Category: Wales
Pondering coastal walking possibilities
28th April 2010 With a bank holiday weekend ahead of us, thoughts turn to making use of the extra time. In truth, the pondering started last week and my thinking ended up in Northumberland even if I didn't. It's been a while since my sole hike by the county's coastline near the start of 2006 and, given that I had a largely cloudy day for my exertions, it would be worth going back to savour the sights. Then, I journeyed from Alnmouth to Craster and back again, so there are sights such as Dunstanburgh and Bamburgh castles awaiting my attention along with Lindisfarne. Public transport connections make a day trip tricky, but it might be high time that I spent a bit longer over there.
While on the subject of a few days around Northumberland, my brain wandered inland to Wooler where I began to consider using St. Cuthbert's Way for heading west to Kirk Yetholm. Transport (on Sundays and bank holidays, that is; it's reasonable on other days) and other practicalities set me to considering the following of the Borders Abbeys Way for getting to Kelso for onward travel. Another walking option in the area would be going east along St. Cuthbert's Way towards the coast where travel connections are better of a Sunday.
After that mental meander inland, it is time to return to the intended subject for this posting. That takes me to Arran, another part of the world where I haven't been for a few years since I walked to the top of Goatfell on Easter Sunday in 2006. Then, I got mixed weather with hail near the summit, a patch of snow on the path on the way down and a deluge that beset me while making my way back to my lodgings for the night. The next day, I took a bus ride around the island with occasional showers never far away. There is a coastal path to complement the bumpy stuff in the north of the island and that is what brings the island into this discussion. A return is long-overdue and following part of the island's coastline would make a good excuse to spend more time there again.
Turning south brings me to the Isle of Man and its coastal path. To date, the island has received just a single solitary flying visit, and I am tempted by the prospect of spending a bit more time seeing more of the place. It has its hills too, but you sometimes can get to know what lies inland while peering in from the coast. So far, it is largely uncharted terrain for me and that might be adding a certain frisson of novelty to the idea too.
Staying on a southward trajectory takes me to another part of the world where I haven't been for next to four years: Pembrokeshire. A lengthened weekend down there had me walking from Newgale to St. David's on Saturday, around Marloes on Sunday and around Newport while on the way home on Monday. While there, I got lucky with the weather and the sunshine did plenty of justice to the indented coastline as it wowed me while I took in my ever-changing surroundings. Be warned that there are plenty of ups and downs with gentleness not being a strong point of the gradients. By the end of my walk on Saturday, it was time for a well-earned rest after the way that my leg muscles had been exercised along the Pembrokeshire Coastal Path. It may feel that I have taken in a lot, I only have nibbled at the national trail, so there's much more to savour yet.
There is a reason why I am sticking with a few examples of coastal trails for now: there are loads and enacted legislation is to provide more access, so there must be a certain something to exploring coastline for more than me. Navigation generally is easy, and the scenery can be an intoxicating mix too. Some walk may walk right around Britain or another island, but I'll content myself with pleasing sections like those mentioned above. Others such as the Fife Coastal Path, the Gower and the South West Coast Path are there should I ever decide on exploring very new horizons but pacing myself feels more sensible. Plenty of tempting options exist that are nearer to me and keeping closer to home mightn't be such a bad plan.
In its own way, the forthcoming bank holiday weekend set all of this off. It looks like bringing a mixture of weather to us but don't they all? Even so, I have concocted some sort of scheme to break me away from the day-to-day routine. As is my habit, I'll leave it to work out how it will before saying more on here.
Very alike but not the same: an ascent of Y Llethr from Dyffryn Ardudwy
26th April 2010 This past weekend has been a lazier one than the one before it, when I took myself down to Dyffryn Ardudwy with the idea of walking to the top of Y Llethr. Fatigue had a lot to do with the stasis, as did floundering with options as to what I could be doing; it is difficult to get more enthused for one idea over another when your brain is tired. That option perusal hasn't gone to waste because it has added ideas to the proverbial shelf for future outings, especially with a bank holiday weekend ahead of us. Thoughts of taking in sections of long-distance trails in places like Northumberland, Pembrokeshire or even the Isle of Man have come to mind, so who knows what might come of them.
In the midst of all this mulling over prospective escapades, it struck me as to how easy it is to make reaching a hill top the fulcrum of a walk. A long-distance trail needs room to breathe and so takes up more room on the landscape, whereas hummocks can be stuffed next to anywhere. The observation also illustrates how you can gravitate towards summits when there are few other objectives about, something that can lead you down a slippery slope that takes you up more gradients. However, if I have anything to do with it, I'll be following up the ascent of Y Llethr with trail walking for the sake of variety if nothing else.
Returning to the Welsh outing in question, the idea came from a previous hike to the top of Diffwys from Dyffryn Ardudwy. Spying Y Llethr across the valley from me was what set the brain to thinking. There is a horseshoe walk that takes in Crib-y-Rhiw as well, but it isn't something that I'd try on a day trip from home. In fact, sorting accommodation in the area for a night or two would be well rewarded with some poking around Rhinog Fawr and Rhinog Fach made possible along with the aforementioned horseshoe. Terry Marsh's Great Mountain Days in Snowdonia has put a few possibilities into my head, and they aren't all walks to summits either; he starts the Diffwys-Y Llethr horseshoe from Talybont, an interesting choice. After all, this is a wilder side of Wales that guarantees plenty of space and calm for those times when you need to escape the frenetic pace of the modern world. It's as near the emptiness of the Scottish Highlands as you'll find in the principality.
My Y Llethr hill outing was to have me reprising much of my walk to Diffwys with a twist. For the sake of variety, I used a different way from Dyffryn that avoided the megalithic tombs that I usually pass. That landed me further up Ffordd Gors and Cors y Gedol was passed without much further ado to pick up the non-metalled track for Llyn Bodlyn. The turn-off for Pont Scethin that I followed at the start of February was passed and not taken. What I was after was a clear path to my left that would take me up the slopes towards Y Llethr. I was already seeing signs of where I was headed when a labouring mountain biker passed me and later left the road to gain some height, using part of the path that I needed.
That cue from one of the few people that I encountered on my walk was more than useful. He may have gone left at a fork unmarked on my OL18 map, but once off the gravel track yet still on sound ground, I easily made out the direction that I needed. Going uphill granted views over Llyn Bodlyn without the gradients being overly harsh. Still, they were sufficient to make my pins remind me of what I did to them on the side of Moel Siabod the week before. Next up was the wall on Moelyblithcwm that I was to shadow loosely for much of the way. The track that I was following stayed with gentler gradients, even if that meant wandering away from the wall for much of the time. Eventually, it sent me through boggy ground, from which I emerged to find a stile that brought me over the wall to the final steep approach to the top of Y Llethr.
Steady, unhurried progress was what the final steep pull up to the flat top of Y Llethr. The summit was left to come towards me in its own good time, with vistas opening up more and more as I gained height. Moelfre was an unmissable feature through my out and back yomp, and it was to the west of me now. To the south, Crib-y-Rhiw lay temptingly at hand, with Diffwys beyond the ridge. Maybe it was that proximity that put walking up Y Llethr into my head last February. Cadair Idris and others like it were nearby too, though they were hazy on the day.
Once on the summit, I could gaze upon Rhinog Fach and Rhinog Fawr to the north; the views were finally verging on being 360º. It was at this point that I was joined by two walkers coming up from the other side. After exchanging a few words, I wandered over a little to gain better views of Rhinog Fawr and Rhinog Fach before descending on a route of my own making before I reached the stile that I had crossed earlier. Beyond the stile, I stayed with the wall and encountered some very soft mossy stuff underfoot before things dried up ahead of a stony canter downhill before I again picked up the track that had brought me uphill and stuck with it for the rest of the descent to the reservoir track. By now, the sun had changed position such that good photographic fodder was on offer behind me and I didn't waste it, even if it were to cost me time.
Knowing the distance that I had yet to travel after reaching the Llyn Bodlyn track, I paced myself so as not to miss my train home. Photographic pit stops were unavoidable given how the evening was going, even if I was mindful of the time. From Cors y Gedol Hall downhill, I stayed on Ffordd Gors like I did last February. Though there were a few hours left in the day, the sun was beginning to lower as I shortened the distance I had left to travel. It had all the hallmarks of an idyllic end to a good day's walking and acted as a reminder of summer too. All the while, I stocked up on refreshments in Dyffryn and caught that train home as planned. The sun may have been declining as it travelled down the Cambrian coast, but the enjoyment wasn't over so quickly.
Travel arrangements:
Return train journey from Macclesfield and Dyffryn Ardudwy. Changes on the outbound journey were at Stoke-on-Trent and Wolverhampton. On the way back, they were at Shrewsbury (due to the small matter of only two out of the four carriages continuing for Birmingham) and Wolverhampton.
A little something in monochrome
20th April 2010 The hazy conditions that pervaded while I mounted Moel Siabod on the way from Dolwyddelan to Capel Curig didn't make photography an easy pursuit. However, I still had well lit photos though the haziness made me wonder how they'd come out in black and white. Regular readers might remember the colour versions of these from a previous posting, but I thought that I'd share anyway. Maybe my approach to the world of monochrome should be more deliberate but, unless you try, you aren't going to learn what works and what doesn't. Then, you can imagine what results you might get. That might explain my trust in my ageing yet trusty Pentax K10D for image capturing duties: I have a good feel for what it does, and it helps when attempting to translate the scene that's in front of me into a photo.
A developing pattern?
19th April 2010 Unusually for me, my walking escapades seem to involve my reaching more summits than usually has been the case. In fact, finding some sort of hummock to ascend has formed part of my planning in the last few months. The most recent example of this was an out and back hike to Y Llethr from Dyffryn Ardudwy over the past weekend. That followed a yomp over Moel Siabod the previous weekend and there was an ascent of Diffwys in early February. Thus, three outings to Wales have come to pass so far this year and Terry Marsh's Great Mountain Days in Snowdonia (Cicerone) might inspire more yet.
Mark Richard's Great Mountain Days in the Lake District should be encouraging a few too but I only have January's spur of the moment crossing of Place Fell to record for 2010. Still, that now looks as if it was start of a pattern where reaching hilltops has been playing a large role in my hill country outings. Even when I went to Scotland, I ended up on a unnamed though snow blanketed foothill of Bynack More when I had intended to stay low (boggy ground stalled my initial scheme). As if to continue high level hiking, an Easter crossing of Baslow Edge, Curbar Edge and Froggatt Edge needs to be mentioned too. With all of this falling into place, it may be a matter of time before that first Munro gets ascended and there are a few candidates in the Cairngorms that have caught my eye but there's no rush on that one.
All of this action may look like peak bagging but that is an incidental upshot rather than the avowed aim of the exercise. If creating some list of hills climbed was the aim, I wouldn't be bobbing around the place in such an unplanned manner. Going up hills is for me a device for propelling me out of doors when the weather makes an offer. It used to be that exploring somewhere or a new angle to an old favourite did the job on its own but adding a hill top has been giving form to plans in place of finding a tempting path or track on a map. Quite where all this is leading me is another matter but I'll enjoy the countryside along the way and share that (and any decent photos that I make) with you afterwards. Now, I need to find time to say more about that flying visit to Y Llethr...
A weekend around Capel Curig
16th April 2010 With fine weather around and a good forecast, I made sure that I sorted something for the past weekend without letting it to the vagaries of Friday night planning, an at times fragile activity that is vulnerable to tiredness after an intense working week. Much to my surprise, I managed to book a bed in the Capel Curig YHA after drawing a blank there and at other hostels in the vicinity on previous attempts. That placed a pivot on the map of Wales for my route planning. With that there, I pencilled in a planned walk from Dolwyddelan that was to take in the summit of Carnedd Moel Siabod. With a need to get away early on Sunday, I didn't fancy my chances of getting in another hike, but I managed to fit in a yomp from Capel Curig to Betws-y-coed through woodland and over boggy terrain.
Saturday
After an early morning start from Macclesfield, I arrived in Dolwyddelan on a busy two carriage train with lively dogs across from me; the tail of one of them kept striking my newspaper and I didn't envy their owners when it came to controlling them. All the way there, the skies had a very hazy look about them, and it was no different around Dolwyddelan. It was a hint that the day wasn't going to be one for splendid photographic results, but I set to sorting myself out in the car park anyway. That act left any other interlopers that came off the train with me time to go on their merry way.
The start of my hike reprised a route that I followed around the same time last year. It started with a short hop along the road that took me over the Afon Lledr before crossing a field. Once over a not so busy A470, I pulled out my walking poles and set off uphill; they were set to stay in use all the way to Capel Curig.
Just because I wasn't gaining so much height on the lane up from the A470 did nothing to reduce the gradient, but it still wasn't as steep as I remembered it to be, and I was carrying a more laden rucksack on my back this time around! After that effort, a short stop was in order and I made out Dolwyddelan Castle in the near distance. Last year, I seem to have missed it for no reason that I can recall, so it was a matter set to rights.
With that initial steepness out of the way, the terrain became more level as I ambled along a forestry track. Moel Siabod, the prospect that jumped out of the Snowdonia member of Cicerone's Great Mountain Days series, loomed above me as if to let me know what awaited me, yet I wasn't to be deflected, even with the white streaks that were apparent. When I last passed the way, there were more folk about, but this occasion was much quieter; I was to meet no one until a few mountain bikers passed me as I approached the sign for Moel Siabod. Last year, I kept going for Capel Curig with mixed feelings, but Llyn Idwal was my ultimate destination that day, and I wasn't to be disappointed with either progress or surroundings.
This time, I lugged my heavy pack to the top of Moel Siabod with no misgivings, marked Carnedd Moel Siabod on OS Explorer maps. The mention of maps brings me to the subject of my having two maps available in a trouser cargo pocket. One of the problems with Moel Siabod is that it sits astride OL17 and OL18, and not all the paths around the hill are depicted either. Given that Harvey's Superwalker map of the area put the hummock in the middle and not at the edge, it came too, and a few more tracks are depicted on it too. However, it doesn't show my route from Dolwyddelan to Llyn Foel very well, so an OS map was at hand too. When you get different stories, you need to hear them all to get a fuller picture.
Before I could emerge into open country, I needed to pick my way though forestry, not my strongest point, but the track was clear up to its end and the path that took over was more than navigable too. The day was hot and sweat was coming out of me as I ascended the slopes until I exited the forest into boggy and craggy terrain. I knew that I had to cross the stream to my right but took a somewhat roundabout route before doing so; there's no need to do everything at once when some things can wait. It was from there that the gradient really sharpened, and I noticed two other walkers below me, the only ones that passed this way as I was making my ascent. They were far less laden, so I left them pass before continuing my sluggish course. Cataracts abounded, allowing opportunities for stopping and staring. Patience was needed, too, and it's so easy to become frustrated with not reaching your objective as soon as you'd like. Overestimating how high you are is another slippage to which I have succumbed, so I took it easy and left the shore of Llyn Foel come to me in its own good time.
Once there, I had a choice of going left or right. The former may have been the shorter journey, but I needed a break from hopping over stones and boulders, even if that took me over boggier ground. That it was to do so meant careful footwork of a different kind was in order until the drier ground leading to the flank of Daear Ddu allowed a chance of a rest. It became clear that I was onto more frequented turf by now, with folk passing by while I was stopped. You never could call it overrun, but remarks about a glorious day are always good to share.
Knowing that the ascent of Daear Ddu was ahead of me, I paced myself as I continued up as yet not unfriendly slopes. Though not marked on any map anyway, a path could be made out, and I followed that while using the widening views as a means for tracking progress. Dolwyddelan Castle and the Crimea Pass could be picked out below me as I scuttled up the steep hillside. Eventually, I even was led to believe that a sliver of Llyn Trawsfynydd was visible over hilltops. Progress was slow and not just for me. Another pair of walkers lost patience and went for a more direct approach to the summit, and guess who they met up there before them? A certain laden Irishman who wasn't that far above them when they went their own way. My more circuitous course demonstrated that direct routes aren't always that quick.
Though I needed to negotiate a boulder field and remnants of the past winter in the form of patches of snow, the fence that you see marked on an OS map came soon enough. While I was wondering if more clambering was ahead of me, another walker came and, after sharing a few words about the view, lobbed his Jack Russell terrier over that fence. Deciding to do the same, I followed while marvelling at all that I could pick out from the surrounding buckling of the landscape. Snowdon, Tryfan, Glyderau, Carneddau... The list grew on a day when haze meant that photographic capture was limited to record shots. Well, Snowdon is situated in a better place for morning photography from the Capel Curig side, so it's horses for courses. However, now I know what dome lay on the horizon when I looked east from the Miner's track to Snowdon's top a few years ago: Moel Siabod.
If it wasn't for the fact that I hadn't planned to stay the night, I might have been concerned by my arrival on Moel Siabod's summit at around 16:00, but I fitted in both the views and one of the boulder-strewn humps that are marked as Moel Siabod by the OS before heading down. Having had enough clambering done for any day, I left the other one or two after me, at least for now. One advantage of staying high for that little bit longer was that a downhill was plain to see. It also was the one that I planned to take to get onto an old pony track that was to take me down again. Even with my being at the gentler side of the hill, that didn't mean that I could go downhill willy-nilly. For one thing, the paths were stony and the gradients significant. Concentration remained of the essence.
With accommodation sorted and a few hours of daylight remaining, tiring limbs were not being rushed, but I was down in less than three hours all the same. Llynnau Mymbyr lay beneath me as I made for Coed Bryn-engan, through which I needed to pass before I was out on the A5. Though there were better routes through the wood, I wasn't going around in circles either, even after a long day on the hoof. Still, it wasn't before time that I got to the hostel to be given a room with no one else in there before me, a situation that never greeted me before. That gave me time to organise myself before anyone else appeared on the scene, and it was a full house later on, and a noisy one too. With all the tossing and turning above, I wondered at the wisdom of taking a lower bunk, but the night wasn't all sleepless either. Before all this, though, I had spent a superb hour sat on a rock next to Afon Llugwy as the light declined.
Sunday
An early start after a decent breakfast had me heading towards Betws-y-Coed with an eye on the time. There was a footpath that circuited the hostel via a nearby campsite that gained me some height with occasional sun lighting up the likes of Moel Siabod and Snowdon among others. Eventually, the going got boggier and navigation needed attention if I wasn't to end up going all the way to Llyn Crafnant and Trefriw in error. Looking at a map since then, revealed that would have covered the same distance and used a different bus at the other end, not the end of the world in other words. On the ground, it took time for my selected course to reveal that it was my intended one and not another. Sodden soft ground is not the best for navigational clarity, and a later map showing a permissive path on a gate had me scratching my head for a moment. All that map perusal and careful stepping cost me time, and it took an hour to reach forestry again.
Once among trees, the pace quickened, and I dropped onto a path to cut down on the distance travelled, though a trip landed me out on my elbows at one stage. Apart from another muddying go with that from an earlier ill-placed footing, there was no damage done and I crossed Afron Abrach and took to another forestry track. This followed the edge of the plantation, with Glyn Farm to my right. It also allowed good progress, and I later stayed on forest tracks by choosing to cross a road to meet another. The roar of the Swallow Falls (a mistranslation of the Welsh for "Foaming Cataract", apparently) come up from below me and I saw the nearby hotel too, a good sign that time was with me.
When I found another narrow road, I stuck with it for a little while, until wonderment about the wisdom of staying on it all the way to Betws-y-Coed led me onto a rough path that shadowed Afon Llugwy. The promise of a softer surface must have swung it, though I don't know if the ups and downs were all that kind. Having had enough, I returned to the road only to find public footpath signs and left it again. The way east from Miner's Bridge grew ever flatter and drier. As I neared my destination, the numbers of people typical of a honeypot were milling about. Quite what they made of a muddied walker with two sticks and a well filled rucksack is another matter. They were no impediment as I sought out my bus stop with more than half an hour to spare. There may have been outdoors stores, but I resisted their allure and stuck with popping into a Spar for some sustenance and the National Park centre for leaflets and gifts. A weekend spent in wilder surroundings ended among more genteel ones. How dull would life be if it wasn't full of such contrasts?
Travel arrangements:
Getting to Dolwyddelan was all by train, with changes at Manchester and Llandudno Junction. The non-running of trains on the Conwy Valley line on Sundays meant travelling to Llandudno Junction from Betws-y-Coed on the X84 before continuing by train with changes at Chester and Manchester. The bus service accepts train tickets, so there was no extra cost beyond the price of a return train ticket to Dolwyddelan.
