RECEPTION COMMITTEE BUT, WITH A SILVER LINING!

I had the whole farmer's family meet me on my return from a late winter's walk up Glasgwm and back. Having completely missed their newly created car park in Cwm Cywarch, I parked in the only spot I could find by their farmhouse.

It was 6.20 pm and they were obviously looking out for me, having seen the light from my headtorch coming down the hillside. I apologised if I had taken the wrong path through the farm but I hardly got the words out before they laid into me for starting the walk so late (2pm) and coming down in the dark. The farmer said that he hated people like me for putting the rescue services to such inconvenience and never having insurance. "If you can't find the car park, your map reading is crap and puts you in danger up the hill." The wife said that there had been a rescue of a walker further north in the national park that very day. I replied that I knew what I was doing and this afternoon's walk was part of my training . They were not impressed.

"Yet another stupid hill walker going out in bad weather with snow and ice everywhere", they must have thought.

Complete incomprehension by the locals for the sheer delight that some, like me, have for going out in what they think is a white hell, is a sheer white heaven for me!

What I should have said was "This is part of my continuous training in completing all the high hills in the UK and Ireland. I'm doing this kind of thing all the time; I'm properly equipped, with the right clothing; I'm qualified as a mountain leader in non snow conditions with the MLTB and I know this area like the back of my hand, having been here over many years in summer and winter conditions." I said none of that, however! Perhaps, that was just as well 'cos I had forgotten to take the ice axe out of the car, I was using instep crampons with my mt approach shoes, I didn't have insurance with the BMC and I very nearly didn't bother with taking the map (that I knew I didn't need to use, anyway). This was also my first major walk after four months of limping from an inflamed, weak tendon.

Three years ago, one of my party, in this very same valley, dialled 999 from her mobile when I lost my party who went steaming off without waiting for me to catch up. Aberdovey Outward Bound Mt Rescue were called out. We met them at the Red Lion in Dinas Mawddwy.

As I walked to the car after this harangueing, I saw that the farmer had put his Land Rover across the back of my car to make sure that I would have to call at the farmhouse to get out, anyway!

I then could not get the car started. I said to the farmer, "I now can't get the bloody car started. Could I make a free phone call from your landline, please?"

"It's a diesel isn't it? Try pumping the accelerator pedal up and down as you keep the key turning over the engine."

And that did the trick; no going into the farmhouse; no walking to the red kiosk 2 miles down the lane; and, no waiting for breakdown rescue. Brilliant! I didn't stop until I got to the the Brigands' Inn to change out of my mountain approach shoes and to take my coat off for the rest of the drive home.

1 January 2010

Too late, too rough, too tough ...

but ideal for the tough to get going!

On route to returning Jon to home after his first term at Aberystwyth Uni, the two of us tried out a Welsh circuit that is not recognised as such. We soon came across one or two little indications as to why it is so little walked!

On the south side of Tal-y-Llyn at the foot of Cadair Idris, we began the ascent from Corris Uchaf. There is good parking by the recycling facility and an unusual raised cabin on four legs! As you come out on to the main road, there is a cleverly built but very simple, stone sculpture of a long-beaked bird - just three or four stones built up on each other.

The going is rough with very few well defined paths or any paths at all. One huge tussock sent me shooting forwards, sprawling face down that even my very fine approach shoes, on their first outing, could not save me. Superb tread and some studs have revolutionised my walking on steep ground. What I thought were my newish boots were almost treadless I discovered after three slips on steep, wet grass above Cwm Cywarch a few weeks earlier. On that occasion, for the first time since my original left shoulder dislocation, I very nearly took the shoulder out again.

The route to the highest summit has an unexpected steep slope on the left that we carefully approached thinking that it was crags. Instead, it was not vertical but 70-80% of dead bracken, grass and heather.

Nearer to the summit of the 666m trig point, there is some fine, steep ground amongst high vegetation to climb that made me remark to Jon, "This is good training for Mt Blanc in June and the soft, deep snow we are likely to encounter." Over the steep ground, the hill flattens to the one metre higher 667m before the trig point is reached. We soon shot off again but found the forest would not let us through. We traversed round to the left over the shallow ridge that we should have followed from the summit and down the other side to gain the gate and forest road.

We jogged down the gentle slopes on the forest road. Jon photographed an abandoned car we came across. He commented, "It shows how quickly and easily nature takes over." We soon came out of the dark, forbidding forest and turned sharp right; only to find that the land disappeared that we needed to get down to have any hope of getting home! This was a second, very steep slope that we gingerly struggled down, holding onto rusty fencing while trying to avoid the rusty barbed wire that hung down and out on our side. What was worse, was a ribbon of white water at the bottom that was essential to cross to get back. Thankfully, 20 metres upstream, we found the swollen stream divided and the island formed allowed us to jump onto it and jump off the other side. This, finally, began the long return walk.

By now, I was kicking myself for starting so late - 1140 hours - and, not being more careful about packing in the rucsac two or more torches. All I had, for the two of us, was my £16 headtorch that worked intermittently, as I found out two weeks earlier. However, we made steady progress up grassy and sheep chewed slopes without ever getting to the top of the Graig Goch ridge. Felled forest way below to the right and some kind of path brought us to the head of a huge valley before us and the street lights of Corris Uchaf way out in the distance. Thankfully, before it got any darker, we saw a track on the far left hand side that would make our descent considerably easier. To our surprise, we very quickly came across the very beginning of the track that was out of sight when we saw the track far off to the left a few minutes earlier. This was a real God-send because this track was not marked on the map. An hour later, we were finally back on the main road, through the village and to the reassuring car, once more.

This was a challenging, adventurous walk that might be easier if the outward route continues to take in Graig Wen at 454 m and then down the N ridge to cross the river at the B road before the long climb up to Graig Goch at 586 metres. More should try it.