I’ve managed a couple more snowy excursions in the limited offerings proffered by Snowdonia in recent weeks. Neither were particularly inspiring, although a solo trip up the broken rocks of the False Gribin did lead to a bit of an epiphany. I realised I don’t think I really like winter climbing any more. Not the hardcore, fall-offable, scared-for-your-life climbing that involves big drops or snowy rock climbing in clompy boots. Perhaps it’s the runner in me?

I think I still enjoy hard névé in easy gullies stretching for miles, but “névé” seems to be a word that has disappeared from the dictionary in North Wales in recent years so I’ve not had much chance to check. When I find out I’ll let you know.