5 of the loveliest trad climbs you’ll ever do

Libby peter

Libby is a devoted trad climber, instructor, mountain guide and Climbers' Club member. She started climbing before walls were cool places to hang out, and sport climbing was barely a thing. Nowadays, she loves all aspects of our wonderful climbing world, including training for it, and still believes the best is yet to come!

Libby shares five of her favourite climbs that will have you racking up ready for trad season...

WCS26 was kindly supported by the Climbers' Club.

The Climbers' Club is the UK's largest rock climbing and mountaineering club, welcoming people from all backgrounds, nationalities, ages and genders. Members enjoy access to a network of huts throughout the UK and meets throughout the UK and beyond.

What makes a climb special? And I don’t mean special in a 3-star classic sense, but what makes a climb special to you? Which ones do you hold close to your heart - returning to the memories long after the experience?

For me it’s the deeply textured and layered quality of the whole experience. It feels unique, precious and leaves me deeply satiated. Or gives me that - wouldn’t be anywhere else in the whole world right now - feeling. A heady concoction of people and place, light and shadow, nerves and deep peace.

Here are five climbs that at one time or another had a touch of magic touch for me:

1. Squareface VD, Beinn a’ Bhuird, Highlands of Scotland

I spent much of my early twenties on the northern slopes of the Cairngorms. I didn’t have a car then, but the exquisite granite climbs on this side, especially those peering down at Loch A’an were magical entertainment. And yet, I yearned to visit the far side. The southern side. In particular an immaculate face that hangs below the vast bulk of Beinn a’ Bhuird. The cliff is not big, but it’s setting creates a sense of grandeur and drama. And, by one of those remarkable quirks of geology allows a very amenable and attractive climb. Despite countless plans, I never made it over there, until recently.

Our visit, in 2023 coincided with a mini Scottish heatwave so it was a no-brainer to take bivvy kit and spend the night at altitude amongst the blaeberries, and dusty sphagnum. A Saharan wind nudged us along keeping midges at bay and cooling us as we laboured on bikes with heavy packs. Bikes stashed and the final ascent stomped we dropped bivvy kit, brewed up and dropped in for the climb. Tee-shirt weather and not a drop of damp, nor anyone we could see for miles and miles and miles. Just us, the ravens and acres of rough, reassuring rock. An excursion well worth the decades-long wait. I’d recommend the bikes, and the bivvy, and the heatwave, but even without any of those added extras it will feel special. If it’s not on your list, it should be!

2. Oxford and Cambridge Direct S, Grey Crag, Buttermere, Lake district

The Lake District had been my student days stomping ground, but this whole valley was a mystery to me. I’d never even driven through it. Don’t you just love that there can be whole swathes of your own country still waiting to be discovered for the first time? It’s also quite fun to be a passenger sometimes, just agree to someone else’s plan. Let them tell what rack you need, follow them on the walk-in while you marvel at fresh scenery. This is exactly what I did, I hadn’t even looked it up on UKC! 

Despite a lush, green walk-in, I confess to feeling underwhelmed by the diminutive cliff with a nondescript first pitch, so I was bracing myself for disappointment. But I needn’t have. The top pitch of this little route crams a whole load of 'wow' factor into its 30 or so metres. Tip-toeing up that arête you feel like a heroine. You’re on the edge of the world, and nothing else matters. This is the epitome of quality versus quantity, so if you ever find yourself up there, don’t forget to savour every single last drop.

3. Lighthouse Arete VS 4b, Castell Helen, Gogarth, Ynes Mon, Cymru

Everyone knows Lighthouse Arête, but for good reason; it has endured the passage of many feet and yet is still beautiful.

This time it was evening. We sat patiently at the top for the crowds to dwindle while the light thickened and shadows lengthened. I’d been here countless times, for many climbs, with many different folk. What made this visit special was to share it with my youngest daughter, Ruby, who was keen to lead it. Climbing with youngsters brings a fresh energy, their excitement and enthusiasm is infectious. Jaded eyes see anew. Remembering those early climbs, how each one was a momentous occasion - the research, the planning, borrowing gear from friends to bolster the meagre rack.

Was I wrong to hand it to her on a plate like this? To rig the abseil, ensure she had copious runners, hover closely should any wobbles bubble up? Nah. She was still at school and had plenty of stress to deal with in the exam halls very soon, she deserved an easy ride. She lapped it up without even a hint of wobble - years spent training for climbing comps had built her a huge reserve of strength and an abundance of moves. She danced up it effortlessly. But the best part for me, was looking down at her and her school mate Archie, as they hung out on a ledge above the sea while the sun dipped. Learning without being taught that those moments can be the main reason for making all that effort to go climbing in these slightly awkward to access places. Now that’s a proper result!

4. Diedre Sud HS 4b, Mowing Ward, Pembrokeshire

This grand corner climb is another one that should be on every sea-cliff devotee’s list. It has a big intimidation factor. Not simply because of the abseil approach, and the airy perch above the sea, but knowing that it’s the easiest way back out by several grades.

This section of cliff is also popular with nesting birds, as well as climbers. Sometimes you’ll have your heart set on it only to find it occupied by Razorbills. They have right of way, as do any climbers who got up earlier than you. Anyway, it’s far better to wait a few extra years and climb it when it’s emptied of its temporary inhabitants.

In my early days of climbing, when Diedre Sud was high on my list, I only ever seemed to visit Pembroke in the spring - peak nesting season. Later, my grade-greedy eyes were set on other objectives, so to finally rig the abseil and it be the only route I wanted to climb that day felt quite a moment. Climbing it with several grades in hand might have taken away most of the nerves, but not the thrill. It’s a true pure line - no deviation, repetition, and only a smattering of hesitation to figure which of the plethora of chunky gear placements to use. If it’s not on your list, maybe it should be!

5. Right Angle HS 4b, Gurnards Head, Penwith, Cornwall

Despite growing up around the corner, I’d never visited this spot until Garry suggested it. As you’ll have noticed by now, Garry was behind the camera in all of these shots. Since 2021 he’s been journeying the length and breadth of the country with a raggle-taggle assortment of friends in tow to capture images and absorb the essence of the climb for a book called 'Easy Climbs in Nice Places' that comes to fruition this summer. All the climbs fall within the grade range of Diff to HS 4b, and they're all in very nice places. There are two VS 4b sea cliff climbs, but they're a soft touch at the grade, and would be HS 4b if on an inland crag. If you like the sound of it I’m sure you’ll be able to track it down.

Gurnard’s Head, home to Right Angle is one of his places. A rugged, jutting headland into which a perfectly right angled zawn nestles. A rather unnerving approach pitch climbs you sideways, and a bit downwards towards the corner, before the secretive main-pitch is revealed. The autumn day we climbed it was crisp, bright and windless, and we’d underestimated the force of the Atlantic swell until too late. Waves twice the size of the one in the photo later barrelled into the zawn with booming, mesmeric regularity. We escaped with only a soaking, but it could have been a very different story. Take heed!