Category Archives: Hiking

Tuesday twenty.

Posted on by
1

8°C,Clear sky, warmer.
Quick dash with MapMyRide! Distance: 22.03mi, time: 01:28:40, http://mapmyride.com/view_route?r=3382856112234561537
Very dry, dusty in places with some lumps of snow remaining. Got an idea for the weekend though- go to Wales and camp by Llyn Gwynant. If the hills are too icy to venture high, then spend time in a canoe, with low-land walks for the rest of the time. Their website says the valley floors are free of snow. I could venture up to the snowline with my main camera. That should mean that it’s easy to get up to the Watkins stone, great photos can be found up there.
Night temperatures shouldn’t be too far below freezing, but forecasts warn of ice and the need for crampons. I should do a course at Plas-y-brenin to be safe.

Getting dark

Posted on by
Reply

22°C, cleared by lunchtime

It’s dark earlier here. Much darker and sudden. It goes with that heart sinking realisation that a holiday is over. The sun touches down in Scotland at something like 21.10, here it’s half an hour earlier at least. How deflating. What would it be like to live up there in Scotland?

I asked some locals during my camping trip where folks fit screens on their windows to keep the midges out. Their answer was “to be fair, there are not many time you can open your windows in Scotland”. Perhaps the late evening are compensation for the much darker winters. But so what, they have the mountains & glens. I’m still intoxicated by all of that. Is there any way I could do just a year up there to see whether I could do it.

I have been hiking with Rosie in the Highlandsagain. There is a lifetime of holidays in those hills. Such holidays cost barely any more than living here- camping is costs about £5 per night and other needs would cost the same down here. I drove back on Friday thinking over what it is that is so beguiling.

Rannoch Moor in the scotch mist

The bleak Rannoch Moor was thick with Scotch mist. Mountains I knew faintly loomed out of the mist, sometimes with skirts of lacy ragged clouds. There are few roads across that strange landscape- the A82 was straight, but distorted by harsh winters of ice and lengthy snow cover. Tall reflective posts marks the road’s edges- presumably sometimes it’s the only way to know where the road ends and the moor begins.
I stopped a few times to take photos and take in the atmosphere. Soft drizzle penetrates clothes and camera. A few minutes pass and the midges gather, some to cloud around others to bite. They seems to prefer eyelids and neck. You have to move around to evade them, stand still and these slow flying insects catch up with you easily.

As if the landscape is a conscious entity, it draws you in with a spell and wants to swallow you up. It was so hard to tear myself away on Friday.

Related articles

Wild camp

Posted on by
Reply

19°C, light cloud with a SW breeze.

There is a great upland route near Glen Finnon. It’s a horseshoe of peaks that includes two Munroes, a long undulating ridge and magnificent views of glens, mountains including Ben Nevis, and views out to sea of the isles of Eeig &  Rum. I could find no proper campsite near the route’s start so I chose a spot for a wild-camp. It was fairly near the road on a col that looked deserted except for a trainline that carried a steam-train twice a day.

With a site selected, I put up the tent rather later than usual after cooking & eating supper first. Discretion is the rule here, put up the tent at sunset & take it down as soon as you can after sunrise. I bedded down at about 10pm and read for a while. The ground was a ripe breeding ground for midges and some got into the tent & bugged me while I lay there reading my book. Some of those midges are still there, adding punctuation to the story.
Later in the night, probably about 2am I was woke suddenly to an animal sound. A loud deep sound that was quite percussive. Despite choosing a spot out of view for humans, it wasn’t so hidden from deer.
I’m still naive about deer, I lay there heart thumping when the sound came again. A sudden burst of air somewhere between a grunt & a snort. Clearly the sound came from a big pair of lungs. My fear cortex ran overtime & I could picture a scene where a herd was making its way along old tracks that they have used for decades. All it would take is a slight disturbance and they would gallop in the dark in fright. There I lay, in a tent made of light thin fabric and only a summer weight sleeping bag for protection. Deer hooves are sharp, they use them for defence. These thoughts occupied the front of my mind. Strangely in all of this, Rosie my trusty dog wasn’t too bothered.
I decided to take the situation onto my own hands and got out of the tent with a torch. Good, they weren’t in immediate sight, so I scanned the horizon and hillsides with the beam. The stars shone brilliantly, the midges bit my bare legs but only one pair of eyes shone back in the darkness. After a short moment, even they were gone. Relief, they have fled. I stole a moment to look up at the filigree milky way and Cygnus blazing brightly overhead while the midges finished their meal.

I did eventually settle back to sleep though woke once more to pee. This time, peace, I could enjoy the image of a thin cresent moon next to the fixed brilliance of Venus as a morning star. There was another planet nearby but I don’t know what it was (probably Jupiter).
A big day lay ahead, a very long walk was the reason to camp in such a place so I grabbed more sleep.

The day went on from there as planned.

Rhinogau and grasslands

Posted on by
Reply

19°C, light rain

grassy approach with the quarry on the hillside in the distance

I drove away from Snowdonia with a heavy heart this afternoon. A polar opposite to the feeling I took with me last Friday. It felt almost routine, and would perhaps, be not such a big deal. Saturday I climbed Rhinog Fawr along a similar route to previous times. The route included some excursions off the track, and the final ascent was over rougher scrambling ground.

Sunday was supposed to be a lower level walk over to the next valley (Cwm Nantcol) in search of a sight seen last year partly hidden in the bracken. After coming down from Rhinog Fach, I passed a strange sight near some over-grown quarry workings. The land was claiming back buildings and tip constructions which had become part of the soil. The land had coated them in moss, malm grass, heather and bracken. However, part hidden in the lush vegetation was a staircase. A staircase out in the wilds that plunged down into the darkness. What a sight! No time to take any pictures- I felt some stress caused by time pressure and the fear of loosing daylight. The image strongly burnt into my mind, though I regret its location was not strong fixed enough in my mind’s map.

There were interesting sights to be sure. But even with 2½ hours of searching, I could not find that staircase. It can’t have gone, a solid structure like that, made of slate isn’t going to collapse into the soil. A trip back seems like the best idea now. I will have to approach it from the same direction as last year’s hike: may as well climb the mountain (G. Fach) too before descending by the same route. Maybe that’s the secret. Continue reading →

Scafel & Great Gable

Posted on by
Reply

5°C, clear.

Three days in the Lake District, so two nights under canvas. There is much to report: tales of long drives,  snow, sunburn, ice and bulls. The finches were very tame too.

Scafel: Climbed the same route that we first used in the first attempt with the Three Peaks group from work all those years ago. The climb onto the Col was not difficult, though it looked as if it would be. The rocks were wet and a few snow patches remained.

Great Gable: We got off to a tricky start- there was a narrow field jut up from the Wast Head pub where a small herd of cattle decided it was time to go back to the farm. The field narrowed as at the point where we would cross. Rosie performed a dramatic act of heroism- I let her off the lead when it became apparent that the bullocks might charge. She roared & barked and ran at the. the cleared off towards the farm. Result.

Later that day, we made the top of Great Gable which was not a difficult climb from the Windy Valley approach. That valley was quite sheltered from the 3°C wind- the one part of the walk where a cooling wind would have helped. On the summit, ice patches suggested that temperatures were considerably below freezing, possibly -6°. This summit has some large boulders which gave  good shelter, so we stopped for lunch.
The descent wasn’t so nice though. Firstly we tried the west route, but the fine scree was too difficult- it was too easy to slide without a way to stop. Digging heels in helped but no way to weigh anchor. I was not happy about it, so we went back to the top to find another route.

Moelwyns, Arenig and a Rhinog

Posted on by
Reply

19-21C, days of rain then sun, milky at times.

  1. Moelwyns ridge walk (dreadful non-stop rain once we got on the ridge
  2. Short walk near Ffestiniog (2 hours)
  3. Arenig Fawr, excellent day, though the air became milky later
  4. Rhinog Fach: a change of descent this time, we cut out Y Llethr and dropped down past the lake and some quarry works. There was a stairway to nowhere, that I failed to photograph

Mountain lake

Posted on by
Reply

24°C, light winds, no clouds.

Swim in Llyn Cwmffynion. First wild-swim of the year in a hidden corrie beneath Nantlle ridge. The water was shallow, only knee deep so no real swim I admit. The ridge was clear this time, the view almost endless and the hills rich in thick velvety emerald grasses and bilberrys. I simply wanted to stay and to stay. In the end we were drawn down by the thought of a quaint mountaineer’s cafe in Rhyd Ddu.

3 Peaks Challenge

Posted on by
Reply

15 to 22°C. Lifting cloud on Ben Nevis, some snow, and hot sunshine on Snowdon.

I’ve only had 3½ hours sleep since Sunday, my knee is sore occasionally, but fine the rest, (just don’t pivot on that leg).
Ben Nevis– 3½ to summit, 2½ hours down.
that decent was the most exhilarating thing I have done for a long time. Crossing the icefields was fascinating, especially when the real danger became visible through the mist. The summit is on a curving ridge, but an ice-sheet cut the corner. It had a series of cracks where the next section of the ledge was ready to break off and fall hundreds of metres below. We were equipped with rope/compass and heading to take if visibility got worse. We would then take a heading of 220° for 150m before continuing on 270° back onto the bare rock. The ice was melting from below, such that some strides plunged your leg up to the knee revealing a cavity of dark rocks.
~
Descending was extreme fun, Carl was urging us two on (as a breakaway pair) aiming to beat the clock. He’s call out encouraging time targets, significant turns and pressure to speed up. When he ran out of words he’d just growl! It got faster as the minibus came into sight, the last hundred yards was a sprint for the bridge. In fact, I ran past my colleagues from the first group, over the bridge and straight for the minibus. I’d run out of water ½ before so I stabbed my finger into the 4x2l water bottle pack and dragged out a 2 litre bottle of mineral water. Then I could start relaxing and winding down. It took a very long time to come down after that.
~
Scafell Pike 5½ hours (3h 05′ up with the group, 2:22′ on my own back down)
The problem one; descending this was beginning to hurt my knee, but the time lost on the ascent was enormous- the group had taken 18 stops- I felt the need for none. We could have taken an hour off that time if so many of the others had had breakfast. You just can’t take on five hours of exercise on an empty stomach- but they tried to. It was also a shame that the van was so slow- it would only do 60mph on level ground, we were too late to see the sunrise on the summit. Beginning the climb was darkness, but most of us had turned off our headlights within 15-20 mins as dusk broke.
~
Snowdon 3h 40′ solo, incl. 15 mins at the summit.
I took this at my own pace, which resulted in a curcuit time 2 hours faster then the others (/boast). The air was clear at the summit, A milky light just allowed Anglesea to be seen- if you knew what to look for.
I ran the last mile off Snowdon to get a better time and then waited for the others. Those who’d withdrawn met me there with a bottle of water and a round of applause! I needed that drink- it was the last of 11 litres g;ugged down my throat on that day.
I’m cycling in to work tomorrow to try to loosen up the legs; sleeping now since only had 3½ hours sleep since Sunday.
G’night.

Yesterday: Climb Snowdon

Posted on by
Reply

9 to 2°C, wind, sun and hailshowers.

3 Peaks: we climbed Mt. Snowdon yesterday, what an adventure!
After 3 hours driving from home, we met up at Pen-y-pass which was full- that made parking tricky. Anyway, we took the Miner’s track to the summit which was an easy way to start, but once past the last lake (Glaslyn) the terrain got far more tricky. It was steep and heavily obstructed with bolders and other rocks that were very angular (and colourful I may add). The last 300m of altitiude was covered in cloud and reaching the final ridge was an extrodinary experience. Both sides were a sea of light grey cloud that concealed enormous drops- the thought of them takes your breath away- think of that Victorian notion of the “sublime”.
We had to contend with strong winds from the NW but loads of people were also there- from the other 3 main routes no doubt.
The plan was to take some photos at the summit and then climb back down a short way to a sheltered corner to eat our lunchpacks. By the time we got there the cloud had gone down so we continued. Sitting still in cloud eating is a quick way to get cold and below the cloud layer, there was rain. The rain got heavier the further we descended. Somehow, I didn’t mind that, at one point my comment was
“I wonder if I would be enjoying this as much if the weather was good?”- I was not being facetious.
The return route was along the Pyg track. We all agreed that though this was shallower it was far more difficult, there were few runs of smooth path that you could set a pace on. The rain got heavier too.
The whole walk took five hours, too long really so we’ll stick to the Miner’s track both ways even with that very steep descent to Glaslyn.
Later we met up for shopping at Betws-y-Coed for a bit of shopping and a cafe stop. There is a nice bizz in that town, not like other parts of Wales which can seem rather run-down. I got a better rain-coat and a drinking bladder thing for my rucksac. There we all parted, most going home while I went west to my Mum’s caravan near Harlech. That was an adventure in itself, more possibly on that later, for now, there is a photo of rough seas taken from my overnight stay.