LLAIS Y MYNYDD
ISSUE 5
The Snowdonia, Mountain Bully, Dave's 14 Peaks, Scrambled 14 Peaks, A family day out,
Sunrise on Yr Wyddfa, Mr Angry.
The Snowdonia Marathon might be known as Europe's toughest marathon but to John,Iolo and myself it was a superb run in our own backyard.After a flat street-based twenty-six miles of the London,the Snowdonia was a celebration of mountains,lakes and the love of running.
As I ran over Pen y Pass I could see the front runners speeding down the Gwynant.I knew John and Iolo would be well ahead of me but I had my own race to run.To finish meant keeping to my own pace and focusing on the hard miles ahead knowing the agony of Bwlch y Groes hill had to be suffered at twenty miles.
The support from family and friends was fantastic.The friendly faces and encouraging cheers dissolved the miles and eased the pain.I shared all the hardships with my friend Lisa who was running her first marathon - a brave girl.There had been no sign of John and Iolo on the route which meant they were well on their way.At Waunfawr with only six miles to go I was feeling strong but the "wall" loomed ahead,it meant mind into neutral,all reserved energy called upon and a steady pace up the hill.The top was a joy.There were plenty of smiling faces to encourage me,someone shouted "you're looking good",I was on an adrenalin high.I could see Llanberis,bathed in autumn sunshine in the valley
below,looking lovelier than it had ever looked before.I was nearly there,I was nearly home.The steep down-hill was a killer.Lisa and I passed casualties suffering from cramp and other injuries,we felt pleased to be able to keep going despite our tired and aching legs.
John and Iolo,my heroes,were at the finish line to cheer me in.They had completed the toughest marathon in Europe in an amazing time of 3-38-52.I finished fifty minutes later and could say with pride - I did it.
Del.
There is a new breed of mountaineer emerging,he is called "The Mountain Bully".During one of the Club's Saturday walks a member was having difficulties crossing the pinnacles on Crib Goch when the Mountain Bully appeared.The member was repeatedly shouted at."Get a grip on yourself,what kind of man are you",he bellowed,"grab this bloody sling and pull yourself up for Christ's sake".The Bully was indeed a frightening sight with his beetroot-red face and froth coming from the mouth.
For our Club's members safety,we have issued a description of the Mountain Bully so that they can avoid him in the future.He is 5`9,bushy eyebrows and always wears a green pertex top.He can be found drinking in the Vic and will always bully you for a pint.He has also taken to bullying people from the air while paragliding.You have been warned.
My 14 Peaks started at 10-30pm on Friday night with a pint in the Vic not to mention a nip of saki outside Snedd's house. It was now or never, I was ready and wanted to do it - it was a clear night and a pleasant walk to the summit of Yr Wyddfa. After finding Berwyn we set off at 4-00am, in no time we arrived at Carnedd Ugain. Now only 12 to do, a bit slippy on Crib Goch with the damp morning, and soon off the north ridge. I hadn't walked this stretch before and found it a long way. We met Dick and Myfanwy at Nant Peris with supplies, then after a change of socks it was off to Elidir Fawr, we could have done without the rain but I was determined not to hold up the lads and was well pleased when I was second to the summmit. I was still full of spirit reaching Y Garn except for a pain in the kidneys, probably because of all the damp mist. As we came off Y Garn it cleared for a few minutes and then someone mentioned Barry Pinions name, instantly it clouded over again. I missed the bacon butties at Llyn y Cwn, then off up to Glyder Fawr. Thank God for Steve's boots, this was all I saw, head down step by step to the top. I had worried about this stretch, but it was over in half an hour and we had the easy bit over the Glyders, it was treacherous on the granite rocks to the top of Glyder Fach, every step a potential broken leg - now down the scree next to Bristly Ridge, I hate this bit at the best of times, I came down it faster than ever so as to get off it, this meant sitting in the rain at Bwlch Tryfan waiting for the others to catch up, still I was going well, but this was soon to change. The first time I found it hard going was up Tryfan in the rain - what a welcome sight to see family and friends waiting at Ogwen. They never know how much a lift it is to see them there. After a change of clothes, a team photo and much debate we decided to carry on. We had the help of Barry and Ian's fresh legs to help us to the top of Pen yr Ole Wen.From here I had thought the stretch to Dafydd was easy - not so, this was the hardest part of the whole walk for me. Dizzy, feeling faint, about to collapse, I wouldn't have made it had I not had a coffee off Barry, this and a mars bar revived me. I could feel the energy fill my body, I was like a spring chicken. Across to Llewelyn, almost there now.
We dropped our sacks with Ian on the way to Yr Elen, and picked up three Yorkshire lads doing the 14 Peaks who hadn't been on the Carneddau before - we walked on a bearing to Foel Grach, it was wet, windy and cold now, I was just on auto pilot. The distances appeared much greater than usual - we dropped our sacks with Ian at Garnedd Uchaf then went off to Foel Fras, no jumping over the bogs, my legs couldn't take it. I just strode through the water, I was wet anyway. Finally I saw the fence to my right, not far now, then I saw the wall - God that wall goes a long way, then I could just make out the top through the mist. It was now 8-15pm, John, Iolo, Steve, Garri and myself. John took a quick photo, it was not fit weather for celebrations, all we had to do now was walk another five miles, but at least it was downhill and a pint at the end of it. Once off the mountain Steve and I caught a bus from Gerlan much to Garri's dismay, he still says I haven't done it. Then at 10-30pm, 24 hours later, I walked into the Vic for a well earned pint.
Dave Iddon.
YR WYDDFA - WRY FADDY
GARNEDD UGAIN - URGED AND I NAG
CRIB GOCH - BIRCH COG
ELIDIR FAWR - I DRAW RIFLE
Y GARN - ANGRY
GLYDER FAWR - DRAG WRY ELF
GLYDER FACH - CHARGED FLY
TRYFAN - FRY ANT
PEN YR OLE WEN - ONE NEW REPLY
CARNEDD DAFYDD - DAD FEND, DAD CRY
CARNEDD LLYWELYN - DENY LAND, CRY WELL
YR ELEN - (No words available)
FOEL FRACH - HALF FORCE
FOEL FRAS - LASER OFF
The beauty and immensity of some mountains haunt and stir your imagination, to me the highest mountain in the Alps was such a one. I dreamt of reaching it's lofty summit and sharing the experience with my husband and two daughters. As time went by my dream became an obsession - there was only one thing to do, we had to climb Mont Blanc.
On the 14th of August 1993 we left our home in Snowdonia and headed for Chamonix.
We had driven to the Alps many times before, enjoying the quaint untidiness of the French towns. The old buildings with their red tiled roofs and shuttered windows with bright geraniums cascading from wrought iron balconies, but for me this journey was very special. I was heading for my dream mountain.
The Aguille du Belvedare, 8840ft was the first peak in our acclimatisation programme. From it's rocky summit the view was spectacular. The jagged rocky ridges of the Chamonix Aguilles reached out into the azure blue sky, the blue ice of glaciers gracefully curved through the valleys and Mont Blanc's white brilliance radiated in the afternoon sunshine. We were bewitched by it's loveliness and knew that while the good weather lasted we had to reach it's summit.
The next morning found us on the first telepherique from Les Houches to Bellevue to catch the mountain train to take us to Nid d' Aigle (Eagle's Nest). This was the easy part of the ascent, we knew that from Nid d' Aigle the going would become arduous and in some places dangerous, but with much excitement and anticipation we boarded the train packed with climbers and walkers. A Frenchman inquired "Mont Blanc" and I proudly replied "yes".
By late afternoon we were at the Gouter Hut, we were tired but very happy with our achievement. We had safely crossed the infamous Grand Couliour without injuries despite the rocks hurtling down and shattering into fragments with every contact with the mountain - it was no place to linger. We had climbed a 2000ft rock rib, our heavy sacks getting heavier with each step as the heat of the day intensified and the air became thinner. We were now 12,500ft up Mont Blanc, the worst was over and the best was yet to come.If the weather held another day then the summit would surely be ours. We left the noisy and overcrowded hut and found a shallow pit in the snow for our night bivouac. After a simple meal and a refreshing cup of tea we settled down in our sleeping bags, there was no hope of much sleep but at least we were resting our weary bodies.
One by one the stars became brighter as daylight faded, the cumulus cloud which had formed around the Aguille du Midi thinned out and soon moonlight shone upon the sleeping mountains.
At 2.00am we emerged from the warmth and safety of our bivi-bags to the sound of low whispering and footsteps on the frozen snow - people were stirring, it was time to go. We stepped into our crampons, roped up and joined the moving line of light from numerous head-torches of people of all Nationality. It was wonderful to know we were all driven by the same desire and shared the same summit hope. As we laboured up the narrowing and steepening snowy ridges of the Grand Bosse and Petite Bosse, we were treated to a spectacular Alpine dawn, While the valleys far below were still engulfed in dark twilight, one by one, depending on height, the rosy tint of the morning sun caught the surrounding snow covered peaks, it was a sight without an equal.
On the summit a bitterly cold wind chilled us and blew spindrift into our faces, but the sheer joy of being there discounted any discomfort we may have felt. The great physical effort we had made to combat breathlessness, dizziness and weariness due to the altitude was rewarded by a magnificent vista of great Alpine peaks now dwarfed by the mightiness of Mont Blanc.
I turned to my family and smiled - knowing I had gone beyond my dream.
Del.
With two attempts behind us to see the sunrise from Yr Wyddfa,the second being in particularly bad weather,the return over Crib y Ddysgl and Crib Goch in rain and high winds,it was nearly 11.00am on us getting down into Nant Peris and a drink in the Vaynol Arms,I remember Emrys being asked if he was eighteen,most hurt because he was - just.
We thought third time lucky,it was a clear evening,a settled spell,a drink in Llanberis before we started,looking for a suitable pub we came across one with really good singing drifting out of the window.this was for us,we went inside to find an empty bar and a record playing - ever been had.Having at last had our drink we set off up the Llanberis track,the weather was set fair,I dont remember how we passed the time at the summit but what I do remember to this day was the sight of the mountains and lakes just before sunrise,the colours are hard to describe,everything was a crimson/pink effect,one of those truly magical mountain moments you dont ever forget.
As we used to say "One for the book".
Howard
I'm not angry about anything this month, why should I be, the snow has gone, the sun is shining, buds are appearing on the trees, wild animals are everywhere for the taking - er! I mean to be photographed and ......the birds are singing. Birds!!
that only means one thing - Birdwatchers, don't you just hate them, congregating at every farm gate from here to Timbuktu with their telescopes and endoscopes and everything else that ends with scope. Call them twitchers if you may, the only twitching I like to see is their legs after I've hit them on the back of the head with my spade. If I had my way I'd fill all those tiny pockets on their Beirut - type waistcoat with lead and push them into the lake, then I'd melt down their telescopes and make myself a fine 12 Bore shotgun and shoot all the blasted birds they're supposed to be watching. When I hear birds twittering in the trees every morning, my blood boils I can tell you, and another thing.............