Wild camp: Bohuntine

21°C, very wet morning, lovely later.
The bothy is out of reach, the river in spate, is impassable. I did try, but the brown water is too strong and deep in the middle.

Camp opposite the Bothy

Camp opposite the Bothy

It’s been a good day, all went to plan despite a rotten start. Rain poured all night, so it looked daunting. Once I got underway, the sky cleared and great photos presented themselves.
Today I did the half day walk intended- Bouhontine and the parallel roads. Guide-books always show photos of them them in winter but they are quite clear even now, all covered in grass, heather and bracken.
The best part of the walk was the secret valley behind Bouhontine hill.
As I write, I any lying in my tent, awaiting a good night’s sleep. Last time I wildcamped, I was spooked by a bellowing stag.
Wish me luck.

Buachaille Etive Mor

14°C, rain in afternoon.
Ridge walk with 4 summits over 3,000ft, though only 2 count as Monroes. The main feature was a snaking ridge which could have revealed breathtaking views if the cloud cleared. Only the first summit was clear and it stood over Rannock Moor with layers of mountains that ran on forever.

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So, today’s summits-
Stob Dearg 1022m
Stob Na Doire 1011m,
Stob Coire Altruim 941m,
Stob na Broige 956m.
The last three formed an undulating ridge which was easy to navigate, even in cloud.

Rhinog afternoon.

22°C-ish,clearing but rain evening.
Climbed Rhinog Fawr 724m alt (according to my phone GPS app). There were a few groups of people on the summit, mainly those who had taken the same route as I.
We all agreed that Wales was very quiet compared to usual for an end of July weekend. Anyway, after a very slow start that saw us leave at 11.30, the day just got better starting with sunshine on that summit.
Now I’m lying in the tent in the pouring rain on this, the last night before we go home.

Llanbedr beach.

26°C, no. wind, no clouds.
Moved camp. South to Llanbedr. There is a very nice flat walk around the old airfield. It’s a nature reserve with few paths. This shows in the lack of erosion of the ground, the bare sand is created by rabbits, not man. Walking through willow-herb, clouds of butterflys filled the air.
I walked west towards the sea. This stew should be a quiet stretch of beach. Dunes form more ridges than expected, but eventually the last one reveals the sea.

There were people, but not many, and they were separated by large gasp. It was a while before I noticed that they were all naked. I have walked into a naturist reserve.
So I went for a swim. No need then, to get my clothes wet.

Cwm Bycham is very still this evening. The only sounds are from livestock, their belly calls reverberate as if the sound is feeling it’s way across the rocky sides. The sound seems to probe the shard of the land as a whale might.

Wet nettles.

18°C. Later, light rain for now.
Do wet nettles sting more than dry ones? After this morning’s dog walk, I thought maybe.
That reminds me of the two girls who stumbled into nettles last week. They stopped to get their first aid kits out. Carefully they applied cream when traditionally we’d use dock leaves. I asked whether they had not been stung by nettles before. They had not, at 14 and never had a nettle sting.
These kids don’t play outside do they?

0.7 mph.

20°C, clear tanning sky.
Practice Expedition: three score and eight walked over calm Worcestershire farmlands. I let one group of 14 year old girls. I say led because actually I was training them to follow a course on the map.

Map picture

Lost geographer: there were four groups following our route. The first we didn’t see, apart from their footprints. the other two were ahead of us because my group took so many breaks. We stopped for a sit-down break within the first mile. Not a good start. Later though, we could see another group heading south along a field boundary, the general heading should have been east. then they turned back which lead them on a course to intercept us. They were lead by a geography teacher. Oh dear.

The mud-foot incident. Another break and this one included a pee-stop. the first went round to the next field out of sight while we ate sandwiches. she came back with a huge glob of clay-mud entirely covering one boot & lower leg. A quiet girl said ” that looks so wrong”. That’s it, I had to turn my back, I lost it unable to fight back the convulsions of laughter. I stifled them, but that made it worse.

Cider apple orchards: Had a long and interesting chat with apple farmers in a large Bulmer’s apple orchard.  I heard all about how the trees are harvested, the bees and Strongbow Cider. They let the group fill up water bottles and we pressed on. Water was a problem in the heat, with most of the girls overloaded with badly packed rucksacks and unnecessary provisions. they have some to learn.

Paradise: Holt Wood lies in the most beguiling ocean of grass, meadow-lands blazing with buttercups nodding in the soft breeze. Each flower eagerly stretched towards the sun. I was elated, the air, the sun and the colours. As I walked, wistful and wide-eyed the girls did grumble. They were really very grumpy by then which seemed to spread amongst them like a contagion. None of that intruded on my thoughts, the place was utterly beautiful. I as in love with it all.

The lost geographers returned from another mis-read of the map. Better take over then, and they seemed relieved. I did a number of recces to find crossings, stiles and gates in the overgrown hedgerows. leter, I did make one mistake on the final 2km and took them up a hill 3/4 km south of the one we needed to make the descent to the camp. After another recce, where I found that the electric fences were live,  I plotted a short-cut route. The short-cut was no good though,  because it would take us across a field of tall grass, probably wheat. I was not going to let the teenagers trample crops down so we returned to the lane. That only added about 1/2 km to the route, they groaned collectively
The last km produced the best quote of the day for me. I trotted passed the group to put myself on the front before the final turning and one piped up: “Sir, don’t you ever get tired?”.
It was now 20.00 and still sunny.

Nope, not really, not on a walk like this anyway.
Anyway, to conclude, the kids did brighten up after food. after fussing with their efforts to make camp, I put my own tent up at about 21.30. Food by 22.30. Bed by 23.45.

Edno

9°C, light cloud My mind is still filled with the magical experiences in Wales. What a special place; I can see how stories of monster and myth arise. I am no religious man, but there is something in those special places.

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llyn Edno on the Molwyns

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Moel Lefn

Look carefully and you may see monsters. They come out of the ground in Wales.

Snow on Snowdon

+5° @ ground, -6° at summit.
Started this morning not sure whether I would attempt the summit. So we started off, after a lengthy breakfast, at 11.30. At each stage I was encouraged by conditions. So up we went.
The landscape on the ridge another world, only a year after I started to feel jaded by busy Snowdon. On the upper reaches, towards the summit, the snow changed. It became harder to dig toes in to get a foothold, and crampon marks became common.
The ice became difficult only at the summit cafe and the trig point. I decided against a descent the same way, too risky. The Snowdon Ranger path is far easier, but took up off the mountain on the wrong side.
We arrived in Rhyd Ddu at about 6 after a diversion across moor-land. That left up with a long walk along roads, 7 miles in all. Back at camp at 9.30.
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What does this all mean? We visited another country, another world. Ice sculpted rocks poked out threatening.
We walked long and hard, but my stamina did not lessen. Poor Rosie struggled in the last 5 miles, she’s getting older but perhaps needed another feed. This morning, I have stiff legs, but no blisters, no injuries. I feel strong.

Molwynian snow crossing.

-3 to +9, clear blue.

Crossed the ridge from south to North. Walked for 8½ hours with a few breaks not counting photo stops. Most of it was on snow. A new experience for me, the technique seems to be – dig your heels in on the way down. There were few of The ice slides I had feared but I did change the route. It’s a bit like walking on soft sand, except that the support is less predictable. Sometimes the snow supports your weight, sometimes your foot plunges in deep. Deep enough to reach your bum a few times.image

Gwynant morning.

-3°C, clear, calm.

Coldest morning that I have ever woken to in a tent. The water bladder is a slush-puppy inside and the tap is frozen. I cleared it but it’s glazed over again now. However, it’s a dazzling beautiful morning and I am comfortable in my quilted coat and ski salopettes. It’s dangerous on the upper slopes of Snowdon, so probably best to walk on the Molwynion just south of here. The ground should be less marshy between snow fields.image