Walking in Snowdonia
5, 6 February 2004

Ancient trackway, new route...

I spent two days of fabulous walking on a navigation course with Del Davies of Wild Wales. The original plan was to do the course with Anne, but work intervened for Anne and Del was happy for me to go on my own...I arrived at Betws on the day after the tremendous floods at  Llanrwst, and the roads were still awash in places.

Del picked me up the next morning and we set off up the road to just below Capel Curig. Del suggested I started thinking in kilometres rather than miles for walking, as OS maps are measured in kms...obvious and brilliant. He showed me how to measure short distances in millimetres; the importance of using the compass just to show direction (rather than taking a bearing); and working out how long it takes to walk 1km - for me, about 13 minutes. 

As we headed up a path into woodland and across a style into a field, Del pointed out the features on the map and how to use boundaries so as not to miss tracks. We took an old trackway up to Waenhir - a lovely old house now used by a mountaineering club.

Waenhir tucked into a shoulder of rocky outcrop

Sheltering under the gables of the house, Del worked out the next part of the route - over the rock to hit the footpath - and showed me how to take a bearing and use it backwards to check where you are. Working out the route in bite-sized  chunks was an important lesson.

Beyond Waenhir and on through streams

Most of the paths had become streams but the walking was so easy after struggling through ploughed fields in Kent and Essex. We headed over wonderful open country, glowing orange and that almost lime green of north Wales grass. Del pointed out the basin of what would have been a lake in the ice age - now a marshy space at the foot of the hills. We climbed up slowly to a pass between the two valleys; the border marked by an immense stone wall with a great gap where the path passed through. It was a dramatic pass: almost like crossing through into another domain. There was quite a drop down into the next valley before reaching Blaen y Nant. Then it was up again, past Hendre and a stiff climb besides the swollen stream.

I think it's been raining...

We paused on the bridge just above the falls, and Del brought out one of the vilest brews know to man: quick tea (probably sold as Kwik Tee).

Del mixing the dreaded QT

But it didn't taste too bad - the miracle of fresh air. On with the steep climb up through the forest and some boggy ground.

Midway through the forest it was hard to tell if the path we were following was the same as the one on the map, but after a quick detour to check where we were, we found the right track and paused at the edge of the forest to attack our lunch. 

So far, the day had been cloudy but warm, although we could see the sun to the north. Del felt the rain would come on in the afternoon. Next we followed the line of a fence, again climbing steeply, then turning off the fence line to head towards the first summit on the ridge of Creigiau Gleision. 

Del heading towards the first summit

As we climbed, the wind got stronger and stronger, and on top, at 634m, it was hard to stand up. But the view was worth every step - over to Tryfan, covered in cloud; down to Llyn Cowlyd reservoir and north to the Little Orme in the sunshine.

From the heights of Creigiau Gleision, with quartz rock just below us

We were now partly in the cloud, and watched wisps of cloud rushing through the rocks just beneath us.

Looking out with the sea in the distance

We continued climbing up to the highest summit at 678m, where a pile of stones marked the high point. The wind by now was ferocious - gale force 8, Del reckoned. He advised me to walk leaning into it. It was hard to breathe with the wind face on. Del said: this is what a flag feels like. We swayed downwards and I learnt a new word in Welsh: gwint, wind. Skirting Craig Wen we headed down through the funnel of  Bwlch y Gwint and I was nearly blown off my feet with the force of the gale - cold, blasted and exhilarated. But I was very glad I wasn't walking here on my own. A raven flew overhead, perfectly balanced on the wind. 

Downwards now past an outcrop of beautiful Henry Moore shaped boulders, and Del found a shelter used by native ponies where he whisked out the QT again. This time is tasted quite nice, which was very worrying. Then it was uphill again to Llyn y Coryn - crown lake - where the ground got very marshy. We followed a fence line straight down, with Del bounding down like a mountain goat.

Del heading down with the ice age lake ahead

Looking back the way we'd descended along the fence line

We headed for a stream which would link us to the footpath we'd used in the morning...the stream was quite a torrent and as I jumped it I dunked my foot in the water and felt wet for the first time. We were soon back on the footpath and heading back through the woods to the car.

What a fantastic day's walking - one of the best ever. Marvellous country which kept changing its terrain and colour. And I learnt a huge amount about walking in the hills.

The next day was very different countryside...