Under a tarp.

11°C, brisk W. Just below cloud base.
Searched for hours for somewhere to bed down. Now I’m on the Bwlch between Yr Aran and an unnamed hill to the east. Altitude about 500m. Inside the bivvy is warm and the tarp is flapping noisily in the wind. This was the most still pocket of air I could find.
The forecast suggests low chance of rain.
It’s a pity the tarp is such a bright green. I prefer something better camouflaged. It’s great to be able to peep out and see the mountains. There has been nobody on this side of Snowdon all day. Unless you want to count a noisy twin rotor military helicopter.

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The Stone wall makes for a good wind break.

New word: bimble.

6~14C, S brisk, clear.
Thirty years ago I first set eyes on this mountain. That was a Youth Hosteling trip with my brother on cheap, unreliable bikes. The day we arrived was warm sunshine and we both got sunburnt. The second day it rained heavily and a landslide closed the main road. We were, therefore stuck here a few days. In all of this, Tryfan stuck in my mind. It looked ominous those days. It looks like a clenched fist on the valley side.
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Today, I climbed it. I took the Heather Terrace route on the east face. Conditions were perfect but it was three hours climbing.
The title- bimble is a new word to me. They use it here to mean an easy walk, like amble, stroll, plod and all the rest. Clearly, there is a need for a word with a comedy tone.
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