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I know what you’re thinking, “What’s the use of searching for dragons? All the dragons were slain long ago, in the olden days. You won’t find any dragons now.”
Well my friend, allow me to contradict you, for I have been in the presence of dragons and I know them to be alive and as fearsome as ever. What is more I know where they live; on Carreg Wastad, the eastern wall of the Llanberis Pass, in a grey, mysterious and distant land they call Eryri Cymru. (Just off the A5.)
Three of Ipswich Mountaineering Club’s elite three man teams had been assembled. The lead team Clare, Ala and Jeremy and support teams of Phil with Adrian and Cathy with Eddie.
The great wall of the Carreg towered above us, its top lost in a swirling mist. The rock was dark and wet. I stretched out my arm and with my open palm touched it and trembled. Yes, dank and cold, but something else besides; I touched eternity. I heard the rock on my hand moan, “I have always been here and will always remain here. The mist, the dragons, have always been here and will always remain here. You too have always been here, waiting. Now it is your time. Go.” I also heard another voice that day. “Come on, don’t just stand there, flake the rope,” it was Clare.
And so with vorpal swords, nuts, cams, two 50m half ropes and a winkle picker we set forth in search of dragons.
Clare was magnificence itself, making light where there was darkness in the opening chimney. A right to left traverse followed, and the first pitch was vanquished.
“Ah, ha. I was right, there are no dragons,” I hear you cry.
But hold my friend, for there are some things I did not tell you. You cannot just go in search of dragons, for dragons won’t simply let themselves be found. The dragon will choose the day and it will choose the ground on which to reveal himself.
On this day, Sunday 5th July, the ground was a small narrow ledge on Carreg Wastad. As we clung to the rock, huddled together there was a terrifying roar and out of the mist emerged the beast; the mighty rib itself, hanging in the air as if suspended by the very squall above.
Drawing breath to match fire with fire, Clare once more led on. Ala too set about the dragon. Momentarily silhouetted , she then was over and ascending, leaving me alone with the ancient reptile.
As behind a cloud the sun still shines, so too are brave men to faint hearts.
“Dragon, rib? Rib, dragon? You are but one! ” I cried.
So to the echo of my battle cry I went forth upon the rib of Crackstone Rib on Carreg Wastad in the land of Eryri Cymru.
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