First paid work as a Mountain Leader!

30.6-2.7.14
Walking with; More House School

   Well, it has finally paid off! This was my first gig as a professionally qualified ML. I picked up the job with Class Adventure at the last minute and headed down to Crickhowell in South Wales for a couple of days walking and working with a group of 55 kids from More House School in Surrey. I was in charge of 11 kids and assisted by one of the teachers from the school. We were based at a semi-permanent campsite in the beautiful Glanusk Estate and spent one night at a more remote camp still on the estate but with a slightly wilder feel.
   The sun shone and I led the group along the Brecon and Monmouthshire canal before cutting off the towpath and dropping down to the gorgeous River Usk. We paused by the waterfalls and watched Buzzards wheel overhead before continuing on to Llangynidir and then cutting through the countryside to our campground. The next morning we followed the Usk down to Crickhowell before crossing into Llangattock and heading back along the canal. The kids also got the chance to try their hands at climbing, abseiling and canoeing and really seemed to enjoy their time in the Welsh countryside. Whilst I might not have spent any actual time in the mountains it was good experience working with groups and getting used to the different dynamic and also being able to educate some of the kids about the fantastic countryside around Crickhowell. My next gig is on Scafell Pike, can't wait, especially if the sun keeps shining!

Peregrine and Puffins at South Stack

22/06/14
Walking with; Ruthy

  Ever since I completed my ML things have been very busy and I've not had much of an opportunity to actually get out into the countryside, slightly ironic. Sunday, it was too nice a day not to get out and do something though and what with it being Puffin season and Ruthy never having seen one I decided South Stack might be the place to go!
   In truth there isn't a great deal of walking necessary to get a look at the seabird cities, a gentle stroll down from the visitor's centre takes you to the frighteningly sheer cliff edge and spectacular views of the nesting birds, rafts of Auks and the famous lighthouse (which was actually closed on Sunday as a feature film was being made). We spotted a beautiful Peregrine Falcon perched on the cliff face and the noise and smell of huge Guillemot and Razorbill colonies was overwhelming. As we traced our way along the narrow cliff edge passing patches of Thrift and Tormentil, we spied a couple of Choughs lifting off from the grass and drifting by overhead. The Puffins proved elusive and we were about to pack up and go home when a final scan of the floating flocks revealed a couple of this most distinctive and iconic of birds bobbing on the fringe of a large group of Razorbills. Mission accomplished!! It wasn't in truth much of a walk, a mile or two at best, but it was an extremely rewarding way to spend a sunny Sunday afternoon. Sadly the birds were out of camera range so I had to make do with a few of the lighthouse!

A wet wild camp in the Brecon Beacons

7/8.5.14
Walking with; Nathan

  Although my Granny has lived in the area for over twenty years my experience of walking in this area is pretty limited, although I enjoyed my trip there this time last year http://www.comewalkwithmeuk.co.uk/2013/05/south-wales-wanderings.html. We were well aware that the forecast was pretty poor so were pleasantly surprised to arrive at the remote parking spot on Gospel Pass (the highest road pass in Wales) with hints of blue sky still peeking out from the cloud. The Pass is apparently named after the 12th Century crusaders who preached and raised funds on the pass. It's a desolate spot but an iconic one within the park.
  We set off onto Twmpa or Lord Hereford's Knob and tramped across the marshy land watching the Wild Ponies and foals and crossing our fingers that the weather would continue to hold. We were looking for a protected spot to camp given the forecast and eventually came to the conclusion that although it meant some more mileage if we could cross the valley and make our way up to the Mynydd Du forest we'd be liely to be able to find a sheltered and protected spot. We passed the Capel-Y-Ffin monastery, now a riding centre, and after a short, steep switchbacked scramble made our way over to the forest where after some searching we found a patch of pine needles flat and wide enough to accommodate my tent and Nathan's bivvi! After tea we had a quick night nav before the conditions started to move towards inclemency and we retreated to our respective shelters!
   Breakfast done, tent packed and then the rain started! It stayed with us for most of the day as we made our way along the forest edge before dropping down to the valley floor and coming across the beautiful ruined abbey at Llanthony. The abbey is an abandoned Augustinian Priory founded in 1100 on the site of the ruined chapel of Wales's patron saint, St David. It's a beautiful spot and well worth a wander around. Leaving the abbey we headed up on to the Hatterall Hill ridge and followed the six odd km ridge back to Hay Bluff and eventually the car! The conditions were grim. The rain was persistent, the wind gusted brutally and continually threatened to knock us off our feet and the path was mired in bog and water. It was reminiscent of The Pennine Way, miles of boggy marsh with the real feeling of something potentially nasty, but the flagged path providing a degree of security. The Beacons weren't shown at their best in these conditions, but I've seen more than enough to justify a return visit in the not too distant future!

To view the full album, please click on the link below;
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Scrambling and climbing around Crib Goch

18/19.3.14
Walking with; Nathan

Crib Goch is one of those evocative peaks that either have walkers/climbers grinning inanely and nodding wildly or shaking their heads and pursing their lips. It is an iconic route and with the feel of enough real danger to ensure that completing it produces the kind of buzz more normally associated with more extreme pastimes! The fact that the ridge line leads onto Wales's highest peak is an additional incentive for testing your head for heights and giving it a go. Snowdon can be climbed on a train, up the gentle "motorway" of the Llanberis pass, by the Pyg, by the Pyg and then Crib Goch or you can do what Nathan persuaded me to do and scramble your way from the bottom of the Pen-Y-Pass road onto Crib Goch and then battle your way through the cloud and wind to emerge wind reddened and grinning at the highest point in Wales!
   I am still relatively new to scrambling and found our route up towards our goal the perfect blend of challenge and fun. At one stage we ascended a slippery gully only to find our escape route blocked by a chock stone, after a little exploration a hole was discovered between the stone and valley wall and I managed to squeeze through feeling grateful I'd restricted myself to only one bacon sandwich for breakfast. By the time we'd reached the ridge itself the clouds were low and the wind high, but we picked our way along the craggy route, climbing up, dropping down, ducking out of the wind and glancing at the sheer drop offs with a mixture of awe and trepidation! There were still plenty of slabby, wind blasted snow fields on the slopes on both sides and we were aware that a slip would be unlikely to end well! We could hear voices drifting up from the Pyg track and saw one other group of three on the ridge in the distance but for the majority of our route we had what "Trail" magazine recently called "the most climbed mountain in the world" (Snowdon) to ourselves. We eventually, and somewhat regretfully, reached the trig on Carnedd Ugain and after dropping off the very windy summit we suddenly entered a traffic jam of varyingly equipped walkers moving towards the Snowdon summit. There was still snow on the railway line but that hadn't prevented the summit from being littered with beer cans, crisp packets and other detritus left by inconsiderate scum too idle to carry their own crap off the hill. We descended via The Pyg Track before dropping off back down the slope and eventually reaching our car in driving rain.
   Wednesday dawned and Nathan was keen to have a climb. I nervously assented. Whilst I have been climbing indoors for a year or so I'd never climbed outside before and had only my walking boots, but felt confident that I was with an experienced climber. We parked up in the same spot and made our way towards the crags of Dinas Mot. Nathan led the climb with me seconding and we made our way up four pitches and around sixty metres of ascent. I wasn't sure how much I would enjoy it but aside from the occasional burst of debilitating adrenalin I found my confidence growing and by the time I was hauling myself ungracefully onto the grassy plateau at the top of the climb I think it's fair to say I was hooked. The route we took wasn't a pure rock face climb, we included traverses and grassy gullies, but it was a great experience for me getting me used to climbing roped up, removing gear from crags and dealing with exposure on small ledges. I can't wait for the next time :-)

To view the full album (and it's a good one!) please click on the link below;
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A snowy Snowdonia walk

27.1.14
Walking with; Alex

My last day out in Snowdonia had come to a relatively swift end when my route along the Foel Gron ridge was interrupted by a lightning flash that seemed to be right on top of me. The weather for this walk in the shadows of the Carneddau was equally unforgiving, if a little less terrifying.
I had arranged to meet Alex via a Facebook forum for ML trainees and as I drove down increasingly narrow gated lanes to our meeting point I had to admit he'd picked a cracking spot for an afternoon of exploring and a night nav session. We set off on the path towards Cerrig Cochion before swinging West and following the Clogwyn Maldy track which eventually led us to the steep ramp between the twin reservoirs of Dulyn and Melynllyn. As the rain turned to sleet we stopped here to admire the views back down the valley, noting the well positioned bothy ( a possibility for the future) and spying a few decent looking camping spots. We located a decent crag or two and spent 40 minutes or so practicing rope work techniques and  forlornly hoping for a break in the weather!
We followed the ramp up onto the lower slopes of Foel Grach where the wind really hitting us whipping the wet snow across the plateau and it was with some relief that we located Ffynnon Llyfant, the highest lake in Wales sitting at an altitude of 815 metres. On the shores of the lake and scattered around the valley are the remains of an RAF aircraft that crashed in 1957 killing both crew members (see link for further information) http://www.peakdistrictaircrashes.co.uk/pages/wales/waleswk129.htm. It makes for a slightly eerie feel particularly with darkness falling and the snow creating a monochrome landscape. We left the lake as darkness fell and night navved a succession of legs broadly following the line of Afon Eigiau before we reached the remains of the old quarry buildings. From there it was a route march back along the valley floor on the track leading past the Llyn Eigiau reservoir until we reached our lonely cars thoroughly sodden but well satisfied with a testing afternoon on the hills.

To view the full album please click on the link below;
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A Snowdonian overnighter

19/20.6.13
Walking with; Nobody

In my recent desire to get to know the Lake District better I have somewhat neglected Snowdonia but after a cracking two days in North Wales I am anxious to rectify this once more. The hostels in Snowdon were busy but I eventually found a bed at the Pen-Y-Pass YHA http://www.yha.org.uk/hostel/pen-y-pass  and so planned a couple of days around my base.
I arrived in Beddgelert in blazing sunshine (a sentence not often written I suspect) and after a brief refreshment stop headed out along the pretty banks of the River Glaslyn to Gelert's grave. Gelert, a hunting hound, was the pet of Prince Llewelyn, one day the Prince went hunting without Gelert and on his return found his son's crib overturned and the room in disarray, there was blood on Gelert's muzzle and the Prince, jumping to conclusions slew him. As he did this a baby cried and the Prince found his son alive under the crib and a huge Wolf, killed by the faithful hound, lay dead next to him. The Prince was heartbroken and supposedly never smiled again! Leaving the grave I followed "The Fisherman's Path" which became ever rockier as the river became wilder, before emerging on the Aberglaslyn bridge. The path then zigzagged up through woodland before emerging onto boggy moorland near the ruins of the farm at Oerddwr-uchaf. Even in the sunshine the ruins had a slightly "The Hills have eyes" feel to them and I was glad to be past them and tramping through the Cotton grass towards my first target for the day Moel Ddu. I watched a Red Kite playing on the thermals, soaring gracefully up and up before dropping down again, and then repeating the process, and as I started up the painfully steep lower slopes of Moel Ddu my grunts of exertion were accompanied by the familiar "cronk" of a number of the local Ravens.It was a short, very steep slog, but the summit views were possibly some of the finest in Wales. As I sat sandwich in hand, whichever direction I looked it was magnificent. The Moel range loomed large, Snowdon herself sat proud and cloudless in the distance, the Llyn Peninsula stretched out into the sea and Porthmadog sat perched on the estuary offering the promise of fish and chips and ice cream....I'd have killed for an ice cream at this stage. Apart from the occasional "cronk" and the whistle of the steam train from down in the valley, it was blissfully peaceful and still.
Ahead of me I could see Moel Hebog and Banog, two more sharp climbs still lay ahead so, refuelled, I moved on. The climb up Banog was another where frequent "view" stops broke up the gradient and from there it was a last slog up the scree onto the summit of Moel Hebog where I met a squirrel hanging around the cairn on the scrounge and saw the only other walkers I met all day, seven hours close to one of Snowdonia's tourist honeypots and barely a soul to be seen. The path zig zagged back down to the valley where I saw a couple of Wheatears before coming to rest in the Tanronnen Inn for a restorative pint and a perusal of the photos of local history adorning the walls.
Snowdon is not just a mountain, it is a tourist attraction, a destination in it's own right, and my second ascent of it was a very different experience from the day before. I'd been up it once before, in a hurry, in the cloud at the end of a Three Peaks challenge, so this time I wanted to take my time and enjoy it. I left the friendly staff at the hostel behind and they agreed I could save myself a tenner by leaving my car in their layby rather than in the exorbitantly priced car park across the road. I'd previously followed the Miner's Track so this time I set off up the Pyg, a far more scenic path that climbs up to the foot of Crib Goch. It was still sunny at this stage but the forecast was poor so I'd decided to skip the ridge and concentrate on getting to the top in one piece. The paths were all busy but by varying my pace I managed to not get caught up in any traffic jams and the views remained pretty impressive until about ten minutes from the top when the cloud dropped a little further and things became a bit hazy. None-the-less I did have views from the summit, even if they had to be shared with a train load of 50 odd European tourists who timed their arrival to perfectly coincide with mine! Snowdon is not a mountain for peace and solitude! I dropped back down the Miner's enjoying the relatively flat return and almost making it back to Pen-Y-Pass before the rain started!
On the return leg I came across a number of groups of people who were very clearly (to my mind) under prepared and/or inappropriately equipped. I am the first to accept that I sometimes overdo it, but a full pack gives me a feeling of security and a better workout, and if the worst comes to the worst I am confident in my ability to deal with most things a mountain can throw at me. I am sure all regular walkers have come across this on occasions, once on the Half Dome Trail in Yosemite I came across a (for want of a better description) "stoner dude" in cut off denims and no shirt who had attempted the 15 odd mile round trek with a 350ml bottle of water and by the time we found him was suffering from heat stroke......an extreme example but it raises the question, what responsibility do we, as experienced and able hill walkers, have to people we see heading out into potentially perilous situations? My natural reserve makes me inclined to say little, but last month after I'd descended in full waterproof kit from Wetherlam due to the ferocity of the conditions on the top I felt compelled to say to three teenage Americans who were about to try and ascend the Old Man of Coniston in shorts and t-shirt that I didn't think it would be sensible for them to continue.....they ignored me, but at least I felt I done the right thing.....What do other people think?

To view the full album, plase click on the link below;
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South Wales wanderings

7/8.5.13
Walking with; Ruthy

Some of my earliest walking memories are of family outings to the Brecon Beacons where my Grandparents lived (and Grandmother still does). The names are evocative to me; The Sugar Loaf, The Table Mountain, The Blorenge and in my mind they have grown into epic mountain days, and so it was, that with Ruth having to visit Abergavenny for work the Wednesday after a Bank Holiday we thought we could stay with Granny in Crickhowell and I could relive a few childhood memories.
Tuesday felt as if Summer had arrived. We rolled into Hay-on-Wye in glorious sunshine, there was blossom on the trees, primroses and daffodils were still in flower and the fields were full of young lambs. Hay is the self proclaimed book capital of the world and with 30+ shops covering every conceivable specialism, it was easy to wile away a couple of hours and head back to the car with a bootfull of new reads. We headed out of Hay and onto the Offa's Dyke Path (which I am still hoping to do this year, time permitting) and had soon left the town behind for a world of forget-me-nots, celandines, goosegrass and primroses. We crossed the Dulas Brook, back into England, and the tiny hamlet of Cusop which found notoriety as the home of Herbert Rowse Armstrong, the only English solicitor ever to be hanged for murder! More country lanes lined with Cow Parsley and early bluebells took us back into Hay still bathed in beautiful sunshine.
Wednesday morning and the sunshine of the previous day had disappeared. The cloud hung low and drizzle was in the air as I emerged replete from another Full  English at The Kings Arms in Abergavenny. Undaunted I made my way through the narrow lanes and past the Sugar Loaf vineyards to the car park at Mynydd Llanwenarth where the cloud was lifting to provide spectacular views. I headed off North West and dropped into a valley below the Western ridge where I heard, and then saw, my first Cuckoo of the year. The climb up the ridge was long and blowy but undemanding and the views of the Beacons and surrounding countryside were spectacular. I now have longer legs than I did on my first ascent so it wasn't quite such an arduous adventure, but the 360 degree views from the summit are well earned and well worth the effort. It was a gentle descent back to the car park drinking in the views and skirting the edge of St Mary's Vale and once I was back I looked back at the cone like summit through the same eyes I did 30 years before and felt as if I'd had a proper adventure once more!

A question

Has anyone walked any of the Welsh Coastal Path? If so, do they have any reflections/hints/tips on it? Ditto, the Offa's Dyke Path? Any information would be very much appreciated. Cheers