The Glyderau

Thursday 4th September 2003

I was in the middle of a week spent walking up the three thousand foot high mountains of Snowdonia and on the first day I had climbed two lesser known tops in Elidir Fawr and Y Garn before moving my attentions to the biggest of them all, and the one that lends its name to the whole park: Snowdon. I had such a great time going up Snowdon that I went up it again the day after, from a different direction, but after that I finally managed to tear myself away from that great mountain and continue bagging the other three thousand footers. I had so far bagged four and missed one, but I was undeterred in my goal to bag the other ten before the end of the week, and on this walk I managed to bag three more. These days I’m not so obsessed with bagging the top of mountains as I’ve found that the best bits of a mountain are invariably not at the summit, and even the view is often better lower down than on a broad summit plateau.

At this early stage in my walking career I hadn’t grasped this truth yet, so on a gloriously hot and sunny day I set off from the Ogwen Cottage car park along a popular path that climbs into the stunning surrounds of Cwm Idwal. After passing rock-climbers on the cliffs above Llyn Idwal I climbed steeply into the excitingly rocky landscape of the Devil’s Kitchen, called in Welsh as Twll Du, the Black Hole. I had a thrilling climb through the Black Hole, despite sweating copiously from the heat and eventually emerged from the rock gully onto a shallow depression with Llyn y Cŵm a short distance away. Before reaching the lake I turned left up a vast, dreary landscape of loose stones that eventually ended on a broad summit plateau that is littered with large collections of rocks. One of these was the summit of Glyder Fawr, the highest point in the Glyderau, the collective name for the mountain range between Nant Peris and Llyn Ogwen.

Since I was unsure which collection of rocks was the summit I visited all of them so I could be sure of actually bagging the summit, such is the stupidity of summit bagging. Continuing east from the summit I dropped gradually down to Bwlch y Ddwy Glyder before a short, sharp, rocky climb brought me up to the summit of Glyder Fach. Before visiting the summit I had to stop by the weirdly shaped rock formations of Castell y Gwynt and climb to the top of them where I had views across the Glyderau and beyond, back to Snowdon and onward to the Carneddau. The top of Glyder Fach drew my eye as it features a seemingly precarious rock known as the Cantilever Stone where one can amazingly defy gravity by standing at the end without the whole thing toppling over.

The summit of Glyder Fach is a much more interesting place than its higher neighbour Glyder Fawr so it attracts many more visitors, despite not having the characteristics that would give it Munro status, if it was in Scotland. Eventually I left the summit and made my way across the rock strewn landscape past the top of Bristly Ridge to a steep scree slope with a drop of over 600 hundred feet, which was not a very pleasant descent as I gingerly made my way down the loose stones carefully trying to not let the stones slip from under my foot. In all my subsequent visits to this area I have avoided this scree slope by either going around it on the Miner’s Track or above it scrambling along the top of the Bristly Ridge.

At the bottom of the huge scree slope is Bwlch Tryfan with the awesomely shaped mountain of Tryfan beyond it. There are very few mountains in Britain that can’t be summited without simply walking, and Tryfan is one of those. On this occasion I took the easiest route up, which is a grade 1 scramble that involves climbing the rocks around the Far South Peak before climbing a steep gully up to the summit. I remember sitting at the summit below the two large rocks, known as Adam and Eve, that sit on top of the mountain, and becoming very nervous about the sheer drops around me. I’m not great with heights so I was uneasy sitting on such a narrow summit with such long drops not from where I sat. It wasn’t long before I got back onto my feet and made my way back down the mountain. In subsequent years I have taken the more challenging route up the north ridge of Tryfan, and even jumped between Adam and Eve, but I’ve never gotten over my unease at sheer drops, which probably keeps me out of danger.

Slowly I made my way back down the distinctively shaped mountain to Bwlch Tryfan where I dropped down the path that passes the Australia-shaped lake of Llyn Bochlwyd before dropping steeply down the northern slopes back to Ogwen Cottage. I was lucky to have such good weather for my first walk in the fabulous rock-filled landscape of the Glyderau as for one who enjoys walking in rugged, rocky scenery I was overwhelmed with delight at the abundance of rock in the Glyderau. Rock-climbers are well catered for in this area, and even for us mere mortals it is an area with plenty of safe, but thoroughly enjoyable, walking opportunities. I always enjoy my walking in this area, especially when the weather is good, but the most tragic thing about this area is that it is now almost five years since I last did any walking there. That surely is something that I must correct at my earliest opportunity.

Snowdon for the second time

Wednesday 3rd September 2003

The day before this walk I climbed Snowdon for the first time taking a roundabout route over the western hills before climbing to the top along the Snowdon Ranger Path, while my descent route was in a roughly northerly direction down the Llanberis Path. The day after that first ascent of Snowdon I climbed the mountain again, and this time I came up from the south and down towards the east. I don’t know whether I’d always planned on climbing Snowdon twice or whether the poor weather I’d experienced the previous day convinced me to try again, though it certainly wouldn’t be the only time I try something similar: in 2007 I climbed Ben Lawers in terrible weather only to climb it again from the opposite direction in considerably better weather the day after. Perhaps what I’d seen of Snowdon the first time was enough to convince me to climb the mountain again. Snowdon has had an odd pull for me and has drawn me back year after year when other mountains have been shamelessly ignored.

Whatever the reason for my return I parked in the car park in Nant Gwynant and headed up the Watkin Path, which the Snowdonia National Park website explains was “named after Sir Edward Watkin, Liberal Member of Parliament and railway entrepreneur who retired to a chalet in Cwm Llan on the foothills of Snowdon. A track to the South Snowdon Slate Quarry through Cwm Llan already existed, so to enable visitors to walk all the way up Snowdon, Edward Watkin created a path from the quarry to the summit. The path was officially opened in 1892 by the Prime Minister William Gladstone, who was 83 years old at the time. He addressed a crowd of over 2000 people from a rock on the side of the path, which is known today as the Gladstone Rock.” The path is very pleasant as it climbs past picturesque waterfalls into Cwm Llan and past the Gladstone Rock and the remains of the quarry before climbing steeply up the hillside.

I remember being desperate for a drink on this climb because I’d forgotten to fill a bottle with water before I started so half way up the path I stopped at a fast-moving stream to fill my bottle. I’d done this earlier in the year in the Lake District when I’d ran out of water due to the hot weather and now I was able to replenish my thirst from the water pouring down the side of Snowdon’s neighbour, Y Lliwedd. I will always fill my water bottle before starting a walk if possible, but so long as certain precautions are taken stream water can be used, and sterilising tablets are available, even though I’ve never used them. This water must have been really revitalising as I then zoomed up the steeply zigzagging hillside, so fast that an old man resting at the top commented on my speed when I reached him. I had no answer for him, but ten years later I’m sure I’d be slower now.

At Bwlch Ciliau, a level stretch of walking led me to the loose screes on the steep slopes below the summit of Snowdon and on this occasion low cloud. Although the weather was better than the day before I still didn’t have a view from the summit and I had to negotiate the complex screes in poor visibility. Eventually I reached the summit of Snowdon where I was able to visit the view-finder at the very top and explore the old summit building that has now been replaced with a new building, and I’m not sorry to see the old building go. The day before I had walked across Bwlch Glas and reached Snowdon’s twin, Garnedd Ugain, at the same time as two men who had just reached the top from the opposite direction having just traversed the knife-edged Crib Goch. They would have been impressed if I’d also the started the traverse of Crib Goch on my own, but I didn’t. The day after, and in better weather, I still didn’t attempt it.

Instead I turned right at the bottom of Bwlch Glas onto the Pyg Track, one of the most popular routes up Snowdon, and in my opinion the best. I have walked along the Pyg Track many times and always enjoyed it, despite what the weather may be doing. By this time the weather was much better with the summit of Snowdon, now that I was not at it, clear of clouds and revealing a gloriously sunny day. Despite my disappointment I was able to have an enjoyable walk down the satisfyingly craggy Pyg Track that led me all the way down to the car park at Pen-y-Pass. These days there is a good bus service around Snowdon that links all the car parks, but I’m not sure if this was the case in 2003. Instead, a thoroughly enjoyable walk took me down the hill beside the Afon Trawsnant, joining the Afon Glaslyn at the Glaslyn Hydro-electric works and through beautiful unspoilt countryside, past Llyn Gwynant, all the way back to my car in Nant Gwynant.

This was a much better walk than the day before, partly because of the better weather, but mainly because of the far superior routes. The Watkin Path and the Pyg Track are easily the best of the six main routes up Snowdon and on this walk I was able to enjoy their delights for the first time. Snowdon continued to draw me with my third visit the following February when the weather was astonishingly good with clear blue skies all day, stunning views from the summit and, surprisingly for February, not a trace of snow. Ever since I have been drawn back to Snowdon every year, although in recent years the summit has become so crowded I have been put off from climbing it so I didn’t climb Snowdon in 2013, the first year I haven’t been to the top since I first climbed the mountain in 2003, but I’m sure it won’t be long before I feel the pull again and brave the crowds.

Snowdon for the first time

Tuesday 2nd September 2003

Over the last ten years I have been up to the top of Snowdon more times than any other mountain, so it is astonishing to consider that the first time I climbed Snowdon wasn’t until the beginning of September 2003. Up until that week I had never done any walking in Snowdonia and I started the week with two lesser known, but still three thousand feet high, mountains in Elidir Fawr and Y Garn. On the first full day of my holiday in Snowdonia I wasted no time in turning my attention towards Snowdon, the highest mountain in Wales and considerably higher than any mountain in England. There are many different routes up Snowdon ranging from the easiest route that starts in Llanberis to the most challenging routes that start from Pen-y-Pass and Nant Gwynant. I had stayed the night in the Llanberis Youth Hostel, but rather than climb Snowdon on the popular Llanberis Path I elected to climb Snowdon for the first time by a totally unorthodox route that passes over the foothills to the west of the mountain.

I believe the reason for my desire to include these western foothills was because of a desire at the time to climb all the mountains in Wales, which is something that I’d already done in South Wales and I was now turning my attention to North Wales. Although I referred to them as foothills, the first and highest hill, Moel Eilio, is two thirds of the height of Snowdon and no mere mound. The Llanberis Youth Hostel overlooks the village and from there I climbed steep, narrow lanes to Maen-llwyd-isaf where a track leads across the slopes to several disused slate quarries. Before reaching the quarries, and at the highest point on the track, I turned left and started to climb the broad heather-clad ridge of Bryn Mawr that eventually ends at the cairn on top of Moel Eilio, but looking at the map, I wonder if the north-eastern ridge of Braich y Foel would be a more interesting ascent route. When I did this route again up Snowdon in 2010 I followed the same route that I’d taken in 2003, so if I was to do the western hills route up Snowdon for a third time I would be able to discover whether Braich y Foel is a better way up.

The weather in 2003 was no better than it had been in 2010 when it was cold, wet and windy. Despite the low cloud I continued over the top of Moel Eilio and down to Bwlch Cwm Cesig before passing over a succession of small hills to Bwlch Maesgwm. Beyond the pass I started to climbi the steep slopes of Moel Cynghorion, a hill that I bypassed in 2010. This was a tiring climb to the top of the hill and an even steeper descent to Bwlch Cwm Brwynog on the other side and I gained nothing for my effort except a tick on a list. It is a common activity among hill-walkers to compile lists of hills that follow certain criteria and then climb just those hills that are on their list. In 2003 I was doing exactly that in climbing Moel Eilio and Moel Cynghorion, but these days I am more motivated to find stunning scenery and good climbs.

At Bwlch Cwm Bwynog I joined the Snowdon Ranger Path, one of the six right-of-ways up Snowdon, which climbs the mountain up the north-western ridge above the northern cliffs of Clogwyn Du’r Arddu. After an initial steep, craggy climb that zigzags onto the top of the ridge, the path is pretty straight-forward, which was fortunate as the weather was not getting any better with visibility severely reduced. I thought I could hear, through the mist, the sound of a steam train working hard, climbing the mountain and soon I reached the tracks with the Llanberis Path not far beyond it. A short climb up the Llanberis Path, beside the Snowdon Mountain Railway, brought me up to the summit of Snowdon, somewhere I have since visited many times in many different weathers. This was definitely not the best weather I would ever have for going up Snowdon so it wasn’t long before I dropped back down to the railway platform and entered the summit café.

At that time the building at the top of Snowdon was a dilapidated old building that had been criticised by many including Prince Charles who described it as the highest slum in Wales. I don’t remember much about that old building, but one thing I do remember vividly from this occasion was dense mist billowing into the building through the open door, and the long queues for the toilets (the latter hasn’t changed). After spending much time exploring the summit of Snowdon I headed back down the Llanberis Path, continuing all the way down on the trail into the village of Llanberis while the weather continued to be unpleasant with rain accompanying me for much of the way down. Snowdon is a very special mountain that is always a delight to climb no matter what the weather. I have been up there many times since and it wasn’t long before I climbed Snowdon for a second time.

Elidir Fawr and Y Garn

Monday 1st September 2003

With no new walks to report I’m going to describe my first ever walking holiday in Snowdonia. At this point in my walking experience I had done a lot of walking in the Peak District and the Brecon Beacons, and I’d been to the Lake District twice, but I’d never been to Snowdonia despite the summit of Snowdon being the most visited mountain-top in Britain. In late summer 2003 I finally made my way to Snowdonia and set out to climb all fifteen mountains above three thousand feet, and failed in that task due to omitting a notable top. I didn’t make any notes during this holiday and I didn’t take any pictures, so since it was over ten years ago I may have difficulty remembering every little detail about the week. However, I seem to recall a surprising amount of things about the holiday and assuming I’m not getting it mixed up with subsequent visits I should have plenty to write about.

My first target was not one of the more well-known mountains, but a couple of infrequently visited mountains that lie north of the valley of Nant Peris. I think I chose to walk up these mountains first because I had spent most of the morning driving to North Wales so I only had time for a shorter walk that could be done during the afternoon. The first thing I remember about this holiday is that I had forgotten my map and compass. I don’t remember when I realised that I’d forgotten them, but it must have been while I was in the car park in Nant Peris preparing to set off. Rather than abandon the walk before I’d even started I set off regardless relying on my memory of the map that I’d left at home. I crossed the road and somehow managed to find my way through Old Llanberis and onto a track that climbs the hillside beside the Afon Dudodyn. Eventually I crossed the stream, where I filled my water-bottle (though why it needed filling or why I still remember that is unfathomable), and started to climb the steep grassy slopes of Elidir Fawr.

This was a long tiring climb with no path to follow but lots of scree and rocks to clamber over. Part way up I got a call from home to inform me that I’d left my map there, but this was not news to me and surprisingly I didn’t seem to need it. As far as I can remember the weather was good, though the summit of Elidir Fawr may have been covered with clouds, but on such a narrow ridge this wasn’t a problem. I climbed straight up the scattered rocks that abundantly cover the area and eventually reached the top and then, after a rest, I set off along the ridge eastwards. Tragically I have been to the top of Elidir Fawr just once since this walk, way back in 2006, when I was similarly endeavouring to visit all fifteen three thousand metre tops in Wales, and similarly failed. Why is completing a list the only reason to visit this fabulous mountain? The weather on that day was poor with no view from the summit, but a picture that I took in 2006 from Bwlch y Marchlyn shows how narrow is the thrilling ridge.

I probably had better weather for my first visit as I crossed the narrow ridge and skirted below Mynydd Perfedd before climbing to the top of Foel-goch. The ridge broadens after this and easy walking beyond led me to the final climb of the day zig-zagging up to the summit of Y Garn, my second Munro-sized mountain of the day. I have no idea what it was like at the summit or anything else about the walk at this point. I think my descent route was a basic straight down the western slopes into Cwm Gafr following a right of way that is marked on maps and ends in Nant Peris. Despite not having a map for this walk I seem to have managed surprisingly well. In clear weather the place where a map is most needed is in the valleys, so you can find the right path onto the open hillside, but I seem to have been able to find my way up without a map, perhaps from memory, though it may have taken me several attempts.

I guess I was lucky that the weather wasn’t worse and that the route was clear. I wasn’t so lucky for the rest of the holiday, so a map was urgently needed and Joe Brown’s in Llanberis was happy to furnish me with a new map and compass. I seem to recall asking for a GPS, but for some reason I didn’t get one, possibly because Joe Brown’s didn’t stock them. Whatever the reason it would be another three years before I finally bought a GPS and that was a very basic one that I have never felt the need to replace (or use very often). A GPS is a handy tool to have, but is no replacement for a good map and compass, and even more importantly the ability to use them. On this holiday I put that to the test.