate from the true path of trivia and highlight some genuine possibilities. These have been long admired by folk sat at the RAC boulders staring into space, their focus eventually falling upon lands of the unknown, lying across the Dyffryn Mymbyr marshlands, with the giant slabs beyond (gr 696 563). In some light conditions the extraordinary seabed ripple-surface of this glacis gives itself away (and is worthy of examination in its own right) but what of the rocks hereabouts?

Well at the base of the slabs a five metre wall can be seen, and the first capable crimpmaster to make the required wellyboot rite of passage will not be disappointed. One particularly glaring line awaits a loving brush and a nest of pads.

Good landings and perfect rock will keep initial visitors content just within this section, but there are possibilities among the shapely rocks to the east and at the top of the slabs, both places giving the feeling of never having been explored by the slipper-clad mat-manoeuverer.

It's a bit wild over here. Rests between problems can be spent watching foxes run between the sprawl of lesser blocks as buzzards waft life into a faltering soar, eyeing every inch of their sheep-dotted domain. Herons will come and go from the stream like benign pterodactyls. Frogs will croak a simple song. Sundew will periodically unfold their prehistoric claws to trap small flies. And far away at the lakes edge you may at times see the odd pencil-like figure of a fisherman, rod gently moving, like a conductor orchestrating the near silence.

The boulderer will scarcely hear the distant strip of road unrolled through this primitive place and a sense of peace will descend, like cloud over high ground.

Walk the walk.

love big G

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