Snowdonia.. Into the Mountains

So, there I was, walking into Snowdonia and looking up at the snow covered peaks that were somewhat obscured by a freezing fog that was lifting itself out of the waterlogged valleys. I was wet and I was very cold…. although very thankful for the cold weather gear that I had put on that morning at the bed and breakfast. Externally, I was chilled and numb but internally my adrenaline was running and I was warm with the sense of adventure.

By mid morning I had arrived at a road junction….. just a small one but a significant one. Straight ahead and down the road, the route would take me to a small village called Beddgelert, where I knew that I’d be able to check into a small hostelry of some form… it was tempting because the conditions were awful. Turning right at the junction and uphill, the path would take me to the top of the Llanberis Pass. There was a café there in those days, and even then was a popular viewpoint, although It didn’t have the hostel and coffee shops that it does today. I looked up at the sky and made my decision.

I turned right and headed uphill. I wanted to climb Mount Snowdon and camp on her….. I wasn’t going to take the easy option, I hadn’t come all this way to do that. Literally minutes after deciding my fate in this manner, the clouds lifted, the rain stopped and the sun shone. It was February, this is what the weather does in Wales.

I consulted my Ordinance Survey maps and walked and scrambled up to the Southern slopes of Mount Snowdon itself. On my way, I caught glimpses of the feral mountain goats, longhorns, that were roaming in small herds over the mountains. I was scrambling along a rugged path (that today has become a well known and well surfaced walkers trail) and I have to admit that I was exhilarated. I hadn’t seen a human being all day, and my walk up the valley, and then this scramble, were playing happy tricks with my brain. This was wonderful.

It was late afternoon and I found myself eating a soggy cheese and onion sandwich…. strong Cheddar cheese…. and supping on a cup of stewed tea from my thermos flask. I stared at the landscape around me and was thrilled by it. Immediately beneath me were the ruins of an old inn. These mountains have been a source of minerals to local people for centuries and dotted around me, although out of sight, were numerous old mines and quarry workings. The ruins beneath me were probably two or three hundred years old, and had been shattered by falling rocks….. they had been built to quench miners thirsts and now they had become a goats playground.

I lazed there for about thirty minutes, finally packing up my things and crossing the stream that was gushing down towards Beddgelert and the sea beyond. I was very damp and cold but I had seen a spot on the other side of the valley that appeared to offer a little shelter from the elements…. I headed towards it. !

Scattering a small herd of goats, I cleared a level area on the rocky ground. I gathered some damp moss and bracken and laid over the cleared area. It was getting dark so I had to hurry to put my small tent into position, anchoring it to some large boulders that towered around my small campsite. Completing this chore, I setup my camp stove (inside the tent) and started to brew another cup of tea. As I sipped on it, a can of soup was placed on the same burner. My dinner was being cooked.

The wind howled around me all night, and the rain fell. I slept heavily due to my fatigue and the cold…… I was exhausted.

It was still dark when I arose in the morning. I brushed my teeth and filled my canteens with fresh water (dropping a water purifier into each container) from a small but pristine lake that sat beneath my camp.

I snuggled back into my tent…

and read my book.