The Brecon Beacons
Monday 4th September 2000
Before this holiday I had no clear idea where I would be walking except for a few vague ideas. The day before I went I wrote in my diary: “I am still unsure on a schedule. I have a number of activities planned, but no definite order in which to do them.” One of the goals for the week was Pen y Fan, the highest point in the Brecon Beacons, but it soon became apparent that the best weather of the holiday was going to be on the first day so after a prolonged drive I eventually arrived at the car park by the Storey Arms (an Outdoor Pursuits Centre). With a starting height of 425m this is an ideal place to start since almost half the height of the climb has already been achieved before you start. Following the crowds I walked up the wide track that climbs the broad slopes of Y Gryn past a memorial obelisk and finally up to the summit of Corn Du. From the top a short walk took me across to the summit of Pen y Fan, the highest mountain in either England or Wales south of Snowdonia, and the highest hill I’d ever been up at that point.
From the summit of Pen y Fan I descended the steep slope above Craig Cwm Sere and as far as I can recall I bypassed the adjacent top of Cribyn. At the bottom of the saddle, known as Bwlch ar y Fan, on the far side of Cribyn, I turned right onto a wide track that I followed down to the dam for the disused Lower Neuadd Reservoir. I remember the weather was good for this walk and I had a really pleasant walk down the gentle slope while enjoying the views behind me of the Brecon Beacons. After crossing the dam I climbed the slope opposite all the way up to the top of the steep edged ridge of Graig Fan Ddu. I now turned back towards the Brecon Beacons and walked along the ridge towards the tops, but just before reaching Corn Du I turned left down a path that quickly drops down the grassy hillside back to the road. This must have been a fabulous walk but I don’t remember it leaving much of an impression on me. My diary entry, once I got home at the end of the week, described this as being a “nice walk.” The only thing that I could have had against it was that it was rather short with the climb to the top being altogether too easy.
The Black Mountains
Tuesday 5th September 2000
The next day I was back in the familiar territory of the Black Mountains, but it was now wet and misty. This was actually the first time that I can remember walking through low-lying clouds with low visibility, and I quickly got a thorough lesson in the perils of walking in such conditions. It was already rather late (I’ve no idea why) when I set off and soon I lost the path I’d wanted. I believe I had started at the top of the Gospel Pass and after passing over Hay Bluff I wanted to go over Black Hill but instead I kept to the more prominent Offa’s Dyke Path. It wasn’t long, however, before I lost even that path in a stony area where the way is not clear across the stones. Eventually I found the path again and proceeded along it, but in the wrong direction! I don’t know if I’d failed to look at my compass or whether it wasn’t working properly, but it wasn’t until I reached the turning towards Hay Bluff that I realised that I’d already come this way. By this time it was far too late to go over Black Hill, as originally intended, so I returned along the Offa’s Dyke Path.
Eventually I reached the pile of stones that marks the top of the wonderful path down into the valley that has drawn me to this area ever since my first visit there in 1999. This was to be my first descent of the path after previously twice ascending the path and making a mistake both times, and it was only now in descent that I found where I should have been going. One thing I distinctly remember on this descent is being amazed at the trousers I was wearing (!). Previous walks had been done wearing jeans, which are not the best thing to wear as when it rains they get very heavy and cling to your legs. I was now wearing tracksuit bottoms and I was amazed at how easy it was to bend my legs even when the trousers were saturated. From this point on I would never wear jeans on a walk again.
Eventually I reached the tranquil hamlet of Capel y Ffin where, according to my diary, it would appear that I walked along the road all the way up the valley back to my car at the top of the Gospel Pass. I do remember walking along the road on one occasion so I guess this must have been it. As it turned out this walk was similar to the one that I’d done the year before as my first ever walk up a mountain (that is up a hill that is more than two thousand feet high). On paper this may have been a very short walk where I made some quite bad mistakes, but I learnt so much from this walk that it was significantly another step in helping me gain confidence in mountain walking, in any weather.
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