Now that's a view...

On Saturday night I met up with my friends Laura and Dave, well I say met up, rather they came and visited me at work. Anyway, we discussed our plans for Monday (yesterday), and decided to go for a walk. They didn't say where, but I like an adventure, but hoped that wherever we go we'll avoid the Bank Holiday crowds.

So I got ready for the trip early Monday morning, packing my platypus, waterproofs, lunch, and spare clothing into my rucksack; jumped into Dave and Laura's car and headed out to the Rhinogs. The weather was terribly miserable that morning, the rain obscuring Cader Idris and all of the other landmarks on our journey, which made us bet with each other to guess how many tents would still be up that morning in the campsites on the way. It seemed that two tents were brave enough to cope with the rain, other people evidently not fancying the wet conditions. All of this meant that the Rhinogs were deserted. We couldn't actually see the hills (or colls as they're known) when we set out that morning due to the very low cloud and mists. We made a decision to keep on walking through the forest and into the Rhinog hills themselves, and if the weather remained crap then we'd either circle around the hills (as climbing them would be pointless as we'd never see anything from the tops), or just walk around the forest. About an hour into the walk, the weather began to slowly clear, and the beauty of the mountains had begun to reveal themselves.

Unfortunately I had forgot my camera so I can't show how lovely the Rhinogs are. They reminded me a lot of Dartmoor with the very wet ground, the heather, the bracken, and the rocks; but it's much hillier (the highest points I believe are about 720m), and is a much smaller area too.

We had great fun down in the valley bottom. Dave intended us to go up to the top of Rhinog Fawr, but as we approached the A-frame stile, we found our way impeded by the river that had burst its banks. The ground had been saturated around that area anyway, but at that point the water was flowing too fast and too deep to go through. So we abandoned that idea and decided to go back to the original path and circle around up another hill (whose name I forget). As it was we came to another point where we couldn't actually go anywhere without going through thigh-high water. "Buggerit!" we said and just waded through anyway. The Gore-tex lining in my boots had coped admirably until then, but even they can't cope with water coming up over the top of my boots. It was just as well that the weather was brightening up considerably, affording more breathtaking views of the scenery.

We saw some wild goats on the trail (and boy do they stink- you could smell them before you saw them!) Real Billygoat Gruff types. Walked across some large slabs of granite, but my boots have sod-all grip on them (I must complain to Berghaus about them) and I ended up flat on my back at one point. My rucksack took the brunt of my fall (I recommend Deuter heartily- I didn't even damage my Flake choccy bar!) so I was hardly bruised. We walked past this house that is a classic Welsh farmhouse with its back set into the hillside protecting it from the worst of the wintry weather that the Welsh climate is apt to throw out. I reckon it's probably late medieval, circa 16th century (no building apart from castles pre-date 1400 in Wales- the Owain Glyndwr effect).

Anyhoo, we then decided to climb up around this mountain and contour around it, drop down to the lake on the other side, and then through the forest back to the car. We stopped for lunch halfway up, stripped ourselves of our waterproofs (it was getting hot!) and wrung our socks out- they were very wet. After, we resumed our climb, although this was made difficult with the disappearance of the path forcing us to make our own path through the thick heather, and with the lumps of granite underfoot making our spontaneous path even more uncertain. When we did find the path again, (with the inevitable streams of water running along it) it became all a bit gnarly, and steep. What the Rhinogs lack in height, they make up for with their steep slopes and scrambley rocks. On the descent, I was forced to go down on my backside it was so steep and rocky. It didn't help that I didn't trust my boots, and besides which the precipitous angle of the route down was not helping my vertigo very much. Yes, I am scared stupid of heights; no I don't quite know why I am willing to go through with it all anyway.

The views on the top of our climb (we went within 120 metres of the summit), made it all worthwhile. From the top we could see clear out to the Llyn Peninsular, and the towns of Harlech, Porthmadog and (I think) Criccieth. However, the most absorbing view was of course, Snowdon herself. Snowdon is even more impressive from where we stood than all of the other views I have seen of her. Perhaps because I could put her in perspective with all the other mountains and landmarks; and because for once I saw Snowdon unencumbered by the horseshoe of mountains surrounding her summit; something which you don't see when viewing closer to hand. I really wish I had brought my camera with me, especially as I've found that the internet doesn't have any views that do the Rhinogs justice, and nor do they show the stunning views of North Wales.

So we made it down (albeit slowly as I inched and slithered my way carefully), and came to this lovely lake, which sadly we didn't stop too long to appreciate it, but I did manage to skim a few stones across its choppy surface- it was quite windy down there for some reason. That was the difficult bit done, and so we made our way back down the path, through the forest and to the car. I went to the stream by the car and washed my legs off of mud (I was wearing shorts underneath my waterproofs), and inspected the various cuts and grazes that I had managed to accumulate during my journey. The stream was beautifully cold and deep, its water stained brown by the peat from the soil in the hills, but ran clear when I cupped my hands.

The day was great fun, the weather clearing up to be fabulous- one of those bright summer days that you never forget; and the company was excellent - Dave and Laura crack me up. So off home we went, and then we met up again at Rummers later that evening. By which time I was knackered- I could only just finish my pint of London Pride (always a pleasure to drink, never a chore, unless the publican keeps it on tap for too long). I could barely banter with Rick as I normally do, but still, it was a nice finish to our day saying goodbye to Inke who's off to Canada, and Bethan who is walking from Aber to her home in Nottingham- nutter. Then again I'm fairly jealous as it seems like a fun thing to do really.

I didn't half sleep well last night after all that. Hopefully I'll get to do more walking on the weekend of the 17th when Duncan comes back up :D