Believe it or not, this thing actually started as a place to convey site news and share trip reports as a means of a teaser for new additions to the photo gallery. Within months, it began to gain a life of its own with musings of outdoors activities such as hillwalking, cycling and photography all finding their way on here. The first of these is the major focus these days and never seems to fail to yield something new to be shared, whether it's an idea for a trip away, something new in the outdoors media, a new piece of outdoors gear or even mental meanderings induced by the weather or the wonder of nature. I hope that you find something of interest, whatever it might happen to be.

Archive for the 'Gwynedd' Category

Seeing the heart of Cheshire and beyond by bike?

Wednesday, February 24th, 2010

Apparently, my late Uncle Jim had a fascination for exploring the byways of his local stomping ground and I am left wondering if my own inclinations come from the same gene pool. For instance, an unexpectedly Sunday morning from more than a week ago was the cause of dragging me out on my bike for a local run when the enticement failed to take me further afield. At the time, the main attraction was the prospect of having another go at making a photo of Little Moreton Hall. After a bright start, the day did progressively cloud over but that didn't make my visit to the old pile an unprofitable venture. As it happened, I came away satisfied and it didn't cost me a penny either because the National Trust hadn't opened up the place to the visiting public. That reminds me of Irish forest parks in the low season when it is possible to get in without paying. In the case of Little Moreton Hall, I may have had to stay on the outside of its walls and its gardens but I was temporarily ensconced on its front lawn all the same.

Little Moreton Hall, Odd Rode, Cheshire, England

On the way there, I took diversions to stop off at Gawsworth and Astbury. Photographic endeavours of either weren't to better previous efforts but there were compensations too. Quite a lot of the fish pool in front of Gawsworth's Old Hall was frozen, confining squabbling ducks to the end near the church and they amused me for a few minutes before I carried on down the A536. It looks as if Astbury will be providing me with another reason for going past Congleton on the A34 but it may facilitate another outing that takes me somewhere new too.

The journey that I took back from Little Moreton Hall was the main cause of my travelling around 37 miles in total. Apart from those aforementioned deviations, the outward journey followed the A536/A34 as if to make a bee line for the antiquity. Once there, I was lured towards Holmes Chapel with quieter lanes conveying me towards Rode Heath and the A50 taking me the rest of the way. The wideness of the road ensured that any traffic wasn't in conflict with me nor I with it, a useful state of affairs when part of me began to complain about the time spent on the saddle; small conurbations like Arclid and Brereton Green were useful punctuations that made the distance feel shorter as I completed bypassed Sandbach, spot not without its own attractions. It was after Holmes Chapel that my legs began to fatigue so I left a busy A535 at Twemlow Green to pick my way along much quieter lanes around by Goostrey and Over Peover until I reached Chelford. After all, busy twisty undulating roads and tiring cyclists never make a good match. A stop in Chelford allowed for some rest and a spot of refreshment too before I followed the A537 back to Macclesfield for a longer recuperation, a direct end to a good day's cycling.

The whole jaunt has thrown other ideas into sharp focus, especially those pertaining to exploring the middle of Cheshire by bicycle. Even the thought of a cycle through to Chester has come to me though I'd be catching a train back if i was to do something like that; the prospect of doing the most of a hundred miles in a single day sounds excessive. Nevertheless, there are places around the likes of Northwich and Delamere that I wouldn't mind savouring from a saddle rather than a train like what happened one Sunday last November. With that in mind, I acquired a copy of Cycling in the UK from SUSTRANS. As a sample of what the U.K. has to offer, it's good appetiser to have on a coffee table but I fancy having something more relevant to Cheshire. Nevertheless, it has caused me to ponder escapades like cycling from Barmouth to Porthmadog, all in Wales and all within sight of hills too. What really seals the deal for this one is that it would mean shadowing a railway line, a more than acceptable fallback if something went awry with the bike. While on the thread of dafter schemes, acquiring a Brompton folding bicycle is another that has entered an untethered head. After all, who knows what that might cause? Even with all these mental escapades, I am not planning to stop walking though hill country at all (I know that it is tales of those exploits that draw so many of you here) though I do need to admit some excitement at the prospect of exploring more places by bike too. Is this what could make 2010 different from other years?

A mixture of spring warmth and cloudless summits

Sunday, February 14th, 2010

It's amazing where a moment of curiosity might take you. The weekend before saw me checking out the travel possibilities for Keswick while pondering the reality of a day outing to Dyffryn Ardudwy was what was to follow it. The trouble with the latter is that the last train back is often at around 16:30 and that constrains the amount of time available for exploring the nearby hills. However, an 18:30 return journey made things a little more interesting, even if it added a late finish to an early start. That extra time available made reaching the top of Diffwys a possibility.

It wouldn't have been the first time that I ever thought of reaching Diffwys. Various forays around Dolgellau may have sown the seeds when northern hills looked better lit than the clag attractor that is Cadair Idris. A Spring Bank Holiday weekend stay in the area was when the prospect really came to mind an out and back walk from Barmouth wasn't going to happen in the time that was available to me on a gloriously sunny Sunday. That reality may have been the cause of extending my explorations to the north with some recce around Harlech of a sunny December day when low cloud hogged the Rhinogau. Next up was a wet weather walk from Tal-y-bont to Dyffryn Ardudwy via Pont-Scethin at the end of the following June. That wasn't what I intended but I left the train a (request) stop too early and needed to make the best of the wilder surroundings that were new to me. Last February saw me drop in with notions of reaching the summit of Moelfre but low cloud discouraged me and a circular hike around the hill was what ensued.

In many ways, the route for last weekend's stroll echo that of a year before. Starting from the (right) train station, I headed for the nearby burial chambers and passed them on a right of way that took me onto Fford Gors. Road walking conveyed me towards and past Cors y Geddl Hall to reach a gravel track that has seen my footfall a few times already. Moelfre loomed ahead of me and there were ample views along the coast of the hills to the north. In fact, I'd venture that Snowdon itself could be seen, stained with streaks of winter whiteness. More hilly humps lay to the west of it and took the eye out the Llyn Peninsula.

While I didn't rush along, I didn't dawdle either as I walked closer to the foot of Moelfre until I picked up the boggy track down to Pont-Scethin. The bridge itself is a well maintained specimen but it looks a little out of place with the rutted tracks that feed it. Having passed the bridge, I checked my map and two mountain bikers passed me. Every time I saw them ahead of me, they seemed to be walking more than cycling but the ascent was steep so it was understandable. I too made my way up the steepest incline of my day with views of Y Llether, Moelfre, Rhinog Fawr and more giving me excuses for rest breaks on the ascent. After all, with no one following me, it was not as if I was holding up anyone else.

When the gradients levelled off, I found the wall that I was to shadow on the way to Diffwys. Time consciousness was creeping into the fray yet again but the out and back walk to the top of Diffwys didn't look to be too far away. Of course, that didn't mean that it was quick hop there and boggy conditions underfoot along with undulations such as an unnamed 642 metre high top meant that patience was of the essence. However, there were views over towards a dark looking Cadair Idris and many other hills such as the Arans to savour and the shelf containing Llyn Dulyn was coming into sight too. 360º panoramic vistas were going to be my lot and I was able to pick out the Mawddach estuary too.

Some residual streaks of snow lay on the ground as I carried on higher but the only time that the white stuff intruded on my progress was when I made for the stile that took me across the wall to Diffwys' trig point. In truth, I reached it a little later than I would have liked but the knowledge that I'd be retracing steps kept my head level and I took a short break and enjoyed the surrounding scenery. Diffwys may not be the highest of hills but it is well placed and you can see for miles around it on a clear day, an occasional happenstance if my experiences are typical.

Going to the top of any hill is only half the battle because you have to get back down again and that's when things can go awry. Having a train to catch and running later than was ideal wasn't the most compatible of situations then but I didn't suffer any misfortune on its account. In fact, good progress was the essence of the return journey to Dyffryn Ardudwy's train station. Even so, it amazed me how long it took to get down by Llawlech and leave the sight of Llyn Erddyn behind me. With that out of the way, I managed to get from Pont-Scethin to the train station with ten minutes to spare, a satisfactory outcome. In the latter stages, a head torch was pressed into service until I was under street lights and was another of the contingencies that allowed me to make as much use of the day as I did. Even at 18:30, there was some some colour in the sky but it was far from enough to ward off the darkness that encroached at the end of what had been a glorious day's walking.

Travel Arrangements:

Return train journey from Macclesfield to Dyffryn Ardudwy with a change in Wolverhampton.

A foretaste of spring followed by a reminder of winter

Monday, February 8th, 2010

On Saturday, I was walking towards the top of a Welsh hill dressed in a manner more appropriate to a day in April. Since then, it has not been possible to put away the down jackets just yet and that is set to stay for the course of the week by the appearance of things. It was if I got a sneak preview of spring before it became established and it added to the pleasure of reaching the top of Diffwys after having it in mind for a few years. Looking at the two proper hill country outings that I have enjoyed so far this year, a pattern of picking a hill and heading towards its top seems to be falling into place.

In that vein, the idea of mounting nearby Y Llethr has entered my head and I suppose that there is something to the practice of using hills as fulcrums about which to lever myself out into those places that allow time and space for recharging of the spirit. Could this be a defining feature of 2010? That isn't a question that I can answer yet but it might put a stop to all sorts of floundering and give sense of purpose to my endeavours. Saying that, I am not about to engage in soul-less hill bagging because that isn't why I gravitate towards hills. After all, it's experiences like the eery silence that I met on the summit of Diffwys and the sight of sunlight dancing on the surrounding hillsides that do it for me. They may be all that endures when a favoured summit remains out of bounds on the day.

Once a certain life event is out of the way, I must get to saying more about last Saturday's Welsh wander and the previous weekend's exertions in Cumbria too. On both occasions, I came away with pleasing photos so time needs to be set aside to pick the best to share on here with you. It's not the easiest of tasks but good fortune can be met only with gratitude and never with grumbling. That you don't always meet the hills in the best of conditions only adds to the enjoyment when you do.

2009: a year of reconnaissance and rediscovery

Tuesday, January 26th, 2010

Before Christmas 2009, I tried making a start on this round-up but the attempt came to a full stop. One cause was a memory block and a certain loss of chronology in the trip report postings. Along with this, end of year fatigue and lack of inspiration had their parts to play too. The latter came home to roost when I failed to capture the year in a nutshell. It's a chicken and egg sort of problem: you have to get writing to crack what it is that lies at the heart of your planned jottings but you also need a theme in mind before you can get writing. Perhaps, it is for that reason that a month by month structure falls into place for these pieces each year.

Eventually, I cracked the problem and here is the posting that fell into place. At its heart lies a few recurring themes that the words reconnaissance and rediscovery help to convey. The first of these turns up a lot in the trip summary and reflects my iterative approach to exploring the countryside. While there are times when I go somewhere and it all falls into place, there are many when I am setting things up for a return. The second refers to my realisation after a ten year spell (call it a decade if you want) that was a lengthening list of places where I hadn't been for a while. Compounding that was a review of photos in the gallery that revealed that a new visit was in order to make new replacement photos. Having another go at image processing can only do so much and that especially applies to scanning prints. It was a successful tack when it came to encouraging to go back to locations that once used to attract a lot of my attention.

Still on the subject of rediscovery, the joys of two-wheeled travel along country lanes were enjoyed too. Before the pedestrian hill wandering took hold, cycling was the way that I did all my exploring but 2007 didn't see much time spent on my bike. That was addressed in 2008 and continued into last year. On some of my walking trips, the usefulness of cycling was brought home to me and 2010 may become a year when I go away somewhere and hire out a bike for a little while, something that I haven't done for more than a decade. Who knows but I may get to taking my bike with me to somewhere further afield once I get over a certain fear of the consequences of mechanical failure or a wheel getting punctured.

Slowly Building Up A Head Of Steam

Appropriately for a year that was to see me revisiting a number of locales where I hadn't been for a while, the first walking trip was on familiar local turf. Mind you, it take me until the last Saturday of January to get things moving and you really end up with tight leg muscles if you decide to go up a hill in such blustery conditions that even standing upright takes a huge effort. That hike started outside the Cat and Fiddle pub before dropping down towards Wildboarclough and going up again to the top of Shutlingsloe before dropping back into Macclesfield again.

Two descriptions that were to fit February of last year were freezing and frenzied. The first of these was down to a visit to British shores by a spell of cold and snowy weather that tested out a Mountain Equipment down jacket obtained at a knockdown price in the January sales. Though the cold snap was nowhere near as severe as the one that we have had since before Christmas, mountain rescue teams were littering the media with warnings about the need for winter skills and equipment. Even so, that did little to stymie my walking in four nations in four weekends, the last of these slipping into March. Nevertheless, the first of these was a low level walk along Great Langdale that followed the Cumbrian Way for much of the journey to Ambleside. Even though I stayed low, that's not to say that I didn't need to keep my eyes peel for ice on the ground and some of it was none too nice, if I remember correctly. That Cumbrian adventure was followed by an Irish escapade, my first ever dedicated hillwalking trip over there. Snow still abounded though it was on the retreat and I was to find bare rock near the top of the Great Sugarloaf not far from Kilmacanogue. The outing was a good start and on a mild springy if grey day but it needs following up on a suitable occasion. After one outing on the western side of the Irish sea, there was another on its eastern flanks. That took me to Dyffryn Ardudwy in Wales for a circular yomp around by Moelfre with clag covering even lower tops. That put an end to any idea of reaching the summit of Moelfre but it didn't mean that the day was spoilt; low cloud has its own appeal too and the sun did get through from time to time, especially near the coast where I found old burial chambers reminiscent of Irish dolmens. After walks in England, Ireland and Wales, it was Scotland's turn and the escapade was a very wet one with an hour or two of dryness and sunshine. The starting point was Tarbet on the shores of Loch Lomond and I rounded the lower slopes of Cruach Tarbet before doing the same with the head of Loch Long and following Glen Croe to reach Rest and Be Thankful. There was some dryness at my finishing point after a wet weather walk up the glen but Argyll soon got if hefty shower conveyor belt going to convince me that I was going home at the right time.

The remainder of March was quiet so it was over to April to be busier and it is here where the order of things got a bit confusing so I'll eschew the practice of following chronological order. At Easter, I fitted in a memorable if short first visit to Aviemore to spend a wonderful day around Rothiemurchus with some ascent of lesser summits to really set off the proceedings. Other outings were less dramatic and featured a contorted trot from Congleton to Leek on a mixture of public rights of way. There may have been a battle between sun and cloud overhead but the walk was not spoilt at all. A long overdue return trip to Derbyshire was in the same vein with the low-level walking offering a perfect opportunity to break in a pair of Meindl Burma boots that I purchase in the January sales at a knockdown price. My chosen route shadowed the River Derwent between Baslow and Matlock. My choice of starting point exposed me to a busy Chatsworth with a TVR owners' meet no doubt helping the visitor numbers. The hoards were lost by continuing south on an ever brightening afternoon. In between all of this, there was a trip to Wales for a hike from Dolwyddelan to Llyn Idwal on a gloriously hot sunny day that needed the hat that I purchased in Capel Curig after rounding Carnedd Moel Siabod. There may not have been so much height gain involved but I was content with being surrounded by hills.

Into Early Summer

May started with a trip to Eden or, to be more precise, to Cumbria's Eden Valley. I hadn't ever gone walking around Appleby-in-Westmorland before but this was to become a good introduction. This is Pennine Way country and I was to find my way onto the said trail in the vicinity of High Cup Nick. Any designs on reaching the Nick were stymied by a late train but a good day of walking was enjoyed on an ever improving afternoon when cloud surrendered to the sun. Another sampling of the verdant scenery that makes May my favourite month of the year took my from Leek back home to Macclesfield. It might have been Plan B on the day but I was rewarded for my patience around Tittesworth Reservoir with wondrous piece and quiet as I continued to Dane Bridge from where I picked my way for the rest of the journey home. Another Cumbrian outing completes the set for the month with a jaunt from Coniston by way of the Cumbrian Way and Loughrigg Fell, an idea inspired by a cold weather trip in May. It was not quietest of routes and the day was sure to draw the masses anyway but it had its quieter stretches too.

The Cumbrian theme continued into June with my embarking on a walk from Kirkstone Pass to Windermere by way of Stony Cove Pike, Threshthwaite Mouth, Park Fell and Troutbeck Park. It was a day often spent in the sort of splendid isolation that allows some clearance of mind. Any idea of taking the high route around by Ill Bell was left for another occasion in the interests of time. The steep ascent from Stony Cove Pike may have had its role in persuading me of the sense of a lower level route. There was a weekend visit to Scotland too with a wet and dry perambulation along the West Highland Way from Glen Coe to Kinlochleven. The start was none too promising but the improvement soon started but, while I sorted out some hill identification by topping out on Beinn Bheag and Stob Mhic Mhartuin, the idea of obtaining better photos than those which I already had has yet to be fulfilled. With the scenery that resides up there, there's never any harm in returning time after time. The day after saw me enjoying a resplendent Sunday morning stroll among Inverness' leafier parts; the Ness Islands are well worth finding. As was to be the case throughout the summer, my bike was carrying me out on local outings with an evening trip around by Congleton and an hot afternoon cycle taking in a busy Tatton Park and a quieter Duham Massey. After that deluge of outdoors activity, the month ended with a social trip to Ireland that took in the hills around Gougane Barra and the cliffs around Kilkee.

Barbecue Summer?

Except for ongoing local cycling trips, July was a much quieter month for me and the weather that we got was to make a mockery of the barbecue summer predictions in the long term forecast from the Met Office (these must have become an embarrassment by now and the winter forecast was more accurate). The month did start with a visit to Liverpool while on a damp day trip to the Isle of Man, a place where I hadn't gone before and hope to revisit sometime for some hill country hiking. Even with a continuous mixture of weather, I found a dry afternoon (and evening) at the end of the month to go walking from Kidsgrove to Wheelock. Along the way, I took in Mow Cop before getting to the Macclesfield Canal on the South Cheshire Way and then crossing to the Trent and Mersey Canal for the remainder of the trek.

August proved to be more active on the hillwalking front and it began with a flourish too. A day spent walking around Cwm Cau may have caught more low cloud than sun but what could have been a continually hot August day had its cooler interludes. It was that point that kept annoyance at bay when I saw sun gracing the sands near Barmouth. Generally, August was like July in that a mixed bag of weather was on offer. There may have been visions of basing myself in Mallaig for a week and spreading out to the likes of the Small Isles, Knoydart, Ardnamurchan and Glenfinnan but I was deflected by thoughts of seeing the are in less than ideal conditions. The result was that I headed east to Aviemore for a few days instead and the weather offered quiet a mixture, quite unlike the faultless day spent up there earlier in the year. Day one got me a soaking as I walking over the summits of Meall a’ Bhuachaille, Creagan Gorm, Creag a’ Chaillich and Craiggowrie and dampness wouldn't leave well alone as I went exploring around Craigellachie. Day two was better behaved with only light showers about while on what became a low-level reconnaissance walk Inshriach that took in Loch Gamhna and Loch an Eilean. The evening saw me seek out the start of the Speyside Way in much the same vein. Day three had an unforecasted damp start that was the cause of my making use of the Strathspey Railway, an experience that changed my mind about steam locomotives. After that, it was onto Glen More where more "rooting around" ensued as I reached Strath Nethy under dull skies that were battling the sun. Later, I followed the "Old Logging Way" back to Aviemore to await the overnight train for the south. That wasn't all of my Scottish wandering because the end of the month saw me ensconced in Edinburgh with the Festival in its death throes. An escape to the Pentland Hills occupied Saturday after a stroll over Salisbury Crags. What otherwise was a dry sunny day was punctuated by light rain showers but there still was much to enjoy. There may have been notions of an excursion to Melrose but they were parked for an easier day around the city revisiting old haunts. For now, the Eildon Hills lay unvisited but there always needs to be a reason to return. That itself reminds of what I did between those Scottish outings when I cycled to and from Lyme Park near Disley in Cheshire. The outbound route took in the Middlewood Way, Marple and part of the Macclesfield Canal while the way back went out the back gate of Lyme to take a more hilly course that skirted Kettleshulme and dropped into Pott Shrigley and Bollington. The latter course may have involved more walking due to the gradients encountered and under ever whitening skies. The cycling was broken otherwise by restful exploration of Lyme Park on what was a busy day. Nevertheless, I still found a quiet spot where I could linger while and discover one of the joys of cycling: having more time to loiter in between all the travel. It was all part of a little photography project of mine that was sending sending me around by various locations in the hope of improving the Cheshire album in the photo gallery. That was set to prove successful though there are other places that I'd like to revisit with the same purpose in mind. Anything that gets you out of doors has to be a good thing.

A Quieter Time Following A Rush

It seems that every busy month is either preceded or followed by a quieter one and August had both. September was less frenetic though there was a social visit to Ireland at the start of the month. Apart from a walk around by Springfield Castle, there was no Irish excursion of note while I was over there. An "Indian summer" visited us later in September and the realisation that I hadn't been there for a few years sent me back to Wharfedale in Yorkshire. The weather on the day was splendid and many were out and about. To a point, that limited the enjoyment of walking all the Wharfe between Burnsall and Howgill but it was quieter from there on and there was plenty of space for all around Bolton Abbey. The last stretch to Ilkley offered plenty of solitary moments should they have been required.

October wasn't the busiest of months for outdoor trips either though I did make my way to the Yorkshire Dales again. This time, it was a circular walk around Ingleton that drew me. That took in limestone country and crossed both Scales Moor and Ingleborough. Sunshine was a rare commodity until late in the day but that didn't dull the delights of being among limestone pavements and outcrops. On a brighter day, it would have been photographic heaven so I'll keep the idea on file for when such an opportunity arises. The same applies to explorations of the Lune Valley along which I had made my way while travelling out from Lancaster and back again.

Waking Up For The Winter

People in Cumbria will have good reason to remember last November and not for the best of reasons. The deluges were partially to blame for my outdoors activity being limited to a day trip to Chester with urban strolls there and around Stockport. My giving old photos the treatment that they needed was the cause of spending a lot of spare time sat in front of a computer too so I set up a plan to snap myself out from what was beginning to feel like a rut.

The result of that plotted escape was a weekend trip to Fort William at the start of December and the it started with a frosty morning too. The evening before saw me getting drenched while picking up tickets for the Caledonian Sleeper that was to carry me north overnight. While cloud was advancing from the southwest, I enjoyed the morning sunshine with a stroll around Fort William before heading out to Morar for a spot of reconnaissance after taking in the sights from the train while on way over there. The next day was relentlessly cloudy while I set to undertake my first visit to Ardgour. It looked as if Glen Coe was catching the sun but some ideas have been planted in my mind for future excursions. As if to draw me back again, the sun seemed to making a better battle with the clouds and I on my way home on the day after. The weekend reminded me of the plans that might have come to fruition in August but I wonder if the way that things have come about is better. A Sunday afternoon visit to Derbyshire followed a week later but an onset of wet conditions may have put paid to any notions that my Scottish break had been a week too early. Even so, I enjoyed a walk from Edale to Hope that took in Mam Tor and the Great Ridge. What amazed me was how fast I got from the top of Lose Hill to Hope's train station and with some time to spare before a Manchester train came along too. It still was a nice complement to the few hours spent testing a puncture repair on a cycle that took in some of Cheshire's hill country as well. They were the last outings of 2009 that I made before snow came and visited us. For making something of the white stuff, I embarked on a local stroll that took in the Macclesfield Canal, Tegg's Nose, the Gritstone Trail and Rainow. The lying snow was pristine and clear skies allowed the sun to do its magic so I reached home again satisfied with what was gained by my labours. A trip across the Irish Sea completed the year and, though another social one, there were hikes around by Springfield Castle and Kilmeedy in West Limerick.

And so to 2010…

In summary, there was quite a mix of destinations with new locations like Wicklow and the Cairngorms mixed in with local haunts in Cheshire and places visited a while back. 2010 is without big plans and has a feeling of a watershed about it. The idea of doing something a little different from previous years appeals. As of now, I have no idea what it might be but it won't be a case of consigning all previous things to the bin. Saying that, having a bit more variety and less repetition wouldn't be a bad thing.

A Cwm Cau Horseshoe

Friday, August 7th, 2009

A circular walk wasn’t what I had in mind, let alone some sort of horseshoe itinerary. The original idea had been to walk from Minffordd to Dolgellau by way of Cadair Idris. It simply was to be a case of following the Minffordd Path up and the Pony Path down before making for my destination either by road or a mixture of tarmac bashing and traversal over rights of way through fields. However, I changed my mind along the way because the distance between Cadair Idris and Dolgellau can be deceptive and the time that I had until my bus to Machynlleth looked more limited on the top of Penygadair, a summit that I wasn’t so bothered about reaching after managing the feat next to three years ago. Minffordd looked the nearer and I wanted to make sure of my way home, not at all a problem on the day.

My choice of Wales was based on the fact that an east moving rain belt might leave earlier to afford a drier day’s walking than might be had further east. It seems that I made the right decision and especially so when you consider that a rain belt was ensconced over Ireland during their August bank holiday weekend, not at all what they need right now. The Cadair Idris idea was in mind for a while after a previous attempt came to naught and less involved transport arrangements only added to its appeal.

The trouble with both Cadair Idris and the Rhinogau is that they are great collectors of clag whenever there is any uncertainty with regard to the weather conditions. Their proximity to the Irish Sea is what I think to be the cause and I seem to have made more visits when the tops were shrouded than when they were clear. However, a Spring Bank Holiday weekend "invasion", made trickier by the Cadair Idris hill race when it came to accommodation, a few years back proved that there are days when air clarity reigns supreme. Saturday’s incursion wasn’t to be one of those with low cloud smothering the summits from time to time. Even so, that reduction in visibility never obscured the presence of those fearsome inland cliff faces that surround Cwm Cau so all was safe.

Apart from safety concerns, the presence of so much cloud didn’t bother me so much because its absence could make for the sort of day when lazing rather than more strenuous activity would be the more tempting. So, while temperatures weren’t what they might have been, it was still hot sweaty work on the way uphill from Minffordd. In hindsight, my starting point probably should have been the car park at the junction of the B4405 and the A487 but I pottered down the former to following my intended right of way as the map showed it. You could say that I was taking a safety first approach on my first visit to the locality but it offered the opportunity to find my bearings and that can never be a bad thing, even if road traffic required a little negotiation.

My route away from tarmac was soon located and a mental note made of the off-road alternative. The path underfoot was well made with plenty of steps easing the way uphill through the woodland with waterfalls to my right. It was also quiet, an undeniable bonus when steep inclines are to be negotiated; there’s nothing like the freedom to determine your pace and rest stops without the nuisance of leap frogging that blights so many popular tracks through upland areas. Views of the hills surrounding Llyn Mwyngil (also known as Tal-y-llyn Lake) took up the time spent stationary. Cloud denied opportunities for photography but you can’t knock beauty when there’s no sun.

The gradients took to being kinder after the treeline was crossed and I was presented with a choice: staying with the Minffordd Path as planned or diverting around by Mynydd Moel instead. Having seen an information board before the uphill action commenced, the latter was tempting but I decided to keep with the original course and continued towards Llyn Cau on a path that was at times boggy and unclear. That may have been the cause of my approaching the corrie rather nearer than might have been intended but it was nothing that a spot of doubling back couldn’t fix and it was on open access land after all. In fact, I could have continued around the lake to embark on a steep ascent that reminds of the Devil’s Kitchen path in the Ogwen Valley. Some might find its like exhilarating but there are times too when making it harder for yourself than it needs to be is not in order.

The slopes of Craig Lwyd saw my footfall instead of the above more adventurous alternative whose presence hadn’t come to my notice by then anyway. There were a goodly number of folk plying the way hereabouts but not so many as make it feel like the walking equivalent of the M6 or the M25. The gradient was energetic but the coolness at above 600 metres in height kept the sweating in check. An extra layer was needed when things levelled off; steeper gradients never last. Airy ground became the order of things with views down to the lakes beneath competing with the slopes, craggy or not, for attention. Still, the ridge-like feel wasn’t sufficient to scare though it did provide every encouragement for keeping away from sharp steep stony deathly drops.

Craig-Cwm Amarch looked quite impressive when it came into view. Low cloud was wont to envelope me and anyone at this ca. 700 m height from time to time and the 791 m summit in question got cloaked too; the accompanying drop in temperature was the reason for my wrapping up warmer. Keeping a respectable distance from the edge, I left the peopled Craig-Cwm Amarch to cross Craig Cau for Penygadair. This may have meant a very noticeable height loss and subsequent regain but my legs weren’t complaining too much as Cadair Idris’ highest point came quickly enough.

View North from CadairIdris over Dolgellau, Gwynedd, Wales

Like many others there at the time, I lingered on the summit for a while. On my visit in August 2006, it was a breezy spot that felt more exposed than it felt on the return trip. Higher cloud abounded that day but with no sign of blue sky to complement it. For the second visit, the low cloud stayed away for long enough to allow glimpses of Barmouth and the mouth of the Mawdach Estuary from on high. In fact, there were decent views all around but the sense that you were under a cap of cloud that wasn’t everywhere was inescapable. It was a reminder of Kerry folk and their saying that Brandon on the Dingle peninsula has "his" cap on. The cause would be the same: moist unstable sea forming into wisps and clots as it rose in height.

It was a look at my watch put me off the idea of continuing to Dolgellau, in spite of the attractions of following a known path in conditions with occasional lack of air clarity. Thoughts of rushing things overpowered any such adavantages so I opeted for a shorter option that took in more summits, one of them being Mynydd Moel, and returning by the path that tempted me earlier. Along the way, I crossed nameless tops with ample views to the north. Whatever numbers of people had accumulated dissipated quickly as I continued to the east. While I questioned the sanity of the enterprise, the easy slopes to the top of Mynydd Moel were surmounted with one last look around before I started to pick my way down.

Looking at the map now, following the fence that I crossed to reach the said summit downhill wouldn’t have been so foolhardy if mapping can be trusted not to hide some unpleasant obstacle among the otherwise none too frightening slopes. On the day, I dropped down the hill’s eastern slopes on a well defined if occasionally challenging path to reach an informal one going south along the eastern bank of a watercourse. The down-slopes didn’t look so threatening from then on and I crossed the Nant Caenewydd near a wall that I followed west to pick up a maintained path taking me back towards the junction where I had that earlier quandary. My old Explorer OL23  showed the course of the formal Mynydd Moel path but that seems to be omitted from the Quo data that I have. That makes me wonder what a newer map might be missing but it’s all access land so no one should be hollering at any devil may care cross country wanderers like myself.

The way down steepened but it was known to me from earlier in the day and I knew that no rushing was needed. It still wasn’t busy and took me back to level ground in good time. This time, I followed the path to the car park that I had rejected earlier and reached my waiting point for the bus with time to spare, never a cause for complaint. However, your brain really doesn’t need to take to wandering into questions like whether you are at the right place to stop a bus when it is unmarked and whether the bus would be excessively delayed on its way south from Caernarfon. All such concerns proved to be unfounded, a good way of ensuring that they didn’t sully a fabulous day out.

Travel arrangements:

Return train journey from Macclesfield to Machynlleth and 32/X32 return bus trip from Machynlleth to Minffordd.