The Glyderau

I am continuing my report of the walks I did in Wales, May 2005, with a rather significant walk that had a lasting effect on me. 

Sunday 1st May 2005 

I wasn't sure which walk I would do on this day with a toss up between the Glyderau or Snowdon. The deciding factor was the weather, but as it turned out I got it all wrong. It was raining as I left Bangor so I decided that I didn't want to do Crib Goch in that sort of weather (just wait for the next day!) and after driving down the A5 to Llyn Ogwen I parked at the lay-by midway between the Idwal Cottage car park and Tryfan. As I prepared to start the weather cleared and the sun came out, which was good for that morning's walk, but a pity about the next day's walk over Crib Goch. I set off down the A5 till I was beneath the Milestone Buttress where I started to climb beside a stone wall and across the north face of Tryfan, and so began my ascent of the North Face of Tryfan, one of the best scrambles in Wales. The weather on this sunny Sunday morning was perfect, but I could sense trouble brewing on the higher hills. The Glyderau spent most of the morning in the clouds and the speed that those clouds were moving indicated that it was going to be very windy on the tops. 

The trick to climbing Tryfan by it's northern face is simply to take it one step at a time, so I just put my head down and tackled it one rocky ledge at a time until I was surprised to discover that I was at the top, which is unmistakable by the sight of two large columns of stone, known by the names Adam and Eve. The highest point of Tryfan is at the top of one or both of these rocks and since the height of Tryfan is 3002 feet you have not been over three thousand feet high until you have managed to climb onto one of these pillars. So feeling like I had an obligation I scrambled up onto the northerly of the two rocks, which is either Adam or Eve, I don’t know which one is which! It is said that you will earn yourself the freedom of Tryfan if you step from one pillar to the other, bearing in mind that they are over 2 metres above the rocky summit of Tryfan which itself is 2000 feet above the valley floor. This is not a step for the timid or vertiginous. Two years before this walk, when I climbed up Tryfan for the first, I daren't go onto either rock let alone step from one to the other. This time I was determined to do it, despite the fact it was blowing a gale. 

Crouching on the edge of the northerly stone I waited for just the right moment when the wind died down long enough for me to gather the nerve to step from Adam to Eve (or Eve to Adam). Eventually I made my step, but it was more of a leap from a crouching position on one rock across to a crouch on the other. It might not have been an actual step but it's close enough, isn't it? Feeling happy with myself I began my descent of Tyfan, which is potentially a more difficult undertaking than the ascent. Spurning the main route down I tried to stay on the top of the ridge all the way, ensuring that I passed over all the subsidiary peaks on my way. As I descended I came upon a difficult section that required that I swung around into the rock wall, but I swung too quickly and bashed my left knee into the wall. I received several bruises over this weekend, though most were not very painful, but my knee continued to complain for a long period afterwards whenever I went up or down stairs or whenever I was immobile in a chair. I felt like an old man, and for a long time I feared that my knee wouldn’t heel completely and I'd become like those people who are always complaining about their knees when walking. Fortunately, although my knees flared up again the year after I haven’t had any problems since. 

Undeterred by such problems I reached Bwlch Tryfan and turning left I followed a miner's track around the top of Cwm Tryfan to reach the col between Glyder Fach and Y Foel Goch. The latter was a hill that I had never been to before, so I crossed the boggy col and walked up to the top of Y Foel Goch, and then I turned around passing over the col again and began the ascent of Glyder Fach. The sun by now had gone in and would never be seen again on this walk, and with the wind as strong as ever the clouds began descending, which set the pattern for the rest of the day. The summit of Glyder Fach, though in the clouds, was well populated with a dozen or two people on or around the summit rocks. After my morning's scrambling practice on Tryfan I found it ridiculously easy to walk up or leap over the rocks to the highest point, quickly bypassing the people who were nervously making their way from rock to rock up to the top. 

As I made my way between Glyder Fach and Glyder Fawr I started to make a series of mistakes that wouldn't stop until I was on the other side of Glyder Fawr. This has became something of an infamous hill for me after this walk as I tried to go up it in total cloud cover without a compass. I had realised I'd left my compass in my car at some point during the morning but I didn't think I would need it in the clear weather, which was wrong. I believe my first mistake was turning south at Bwlch y Ddwy-Glyder and descending below Waun Gron. If I'd had my compass with me, my mistake would have immediately been obvious, but as it was when I finally realised it was too late to turn back. Eventually I decided that I would try to get to the summit whatever the means, so with a stubborn face I set off straight up the hillside trying to find the summit or at least a path and somehow, with a lot of luck in the worsening weather, I managed to drag myself up to the summit where I found a lump of rock with a cairn on top of it and people milling around. With great relief I collapsed in a heap and had my lunch. As I set off I resolved that I would keep to the path and not lose it again, but of course I quickly lost the path again and started to veer to the north. If I'd even just consulted my map I'd have seen that I needed to be going more west but without a compass I didn't know which direction I was going. I was totally lost descending a rocky slope that lead towards a sheer cliff face: the Upper Cliff of Glyder Fawr. As I got more and more lost I became more and more angry; I was furious with myself for leaving my compass in the car. I was adamant that I would never, ever, leave my compass behind again, if only I could get safely down. When I got to my wits end I started praying, which was something I really should have done earlier as I didn't have any other chance. Wainwright famously said that if you get lost in the mist on Haystacks in the Lake District your only option is to drop to your knees and pray. On the upper cliffs of Glyder Fawr I followed his instructions, and the clouds opened to reveal a clear path a long way below me. I wasn't sure what I was looking at, but I had some nasty suspicions. Feeling a little hopeful I asked the Lord to give me a better view and the clouds opened up even more to reveal a distinctly shaped lake, which a look at my map revealed was Llyn Idwal. I was going in completely the wrong direction and heading towards the top of a high cliff. Turning around I headed back up the steep slope until I reached a point where I could cross the stream that I had been following. Going around the side of the hill from that point I soon found my way down to the top of the Devil's Kitchen. A very dangerous detour had been averted by a divinely inspired parting of the clouds that revealed my true position. In the future, always remember to take your compass. 

Once at Llyn y Cwm I put aside any thoughts of returning straight to my car and headed up the clear path to Y Garn. I was now returning to my intended walk, heading north towards a collection of hills that I had never been to before, but which would entail a considerable diversion in order to bag. Despite my 'delay' on Glyder Fawr I felt the effort would be justified, so after finishing my climb to the top of Y Garn I continued north to the three hills that I wanted to bag. First was Foel-goch, then Mynydd Perfedd, and then across a rock strewn plain to Carnedd y Filiast. After my exertions of earlier in the day I had little energy left for these outlying hills but somehow I eventually managed to reach the last of these hill before turning around and going all the way back to Y Garn. With all my energy now completely depleted I struggled up the last steep slope to the top of Y Garn with the strong wind making each turn of the zigzag path either a blessing or a curse. With considerable relief I finally made it to the top again and began to descend the excellent north-eastern ridge of Y Garn around the top of Cwm Clyd. Despite an initially steep descent across a scree slope, the whole descent is relatively easy and quite enjoyable. I was able to relax and enjoy the walk down to Llyn Idwal where I joined the main footpath that took me to the toilets and shop near Idwal Cottage. A short walk along the A5 brought me back to my car, 9½ hours after I'd left it, which made this the longest walk I'd ever done up to that point, and almost my last. It was such a variable day! I had a fantastic ascent up Tryfan and an enjoyable walk over Glyder Fach, but it was off-set by bashing my knee on Tryfan and getting lost on Glyder Fawr. C’est la vie.