Cambrian Way: Some Comments

The Cambrian Way is similar to the more famous Pennine Way in England; of a similar length, both long distance paths follow the mountain backbone of a country through many miles of open moorland, although the Cambrian Way seems to climb rather more mountains. Indeed if you planned to start bagging "Nuttall's" (mountains over 2000 feet in England and Wales) this would be an ideal route as you cross most of those in Wales, as well as the higher 3000 foot peaks.

The 298 mile Cambrian Way is said to be one of the tougher long distance trails, which is not only due to the number of mountains, it is also the poor condition of much of the "path". In many places there is no path. In Mid Wales I found myself struggling across hummocks of grass and reeds, interspersed with mossy, muddy, swampy areas, I lost a foot more than once in holes created by hidden streams or just the general irregular nature of the boggy ground. After longer periods of heavy rain, the ground conditions could make walking a very unpleasant experience. In North Wales steep slopes with big clumps of heather interspersed with rocks, and hidden gaps to trap my feet, proved a similar challenge. Hiking in such areas is tiring and made me appreciate sections of good path, farm and forest tracks, and quiet roads. I sometimes suspected that Tony Drake, who devised the Cambrian Way, deliberately selected the more difficult routes, but then it is a mountain bagging path so you should expect to work hard, however the guidebook does offer alternative routes in places.

Parts of the trail are remote, and you may not see anyone all day, other parts, in particular Snowdonia, are overcrowded. I was travelling at a time when restrictions associated with the Covid 19 Coronavirus pandemic were in place. Consequently, most campsites were either closed or not accepting tents, hostels were closed or accepting few visitors, and the hotels and Bed & Breakfast's which were open were usually full, either due to the lack of other accommodation or because people wanted a holiday, not having been able to have one during the earlier lockdown. This meant that most nights I was forced to wild camp. In better times you could spend most nights under a roof, although on one of two sections, such as in the Rhinogau, a tent is needed to avoid long diversions or complex taxi arrangements. Note that wild camping in Wales without the landowner's permission is illegal (and finding the landowner in the middle of the moors is not practical), so camp in a discrete location as night falls, leave at dawn and leave no trace of your visit except for some dry, flattened grass. Wild camping has the benefit that you will see some excellent sunsets and sunrises when the weather is favourable.

Anyone considering the route should consider good waterproof boots and gaiters as the moorland can be marshy, wet and muddy. I found a walking pole useful to help with balance in areas where it was easy to topple off a mossy clump into a muddy hole. My pole also helped to push me up the hills as my legs tired. A waterproof jacket and trousers are needed as, in Wales, long periods of rain can happen at any time of year, but so can sunny weather so you need to prepare for both. Weather in the mountains can be very different to that at lower levels, in general it is colder, wetter and windier, and you may have poor visibility as you walk through the clouds. Forecasts for towns in the valleys can be misleading, the best information is provided by the Met Office Mountain weather service.

While there are Cambrian Way waymarks, which are meant to look like a Welsh hat (they look more like a "trig" point to me), there are not enough to tell you where to go. Instead they just provide a bit of confidence you have picked the right route. Given the lack of paths in places, and the likelihood that you will spend some of the walk in mist which hides all landmarks, I would strongly recommend a handheld GPS (I used a Garmin etrex 30), with the Cambrian Way GPX track and a suitable map downloaded onto it. The GPX tracks for each stage can be found on the Cambrian Way website. With a GPS you always know where you are, I suffered no reception problems, but you need to make sure you carry spare batteries. A smart phone, ideally with a suitable App (such as ViewRanger or Wikiloc) is a good back up. However, neither a GPS nor the track you are following is accurate enough tell you which side of a wall you should be on when the path runs beside it. For this reason, and for the background information on the sights you are passing (and what place names mean in English), the guidebook is really essential. The latest is published by Cicerone, follow this link.

Llyn Ogwen to Conwy on Cambrian Way: Day 19

A day in which numerous summits were bagged as I followed a ridge down to the town of Conwy.

The day began with a climb up to Pen yr Ole Wen. There was some scrambling involved, which I appreciated as the promised scrambling on the Rhinogau turned out to be steep slopes of heather and rocks. Reaching the summit I could seen the Carneddau ridge spread out before me. Along the ridge, grass in places, boulders in others, I crossed the summits of Carnedd Fach, Carnedd Dafydd and Carnedd Llewellyn. There was a strong breeze, pulling wisps of mist across lower points, but it was not as severe as it had been on Snowdon yesterday, and the ridge was broad so my safety was not threatened.  Looking south from the ridge there was a sea of clouds with the Glyderau peaks just rising above it.

A little bit of scrambling to get over these rocks.

Runners reaching the top of Carnedd Llewelyn.

View back down the Carneddau ridge.

Carnedd Llewelyn is only a 21 metres shorter than Snowdon but attracts much fewer visitors. Today there were some men who had run up (a 1000 metre ascent, how do they manage it?) and four French speaking people. 

The Cambrian Way continued along the ridge picking up extra summits, some rocky others less so. The ascent up Foel Lwyd and Tal y Fan was a bit of a trial, a steep climb after many previous ones. As I approached Conwy (called Conway in my younger days) I thought the route had missed a summit as the path curved along the heather clad hillside. Instead it was heading for one final achievement, the top of Conwy mountain. Climbing it meant that I then approached the town down a ridge, dropping out of the hillside directly into the town's streets. A fitting end to a trail that had crossed all the major mountains of Wales.

As I walked along this path, these sheep kept walking ahead of me as I inadvertently herded them along.

Entry into Conwy.

Owing to train times I spent the night at Conwy, enjoying a good evening meal in the knowledge that the calories in the sticky toffee pudding were justified by the distance I had walked and the number of mountains I had climbed. I bought a ticket from Conwy online only to receive an email in the morning that the train was cancelled (due to the standard, universal excuse, Covid 19). So I walked over to Llandudno junction station to catch the three coach, "Transport for Wales" train, full of people, running from there. At each of the many stations on the way to Shrewsbury the display in the carriage announced that the next station was Crewe.

Beddgelert to Llyn Ogwen on Cambrian Way: Day 18

A long and tiring day as I climbed both Snowdon and the Glyderau.

Although my tent survived a windy night, high winds caused me to deviate from the Cambrian Way route up Snowdon, the highest peak in England and Wales. I left the Watkin path as per the guidebook and followed a well preserved section of tramway, a remnant of old mine workings, then climbed up to a pass. Suddenly the easterly wind hit me with great power, progress was a struggle. As the Cambrian Way continues along a ridge for two kilometres, part of which is narrow, I would have been extremely exposed to high winds trying to push me off. Deciding it was safer to follow the more sheltered Watkin path and telling myself the Cambrian Way route would still be there another day, I reluctantly descended the few hundred metres I had just put so much effort in climbing.

Plenty of people and their dogs were following the Watkin path uphill to the top of Snowdon. As the summit approached I entered the clouds, so there was little to see except rocks, the path and fellow hikers, their jackets and backpacks. At the very top, high winds ripped past me and I joined many others sheltering behind the café, closed of course due to Covid 19, watching people being blasted by the high windspeed, their clothes flapping violently as they came around the corner. At the very summit there seemed a huge crowd of people in the grey mist, many gripping each other for support. 

People at summit of Snowdon

I continued to be amazed by the number and variety of people coming up as I walked down the mountain on the Pyg path. Different languages and accents could be heard; there were lean fit people and wider bodied individuals; families were climbing together, as were groups of young lads and lasses. Some seemed to be on sponsored walks for various good causes (cystic fibrosis and Woodlands hospice to name two). Quite a variety of dogs were enjoying the climb too, from little bichon frise to large mountain dogs and everything between. One small pug was being carried up in a special rucksack, as were a few small children. 

Reaching Pen y Pass at the base of the Pyg track I ate a burger and chips at the youth hostel and as it was only around 1:00 pm when I finished, I began the next, long, tiring climb up Glyder Fawr. In places there were traces on the rocks of red painted circles, where once the trail was marked in the continental fashion for the Queen's Jubilee, a practice which was not repeated or maintained. Glyder Fawr, the next peak of Glyder Fach and much in between was a bleak, grey collection of shattered rocks, some still in position but most scattered across the ridge. I was asked about the way down twice which made me worried about how prepared many of the people on the mountain were today. Maybe the Mountain Rescue would have a busy night.

At 5:30 pm I reached the Ogwen visitor centre, in the deep valley between the ridges of the Glyderau and the Carneddau. Unfortunately arriving after the takeaway had closed, I left the crowds behind and continued on a path that runs north of the waters of Llyn Ogwen. As the nearby youth hostel was not open to individuals, my plan had been to stay at the nearby campsite, where a few scattered tents were pitched, but on reaching its entrance, signs told me clearly "Bookings only" and "No Vacancies". Covid 19 was blamed for the limited number of campers allowed. Annoyed as the diversion to the site added an extra kilometre or so to a long day, I retraced my steps and reluctantly started the climb up the next range, the Carneddau. A "no camping" sign lower down ruled out any legal accommodation options, so I am now camped high up in a coombe, beside a lake, out of sight of anyone and well away from any farm buildings. No-one can see me or my tent now it is dark, and after I leave, first thing in the morning, no traces of my presence will remain.

Looking towards Carneddau from Gylder Fach.

Cantilever stone on Glyder Fach

Maentwrog to Beddgelert on the Cambrian Way: Day 17

Two big peaks conquered today in a blustery wind, followed by a more relaxed walk to Beddgelert for a late lunch.

All was calm when I woke this morning and decamped. I began the steep climb up Moelwyn Mawr. Halfway up there is a reservoir behind a long concrete dam. Together with a reservoir in the valley near where I camped, they form a pumped storage system. The concept is that when spare electricity is available on the National Grid, water is pumped from the lower to the upper reservoir. Then after some popular television show, when everyone puts the kettle on creating an upward spike in demand, water is released from the upper to the lower reservoir turning turbines as it flows down. These turbines power electricity generators giving a rapid boost in electricity supply. There were a few yellow "Perygl Danger" signs scattered about, I was unable to identify what specifically they were warning of and I suspected it was just a "cover your bottom" exercise. 

Upper reservoir of pumped storage facility. 

Above the top reservoir I climbed to a pass between two mountains, the wind had been gathering strength as I climbed across the open hillside and at the saddle its force was so great it threatened to blow away my trekking pole and possibly me as well! I thought of taking an alternative route but in the belief that the two mountains either side of me were funnelling the wind, increasing is strength, I started up the ridge to the top of Moelwyn Mawr, keeping to the lee side of the mountain, or using larger rocks for shelter whenever possible. 

Successfully reaching the rounded top of the mountain, after a very brief look at the extensive panorama, I started down the next section of the ridge, now into the wind, which at least kept my glasses firmly in place. Once down near the abandoned Rhosydd slate quarry conditions were quieter as I looked at the remains of old quarry buildings, examined the orange rusted remains of a winch and walked down an inclined tramway.

Walking down inclined tramway at Rhosydd quarry. 

Engine of old winch, but why are only two of the four cylinders scaled up?

Cnicht was the next summit, a shapely peak sometimes described as the Welsh Matterhorn (although a very, miniature version of the real thing). Although there was a strong breeze I managed to negotiate the ascent and descent over the rock outcrops and even find a sheltered spot for an "elevenses" of peanut butter and rich tea biscuits. On following the ridge down I met many people coming past me on the way up this popular peak. Looking ahead I was somewhat perturbed that the route seemed to be taking me to Porthmadog rather than Beddgelert. Today's stage is quite serpentine and eventually a change in direction took me along a quiet road, across another narrow gauge railway line, and finally on a scenic riverside path beside the Afon Glaslyn. A fair amount of walking over rocks was required and some of the many tourists on the pretty trail had rather inadequate footwear.

Walk up Afon Glaslyn.

At Beddgelert it was lunch, coffee, cake and a little shopping watching the endless jostling of cars turning onto the bridge in a village never designed for the motor car much less anything larger. Accommodation was full and the campsites on my way were closed, so I followed the next stage of the Cambrian Way, a lakeside walk by Lyn Dinas. Visitors were enjoying the view, sitting in family groups by the water in the sunshine.

I faced a quandary, lacking an alternative I needed to wild camp. The next part of the walk involved climbing Snowdon starting along the Watkin path. As the Met office's mountain weather forecast indicated gales on higher ground I did not wish to climb too far up, but lower ground had too many people and farms who might not appreciate my tent. In the event I climbed a little way up the path,  passing people descending for the night, then walked up to ground on the left with some low hills which I thought might provide some shelter and where I would be hidden from any ranger who might wish to move me on. While there was not as much protection as I hoped to the now steady wind, I am hoping my tent will manage, sheltered by a rather small outcrop of rock.

Snowdon from a distance. 

Rhinog Fawr to Maentwrog on the Cambrian Way: Day 16

Fun clambering over rocks in the morning, a gentler hike along cycle paths and roads in the afternoon, then walking by the Ffestiniog railway in the evening.

Sunrise.

As the red and yellow sun reached over distant, grey clouds and grey hills beyond the Trawsfynydd reservoir I was brushing my teeth and packing my tent. Clouds of mist were forming a plume in a nearby valley. Shouldering my rucksack for another day's hike I walked down to Cwm Bychan, my way helped in parts by the "Roman steps", where flagstone have been laid in places to ease the way, an old pack horse route, but not Roman. 

"Roman" steps.

Cwm Bychan farm has a basic campsite cum carpark, just a field by a lake shared with sheep, an honesty box and nothing else. After a chat with a couple in a tent it was climbing again on paths that came and went among rocks, heather, grass and boggy bits. More fun today compared with yesterday as there was more rock to cross, including bare stretches of outcrop making rough pavements, even a little scrambling and as it was still early I was not so tired. Sunny weather certainly helped, it was hazy but the town of Porthmadog and its estuary was visible ahead of me.

One of many summits.

Trawsfynydd nuclear power station in distance. 

Cycle track.

After numerous summits and a steep drop down the last one, I joined the cycle track which ran around the Trawsfynydd reservoir. Clearly visible were the two huge block houses of the old nuclear power station. Although it stopped generating electricity in 1991, decommissioning of the site will take until 2083, evidence that nuclear facilities are hard (and consequently expensive) to dispose of.

After a walk through some woods there were quiet roads into the village of Maentwrog where I dined at the Grapes hotel. All the local accommodation was booked but the barman kindly filled my water bottles before I started the next stage in the guidebook. This began with a walk through oak woodlands. According to a sign, they were isolated remains of ancient Atlantic forests that once covered the landscape, and in which humid conditions encouraged the growth of ferns, mosses, lichens and liverworts. The open, sheep grazed moorland we see today is anything but natural, the natural landscape was destroyed by farming practices centuries ago. Above the woods ran the Ffestiniog railway, a narrow gauge mineral line resurrected by enthusiasts. As the rails looked rusty I assumed few trains were running, no doubt another service hit by the Coronavirus pandemic.

At 6:30 pm I decided it was time to find a spot to camp, this time in rough grass in a secluded valley where no-one will notice me. A bit hummocky but it will do. Tiny midges have forced me inside my tent, still damp from this morning's mist and dew.

Barmouth to Rhinog Fawr on Cambrian Way: Day 15

A sunny day with a long, grassy ridge walk followed by a slow and tiring crossing through the heather and rocks of Rhinog Fach and Rhinog Fawr.

As breakfast was not available before 8:30 am at the hotel, and as I wanted an early start for what the guidebook (correctly) advised would be a long day, I packed up and went in search of breakfast in the town centre. Sadly, none of the Barmouth's café's opened before 8:30 so I settled for a takeaway coffee and bacon roll from a convenience store. A major mistake, the coffee was fine but the bacon was fatty and the roll doughy. I continued to regret it for the next few hours as it stuck heavy in my stomach as I climbed first a long length of steep steps, then up the emerging ridge line on grassy moorland. Once on the ridge, Barmouth and its railway bridge looked small and cute in the distance. Patches of low, fluffy cloud beneath me crossed the estuary beneath a sunny sky. 

Cloud being blown across Barmouth railway viaduct.

Unlike earlier parts of the Cambrian Way there was a small, but real path through the grass that led along the length of the ridge. In places I gained height to reach a summit, in others I lost height to a pass. Following a wall for much of the way, the guidebook was essential to tell me which side of the wall I should be on (I needed the side with stiles over walls joining the one I was following at right angles).

Cambrian Way climbing up grass covered ridge after Barmouth.

Y Llethr was the final summit of the ridge and the start of much more difficult terrain. The path down was steep, stoney with big clumps of heather. Rhinog Fach was the next summit, followed by a steep drop into a pass and a climb up Rhinog Fawr ("fach" means small, "fawr" big). I had been prepared for some scrambling over the Rhinogau (the plural of Rhinog in Welsh) but what I encountered were steep paths which frequently disappeared, over rocks, boulders and deep, thick clumps of heather. Progress was slow. Rewards included seeing a flock of the wild goats which live in this area, views of distant mountains and, as the sun became lower in the sky, layers of rock on the Rhinogau artistically picked out in lines of soft light and shade.

Rhinog Fach 

Wild goat backlight by the evening sun.

It was after 6:00 pm when I approached Llyn Ddu, a small lake after Rhinog Fawr. Although I had planned to spend the night at a camping area at Cwm Bychan I was tired and starting to make mistakes. Twice my foot unexpectedly and suddenly went down a gap between rocks, partially hidden by heather, doing that too many times would result in injury. So I decided to camp by the black coloured lake of Llyn Ddu where a couple had already pitched their tent. While in a shy embrace, they tactfully suggested there was another pitch on the far side of the lake. So that is where I am now located. The ground is wet and soggy so I am hoping that the groundsheet stays waterproof. A wind is now making ripples on the lake and the tent is flapping but the forecast for tomorrow is good.

Cadair Idris to Barmouth on Cambrian Way: Day 14

A journey of four parts: the peaks of Cadair Idris, before dropping into lower hills, then flat ground around the estuary and finally the sensual delights of Barmouth (viz coffee and cake, shower and beer).

As I crunched on biscuits and a granola bar for breakfast in the cosy warmth of my sleeping bag, through the  tent flaps the sun was reddening the sky before rising majestic over distant hills (the Long Mynd in Shropshire maybe). 

Sunrise from Cadair Idris.

Reluctantly packing up I climbed up the ridge across the rough grass to the rocks of Penygadair, the highest summit of Cadair Idris, admiring the steep cliffs of the surrounding range. From the trig point I could see my route down to Barmouth, the sea and estuary, and in the further grey distance, up the Rhinogau and onto Snowdon. There is a stone shelter beside the summit but it was rather damp inside and I am glad I camped.

The way down.

Curious sheep.

From Penygadair the Cambrian Way starts off down the relatively easy "Pony Trail", but rather than following it down to lower ground, it heads off up yet one more summit before finally descending down a steep slope, lacking a path, with rough ground, reeds, prickly gorse and the like to finally join a small road. A circuitous route follows, no doubt to visit one of the lakes in the area and a steep sided, steeply dropping wooded valley where foaming water cascades down over rocks (the Arthog waterfalls). A lady I passed described it as exhilarating. Finally reaching flat ground, the trail wanders over an old railway, now a popular cycle track, before reaching the wooden viaduct that still carries trains over the Mawddach estuary to Barmouth. As it was built in 1867 I was surprised such a wooden structure was still standing. Maintenance work of some kind was underway no doubt to stop it falling down. There is a pedestrian walkway cum cycle track beside the railway line on the viaduct from which a family was watching the oyster catchers pecking at the sand banks and generally making a noise.

View down towards Barmouth. 

Wooden viaduct to Barmouth.

Barmouth is a Victorian resort full of people and their dogs. Fortunately I had booked a room some days ago as all the Bed & Breakfast establishments I passed had "no vacancies" signs. September is usually less popular in Britain than July and August as children are at school, but with the Coronavirus pandemic holidays seem to have been pushed back and many people were enjoying the afternoon sun and the fish and chips.