Monday 26th August 2019
As part of my nostalgia tour of Wales to celebrate twenty years since my first hill walk I was in the Brecon Beacons National Park to do a walk that I first completed in 2003 up the Black Mountain. The next time I did a walk up the Black Mountain was in 2009 while I was doing a highlights tour of Wales for my tenth anniversary, and on that occasion I did a similar walk but in the opposite direction, and I have not been back since. The Black Mountain is amongst the least visited areas of the park for me and every time I have walked up it I have headed for the north-eastern corner where the highest point can be found and completely ignored most of the rest of this vast upland area. I had considered going to the western tip of the mountain until I decided that the best way to honour the walks that I have done in the past was to cover the same ground. Therefore on a hot Bank Holiday Monday I drove from a misty Brecon over the pass into the sunny upper Tawe valley.
As before I parked near the Gwyn Arms and set off across the lovely wooded gorge of the Avon Haffes and up onto the open hillside. It was already hot as I toiled up the hill into the vast hinterland of the Black Mountain with hardly any wind and the sweat was pouring off me. In 2003 I had diverted off the main path to explore the various shallow tops in the area all with a scattering of limestone outcropping, but now with the heat I didn’t feel as if I had the energy. I was walking through a fascinating area of shake holes following a track between Castell y Geifr and Twyn Du in the middle of the thin band of limestone that runs across the south of the park. The rock that dominates the Brecon Beacons National Park is red sandstone as I saw the day before on the highest peaks. Eventually the gradient eased and a slight breeze developed that cooled me sufficiently to encourage me to leave the path and head towards the top of Disgwylfa that lies near the northern edge of the band of limestone.
When I reached the small, scattered limestone pavements at the top I had a great view west across the Black Mountain towards other limestone-covered tops such as Cefn Carn Fadog and Foel Fraith. Descending back onto the path I continued north crossing the Afon Giedd and after climbing over a shallow hill I left the limestone behind to drop down to the Afon Twrch. After crossing the river I branched off the main path to take an increasingly faint track through the grass that headed up the hill to the north. Instead of following a compass bearing I was following this sheep trod that turned around the side of the hill so eventually I came to my senses and turned north up the vast, grassy, featureless slopes. This was a very tiring and demoralising toil up the hill towards a top that I could not see and that never seemed to get any closer, but eventually, and with much relief, I reached the north-eastern escarpment of the Black Mountain.
There I found stunning views across the steep slopes below Bannau Sir Gaer that were amazing and compensated for the exhausting climb up a pathless hill. At the cairn on the nearby 677 metre top at the western end of the escarpment I stopped to have my lunch before heading off along the path beside the steep drop with extensive, but misty views north although my eye, and my camera, was only looking along the escarpment. After passing over Picws Du I had to endure a steep descent to Bwlch Blaen-Twrch, but it was the steep climb up the other side in the hot weather that really wore me out and made me think it was too hot for mountain walking. On reaching the top of Fan Foel I turned south with the escarpment and found a headwind that kept me cool as I made my way up to the highest point on the Black Mountain, Fan Brycheiniog.
From this point the walk was an absolute delight as I followed the escarpment down to Bwlch Giedd ignoring the clear path that descends steeply down the escarpment and I had climbed in 2009 to continue along the Fan Hir ridge with stunning views ahead of me towards the Tawe valley and back along the edge. This long descent was effortless with a cool breeze and a gentle gradient all the way down to the bottom of the valley. It is debateable whether this walk would have been better in the other direction as although that would have eliminated the long climb to Bannau Sir Gaer it would have robbed me of the glorious descent down Fan Hir, so ultimately I think that tedious, pathless climb is unavoidable. This was a fabulous walk in fabulous weather, but it was a little too hot when I didn’t have a cooling breeze.
This is a blog of my many walks around Britain and Ireland, usually published weekly
Thursday, 26 September 2019
Thursday, 19 September 2019
Brecon Beacons
Sunday 25th August 2019
During my holiday in Wales I was revisiting some of the great walks that I have done over the last twenty years in Wales to celebrate the twentieth anniversary of my first ever hill walk, which was in the Black Mountains in the Brecon Beacons National Park. I had planned to stay in the Black Mountains for the second walk of my holiday but the weather over the bank holiday weekend was amazing and could not be wasted. With not a cloud in the sky I thought I would take advantage of the good weather and go up the Brecon Beacons, the highest hills that lend their name to the whole park. This walk was inspired by one that I did in 2003 when I parked beside Talybont Reservoir and climbed over the hills to the east of the Brecon Beacons. I was now staying in the Brecon Beacons Danywenallt Youth Hostel, which sits at the foot of the dam for the reservoir, not far from where I’d started in 2003, so now I just started from the hostel walking across the dam. After a short walk along the road away from the reservoir and passing sweet smelling, though invasive, balsam I turned up a narrow road marked “To the hill”, and once off the road passed along a lovely tree-lined path to emerge onto the open hillside and climb a wide path through bracken. Despite my early start it was already quite hot so I was soon sweating as I toiled up the path to reach the heather covered top of Twyn Du.
There, I now had a little wind and gentler slopes so happily made my way along the path towards a prominent hill ahead of me until the gradient steepened once again and I was plagued by flies during the hot, sweaty climb to the majestic pile of stones called Carn Pica. It was difficult enough climbing this steep hill in the hot weather but to have swarms of flying insects buzzing around me at the same time made this particularly arduous. Once at the cairn there was relatively flat terrain before me and thanks to a little breeze mercifully hardly any flies. After passing over the gentle rise of Waun Rydd the view opened up to reveal my destination on the horizon: the Brecon Beacons, and with a good gravel path under my feet this was a wonderfully relaxing walk. Dropping down to the top of Cwm Cwareli I followed the escarpment above the steep cliffs of Craig Cwareli and later Craig Cwmoergwm, while in the distance under clear blue skies the Brecon Beacons kept drawing me on. Eventually I reached the top of Fan y Bîg where I found a large swarm of flying ants hovering over the hot summit rocks, and ahead of me the prospect of a steep descent down to Bwlch ar y Fan.
The day before I had endured a painful descent when coming down Black Hill in the Black Mountains, due to my having forgot to bring my walking poles for this holiday. To prevent any problems on this walk I was wearing knee supports, which I had remembered to bring, and they worked wonders in limiting the pain to barely a whimper. At the bottom of the pass I continued along the ridge steeply climbing to the top of Cribyn while a keen wind kept both the flies at bay and prevented my overheating. During my frequent stops for a breath I took a look at the views and noticed that the Upper Neuadd Reservoir in the valley to the south was empty, which I remembered being full on my previous visits to the area, although they were all a long time ago. The summit of Cribyn was also plagued by flies so I soon headed down to the col and was reminded of my first visit to the Brecon Beacons in 2000 when I had bypassed Cribyn taking the clear path around the southern slopes. From the bottom I now had an even steeper climb all the way up to the top of Pen y Fan, which is not only the highest point in the Brecon Beacons, but the highest point in Britain south of Snowdonia. As such it draws crowds of people, especially when the weather is good, and on this occasion the summit was packed, with long lines swarming up the paths from the Storey Arms.
When I finally, wearily, reached the summit I did not stay but quickly crossed over to its neighbour, Corn Du, and from there turned south away from the crowds. It always amazes me how some mountains draw the non-walker or tourist walker, while most mountains are ignored, and good weather on a bank holiday weekend had ensured that Pen y Fan was at its busiest, so I quickly hurried away. The ridge south, however, was swarming, not with people, but with flying ants. This is a relatively rocky ridge and the flies were in abundance in many places on the path, but I wasn’t bothered by this and since I knew that the last of my steep climbs were over, and with a flat ridge to walk upon, I was in buoyant mood feeling as if I had tonnes of energy left. The day before I had become tired long before the end of the walk, but now I felt I could walk for many more miles, as indeed I would have to do as there was still a long way for me to go. I had an enjoyable walk along that rocky ridge beside the edge overlooking the Taf Fechan valley, and ignored the faint, eroded path down, when I eventually reached it, that I had taken in 2000, in favour of the better path further on that is the route I have taken ever since. I remember this path down as also being badly scarred, but some good repair walk has now been carried out on the steep descent that took me down into the heat at the bottom of the valley.
As I approached, I noticed that the Lower Neuadd Reservoir was empty, like the upper one, but here there was restoration work being carried out on the dam, which meant I couldn’t walk across. Instead I followed a muddy temporary path that took me around to the other side of the valley where I followed a bridlepath along the route of the Taff Trail, briefly up a road and then turned right into an initially felled plantation onto the route of an old railway. This provided me with a very long, but relaxing walk through the Talybont Forest around the southern slopes above Talybont Reservoir all the way back to the hostel. This was a fabulous walk in really good weather where I benefited from staying high for much of the walk, which kept me away from the worst of the heat until eventually I descended for the long walk out. I have very little memory of the walk I did in 2003, but the comment in my diary at the time that it was “around the hills east of the Brecon Beacons” indicates that the walk I had just done was not the walk I did in 2003. When I was doing this walk I assumed that I had done it before, but when I checked afterwards I realised that I hadn’t. This was a fairly strenuous walk, but I thoroughly enjoyed it as I walked over the awesome mountains of the Brecon Beacons in tremendous weather.
During my holiday in Wales I was revisiting some of the great walks that I have done over the last twenty years in Wales to celebrate the twentieth anniversary of my first ever hill walk, which was in the Black Mountains in the Brecon Beacons National Park. I had planned to stay in the Black Mountains for the second walk of my holiday but the weather over the bank holiday weekend was amazing and could not be wasted. With not a cloud in the sky I thought I would take advantage of the good weather and go up the Brecon Beacons, the highest hills that lend their name to the whole park. This walk was inspired by one that I did in 2003 when I parked beside Talybont Reservoir and climbed over the hills to the east of the Brecon Beacons. I was now staying in the Brecon Beacons Danywenallt Youth Hostel, which sits at the foot of the dam for the reservoir, not far from where I’d started in 2003, so now I just started from the hostel walking across the dam. After a short walk along the road away from the reservoir and passing sweet smelling, though invasive, balsam I turned up a narrow road marked “To the hill”, and once off the road passed along a lovely tree-lined path to emerge onto the open hillside and climb a wide path through bracken. Despite my early start it was already quite hot so I was soon sweating as I toiled up the path to reach the heather covered top of Twyn Du.
There, I now had a little wind and gentler slopes so happily made my way along the path towards a prominent hill ahead of me until the gradient steepened once again and I was plagued by flies during the hot, sweaty climb to the majestic pile of stones called Carn Pica. It was difficult enough climbing this steep hill in the hot weather but to have swarms of flying insects buzzing around me at the same time made this particularly arduous. Once at the cairn there was relatively flat terrain before me and thanks to a little breeze mercifully hardly any flies. After passing over the gentle rise of Waun Rydd the view opened up to reveal my destination on the horizon: the Brecon Beacons, and with a good gravel path under my feet this was a wonderfully relaxing walk. Dropping down to the top of Cwm Cwareli I followed the escarpment above the steep cliffs of Craig Cwareli and later Craig Cwmoergwm, while in the distance under clear blue skies the Brecon Beacons kept drawing me on. Eventually I reached the top of Fan y Bîg where I found a large swarm of flying ants hovering over the hot summit rocks, and ahead of me the prospect of a steep descent down to Bwlch ar y Fan.
The day before I had endured a painful descent when coming down Black Hill in the Black Mountains, due to my having forgot to bring my walking poles for this holiday. To prevent any problems on this walk I was wearing knee supports, which I had remembered to bring, and they worked wonders in limiting the pain to barely a whimper. At the bottom of the pass I continued along the ridge steeply climbing to the top of Cribyn while a keen wind kept both the flies at bay and prevented my overheating. During my frequent stops for a breath I took a look at the views and noticed that the Upper Neuadd Reservoir in the valley to the south was empty, which I remembered being full on my previous visits to the area, although they were all a long time ago. The summit of Cribyn was also plagued by flies so I soon headed down to the col and was reminded of my first visit to the Brecon Beacons in 2000 when I had bypassed Cribyn taking the clear path around the southern slopes. From the bottom I now had an even steeper climb all the way up to the top of Pen y Fan, which is not only the highest point in the Brecon Beacons, but the highest point in Britain south of Snowdonia. As such it draws crowds of people, especially when the weather is good, and on this occasion the summit was packed, with long lines swarming up the paths from the Storey Arms.
When I finally, wearily, reached the summit I did not stay but quickly crossed over to its neighbour, Corn Du, and from there turned south away from the crowds. It always amazes me how some mountains draw the non-walker or tourist walker, while most mountains are ignored, and good weather on a bank holiday weekend had ensured that Pen y Fan was at its busiest, so I quickly hurried away. The ridge south, however, was swarming, not with people, but with flying ants. This is a relatively rocky ridge and the flies were in abundance in many places on the path, but I wasn’t bothered by this and since I knew that the last of my steep climbs were over, and with a flat ridge to walk upon, I was in buoyant mood feeling as if I had tonnes of energy left. The day before I had become tired long before the end of the walk, but now I felt I could walk for many more miles, as indeed I would have to do as there was still a long way for me to go. I had an enjoyable walk along that rocky ridge beside the edge overlooking the Taf Fechan valley, and ignored the faint, eroded path down, when I eventually reached it, that I had taken in 2000, in favour of the better path further on that is the route I have taken ever since. I remember this path down as also being badly scarred, but some good repair walk has now been carried out on the steep descent that took me down into the heat at the bottom of the valley.
As I approached, I noticed that the Lower Neuadd Reservoir was empty, like the upper one, but here there was restoration work being carried out on the dam, which meant I couldn’t walk across. Instead I followed a muddy temporary path that took me around to the other side of the valley where I followed a bridlepath along the route of the Taff Trail, briefly up a road and then turned right into an initially felled plantation onto the route of an old railway. This provided me with a very long, but relaxing walk through the Talybont Forest around the southern slopes above Talybont Reservoir all the way back to the hostel. This was a fabulous walk in really good weather where I benefited from staying high for much of the walk, which kept me away from the worst of the heat until eventually I descended for the long walk out. I have very little memory of the walk I did in 2003, but the comment in my diary at the time that it was “around the hills east of the Brecon Beacons” indicates that the walk I had just done was not the walk I did in 2003. When I was doing this walk I assumed that I had done it before, but when I checked afterwards I realised that I hadn’t. This was a fairly strenuous walk, but I thoroughly enjoyed it as I walked over the awesome mountains of the Brecon Beacons in tremendous weather.
Thursday, 12 September 2019
My Black Mountains Memorial Walk
Saturday 24th August 2019
Twenty years ago I came to the Black Mountains on the eastern edge of the Brecon Beacons National Park and did my first mountain walk. Up to that point all my walking had been in the Peak District climbing no higher than the edge of Kinder Scout, but on this walk I smashed that reaching over seven hundred metres above sea level, which in Britain is well over the height for a hill to be regarded as a mountain. Ever since that momentous occasion I have returned to the area every five years in memory of the walk that started me off on what is now twenty years of tremendously enjoyable walking. What drew me to the area was a mention in the YHA guide about the Capel-y-Ffin Youth Hostel that used to be in the area (and is now a luxury holiday cottage) and says “Hay-on-Wye, renowned for its second hand book shops, is only 7 miles away”. I had been an avid browser of second hand bookshops since I was at Uni so I needed no other incentive and I have been drawn back many times not only to the town of books and the nearby Black Mountains, but to the whole of Wales. However I have rarely been in Wales in the last ten years favouring other areas such as the Lake District and Scotland, so on this holiday I returned to some of those places that had originally sparked my love of walking in mountains.
In brilliant weather I drove back to Hay-on-Wye and up the narrow country lane that climbs into the Black Mountains and parked in exactly the same place where I had twenty years ago, at the foot of Hay Bluff. On subsequent visits I would park at the top of the Gospel Pass but on this walk I started as I had all those years ago by climbing the steep grassy slopes, which must have very tiring for someone as unused to hillwalking as I was at that time. Thankfully the steep path eventually turns across the hillside for an easier climb to the top of the heather-covered ridge, and from there the summit of my first mountain, Hay Bluff, comes into sight with its trig point that is now decorated with Welsh red dragons. In 1999 I turned south-west from this point to head down to the Gospel Pass and up to Twmpa, but now I turned south-east in the opposite direction to that seminal walk passing several of the wild horses that are common in the Black Mountains. On reaching the English border I came off my 1999 route, that follows the top of the ridge, and headed towards Black Hill echoing my memorial walk of 2009. This was a lovely walk in the sunshine with a warm breeze as I passed through the purple flowering heather to reach the top of Black Hill, but it was beyond the top when things turned glorious.
The Cat’s Back ridge of Black Hill narrows deliciously as it descends and since on my previous walks, the first in 2000, I had climbed up the ridge now I was able to enjoy this fabulous ridge for the first time in descent. The hot weather had brought out a lot of flying ants and these hovered above the rocks as I slowly made my way along this ridge that seems to keep going for ages until finally descends steep grassy slopes into the Olchon Valley. Unfortunately I had forgotten to bring my walking poles for this holiday and on this descent my knees complained painfully all the way down the Cat’s Back, which forced me to find a solution before my next walk. Crossing the Olchon Valley I took a wonderful path that descends through glorious woodland past Black Hill Farm, but I’m sure it wasn’t the route I took in either 2000 or 2009 when I think I must have crossed the valley higher up. After crossing the river the climb soon got me sweating again and upon reaching dense bracken I tucked my trousers into my socks (to guard against ticks) before plunging in to battle through the thick foliage until eventually I successfully came out on the other side and wearily climb the rest of the hill to the top of the ridge that carries both the England/Wales border and the Offa’s Dyke Path.
Thankful for some cooling wind at the top I had my lunch before heading down the hill on the far side of the ridge. I had climbed this path in 1999 in similarly hot weather and completely wore me out just as it had now when climbing the other side. The views down the Vale of Ewyas from this path in 1999 had set my destiny for the next twenty years and it was great to see them again as I slowly descended through the bracken towards Capel-y-Ffin. There is a spot in the woodland down this path where the dappled sunlight through the trees produced such a feeling of contentment in 1999 that my life would never be the same, and it is significant that this did not happen at the top of a mountain, but in woodland. Instead of following the path all the way into Capel-y-Ffin as on all my previous visits, I turned down a lane that took me to the river and the valley road. Dominating my view up the valley was the end of the Darren Lwyd ridge that had been my route in 1999 and I should have headed up there now, but instead I climbed the hill on the far side of the valley, once again wading through thick bracken to find a good path that took me all the way up to the top of the ridge.
The hot weather was not making the steep climbs up these ridges easy, so by the time I reached the Blacksmith’s Anvil stone at the top I was exhausted and wished I’d not extended the walk any further than I’d needed. It was too late now so I turned along the ridge and wearily walked towards the trig point on Rhos Dirion, but before then I turned to the right just after passing over Twyn Talycefn to follow a faint path around to the edge of the escarpment overlooking the glorious Wye Valley and from there I exhaustingly climbed Twmpa. The Gospel Pass and Hay Bluff now lay before me, and once I had descended to the pass I followed the road round Hay Bluff to reach my starting point since I had not parked at the Gospel Pass, which would have been the natural place to start. This walk brought to mind the many walks I did in the Black Mountains while there was a hostel at Capel-y-Ffin, including my first ever hill walk. The ridges that typify the Black Mountains are great for strolling along the top, but exhausting when climbed and the hot weather that I had on this walk made it extremely tiring. However the weather had been like that twenty years ago, so what better memorial can there be?
Twenty years ago I came to the Black Mountains on the eastern edge of the Brecon Beacons National Park and did my first mountain walk. Up to that point all my walking had been in the Peak District climbing no higher than the edge of Kinder Scout, but on this walk I smashed that reaching over seven hundred metres above sea level, which in Britain is well over the height for a hill to be regarded as a mountain. Ever since that momentous occasion I have returned to the area every five years in memory of the walk that started me off on what is now twenty years of tremendously enjoyable walking. What drew me to the area was a mention in the YHA guide about the Capel-y-Ffin Youth Hostel that used to be in the area (and is now a luxury holiday cottage) and says “Hay-on-Wye, renowned for its second hand book shops, is only 7 miles away”. I had been an avid browser of second hand bookshops since I was at Uni so I needed no other incentive and I have been drawn back many times not only to the town of books and the nearby Black Mountains, but to the whole of Wales. However I have rarely been in Wales in the last ten years favouring other areas such as the Lake District and Scotland, so on this holiday I returned to some of those places that had originally sparked my love of walking in mountains.
In brilliant weather I drove back to Hay-on-Wye and up the narrow country lane that climbs into the Black Mountains and parked in exactly the same place where I had twenty years ago, at the foot of Hay Bluff. On subsequent visits I would park at the top of the Gospel Pass but on this walk I started as I had all those years ago by climbing the steep grassy slopes, which must have very tiring for someone as unused to hillwalking as I was at that time. Thankfully the steep path eventually turns across the hillside for an easier climb to the top of the heather-covered ridge, and from there the summit of my first mountain, Hay Bluff, comes into sight with its trig point that is now decorated with Welsh red dragons. In 1999 I turned south-west from this point to head down to the Gospel Pass and up to Twmpa, but now I turned south-east in the opposite direction to that seminal walk passing several of the wild horses that are common in the Black Mountains. On reaching the English border I came off my 1999 route, that follows the top of the ridge, and headed towards Black Hill echoing my memorial walk of 2009. This was a lovely walk in the sunshine with a warm breeze as I passed through the purple flowering heather to reach the top of Black Hill, but it was beyond the top when things turned glorious.
The Cat’s Back ridge of Black Hill narrows deliciously as it descends and since on my previous walks, the first in 2000, I had climbed up the ridge now I was able to enjoy this fabulous ridge for the first time in descent. The hot weather had brought out a lot of flying ants and these hovered above the rocks as I slowly made my way along this ridge that seems to keep going for ages until finally descends steep grassy slopes into the Olchon Valley. Unfortunately I had forgotten to bring my walking poles for this holiday and on this descent my knees complained painfully all the way down the Cat’s Back, which forced me to find a solution before my next walk. Crossing the Olchon Valley I took a wonderful path that descends through glorious woodland past Black Hill Farm, but I’m sure it wasn’t the route I took in either 2000 or 2009 when I think I must have crossed the valley higher up. After crossing the river the climb soon got me sweating again and upon reaching dense bracken I tucked my trousers into my socks (to guard against ticks) before plunging in to battle through the thick foliage until eventually I successfully came out on the other side and wearily climb the rest of the hill to the top of the ridge that carries both the England/Wales border and the Offa’s Dyke Path.
Thankful for some cooling wind at the top I had my lunch before heading down the hill on the far side of the ridge. I had climbed this path in 1999 in similarly hot weather and completely wore me out just as it had now when climbing the other side. The views down the Vale of Ewyas from this path in 1999 had set my destiny for the next twenty years and it was great to see them again as I slowly descended through the bracken towards Capel-y-Ffin. There is a spot in the woodland down this path where the dappled sunlight through the trees produced such a feeling of contentment in 1999 that my life would never be the same, and it is significant that this did not happen at the top of a mountain, but in woodland. Instead of following the path all the way into Capel-y-Ffin as on all my previous visits, I turned down a lane that took me to the river and the valley road. Dominating my view up the valley was the end of the Darren Lwyd ridge that had been my route in 1999 and I should have headed up there now, but instead I climbed the hill on the far side of the valley, once again wading through thick bracken to find a good path that took me all the way up to the top of the ridge.
The hot weather was not making the steep climbs up these ridges easy, so by the time I reached the Blacksmith’s Anvil stone at the top I was exhausted and wished I’d not extended the walk any further than I’d needed. It was too late now so I turned along the ridge and wearily walked towards the trig point on Rhos Dirion, but before then I turned to the right just after passing over Twyn Talycefn to follow a faint path around to the edge of the escarpment overlooking the glorious Wye Valley and from there I exhaustingly climbed Twmpa. The Gospel Pass and Hay Bluff now lay before me, and once I had descended to the pass I followed the road round Hay Bluff to reach my starting point since I had not parked at the Gospel Pass, which would have been the natural place to start. This walk brought to mind the many walks I did in the Black Mountains while there was a hostel at Capel-y-Ffin, including my first ever hill walk. The ridges that typify the Black Mountains are great for strolling along the top, but exhausting when climbed and the hot weather that I had on this walk made it extremely tiring. However the weather had been like that twenty years ago, so what better memorial can there be?
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