Friday12, September.
Start Point SH705518 (115)
Finish Point SH687535 (115)
I arrive at a small parking area, if you could call it that opposite a small row of cottages in the area marked on the map as 'Blaenau Dolwyddelan', at the eastern end of the Crimea Pass. In the distance, across the Afon Lledr, a small river with nice grassy banks, eventually leading down to the Afon Conwy in the Conwy valley, I hear the sounds of a steam train puffing its way across the valley floor.
Its early afternoon, mid September. Its damp and overcast. This week was supposed to be an 'Indian Summer' but like the summer itself, its failed to show. The forecast for this trip was much the same as usual, overcast, clearing for a few hours of sunny spells in the late afternoon, a clear sky until about 2 am when the rain was to come in until the latter part of the following morning. The thought of a clear evening gave me some cheer as the thought of a few beers and a bit of star gazing, mainly to practise a few navigational techniques using the stars was something to look forward to and helped motivate me on the mainly uphill two and a half mile hike to the lake. Backpack on, dogs out, car locked, time to head off into the woods.
The track is very easy to follow. If the gates were unlocked you could drive your car right to the lake, which is what I think the fishermen do as the track is clear and free of grass and weed, although, at one point, just past a clearing the super healing Plantain grows in the centre of the track. I take a few leaves in case of ant stings or bites I may receive on the trip.
The wood is predominantly made up of soft wood with some Oaks and Silver Birches along the edges. A few grassy tracks shoot off here and there but don't lead very far until succumbing to the dark pines.
Halfway up and the woods open up on the left. Recent Forestry operations have left the whole left hand side a tangled mess of dead branches and old stumps. One advantage of this is the view across to Foel Goch and down to a small river named Ceunant Ty'n Y Ddol with its grassy banks. There is a track leading down to this river that I will one day explore as from up above it looks like it has a few nice camping spots. A couple of hundred metres more and the track branches into two. Turning right here will lead you on a less scenic reservoir , which is nameless on the map. I walked here last year looking for a camping spot but was not happy with the location, but found on my return a small path leading off to the left. It was Spring at the time and the side of the path was overflowing with Wood Sorrel, some just coming into flower. A small stone wall escorted me some of the way down with small stunted Oaks on ether side. This path has become known to me as the 'Sorrel Path'.
Back to today, I take the left fork, the gate is padlocked but you can get around the side, carrying on up for a while until the track levels out. The wood has been felled on both sides now as the wind will remind you as you walk in the open.
The track levels out before re-entering the wood on the final stage of the hike, then taking a gentle down hill slope, passing a bubbling stream I come to an open turning point which signifies the end of the hike. An opening to my left takes me down past the old stone ruin to the lakes shore.
I take off my Rucksack and sit, sheltered in the corner of the ruin. I wonder as before what it was built for. It even has its own fireplace.
People have been here since my last visit in Spring, a few times I think as many stone fire rings have been built and the ruin has a slight sooty smell to it. To my dismay, it seems I have company for the night. I go over to meet them, more to suss them out realy. Four men in there 30's I guess were setting up there camp on the nice green area about 300 m away from the ruin. They had travelled from Reading that morning, leaving at 7 am to get here. They have good tents and outdoor clothing, seemed mature, not the idiot kids I had dreaded.
I decide to stay. If I camp in the usual place, a flattish piece of land on the Southern side of the ruin, it will put it and a patch of woodland between us. These two features with the distance, breeze which comes and goes and a bubbling little brook, I shouldn't here them too much. I'm not expecting too much rowdiness though, fingers crossed.
I settle down in my corner of the ruin to make a well earned Coffee and have a read for a while. I've bought along a book entitled 'The Walkers Guide To Outdoor Clues and Signs', by Tristan Gooley. I'm hoping to use this tonight with my star navigations. As I mentioned earlier, its supposed to be a clear evening. Rain due in at about 3 to 4 am but looking at the sky I'm not too sure. I'm now contemplating putting the tent up earlier than usual.
I'm sitting with my coffee watching my new English friends. Two are playing 'skimmers', cans of beer in hand, the other two seem to be collecting fire wood by the sound of it. The wood is all pine around here, hope their tents aren't too close to the fire. They are apparently camping here tonight, walking the mountains tomorrow and finding a camp site for a bit of Glamping tomorrow night.
I make the decision to set camp early due to the look of the clouds and a good call it turns out to be. As the afternoon marches into evening the Midges arrive and start to slowly eat me. And I haven't brought any repellent. My hats not helping that much so my spare T shirt is draped over my head and face as I read a while longer, then the drizzle comes and goes clearing the Midges for a short while only for them to return when the drizzle passes. Then came the rain. Not too heavy but enough to put the waterproofs on and the book back into the rucksack which is then placed neatly into the tent. The only things in the open now are me, my beers and Buddy. Vinnie has snuggled himself up in my sleeping bag, nice, warm and dry.
Following the rain comes the darkness, slowly changing the colours of the landscape, never the same for more than a few minutes until all becomes just different shades of darkness.
My new friends are also out in the rain, playing with their fire. There not making much noise, not that I could here but as so many do at night, they have a fascination with light. Mobile phones shining here and there, a torch shining in the woods or across the lake. What is it with not letting the dark be. Always looking to push it aside, as if people cannot relax in the dark, never knowing what's lurking in the shadows. Thankfully there beer seems to of dried up. I thought of offering them one of mine but realised they needed to get an early night with their big hike in the morning. The beer would be better appreciated by me so I drank it for them. Anyway, they retired to their tents leaving me in peace to finish my beers and cook supper consisting of a pack of Tomato pasta. What a site I must look, beer in hand, waterproofs on leaning against the old ruined walls of old hut, two and a half miles from the nearest house, contemplating life in the pouring rain.
It wasn't a bad nights sleep, the rain woke me up a few times but there's something cosy being snuggled up in my sleeping bag, Vinnie keeping my feet warm and Buddy cuddled up beside me, listening to the rain hammering down on the tent. I was eventually woken by Buddies long, wet tongue licking my face as if to say 'Rise and shine !!' It was still raining but easing off and by 9 it stopped completely. Making the most of this dry time I hurried out to strike camp. As I finished, my new friends were taking there leave with good byes and good lucks. I sat down for a minute, contemplating the trip. I so wanted my morning coffee but as my matches had got damp whilst lighting the Hexi stove last night this was not going to happen.
So, with everything packed I hid my rucksack and embarked on a walk to the North Western side of the lake. The lake is shaped like a number '8', almost two separate lakes divided by a row of stepping stones between them. This section of the lake lies right beneath the two summits, Carnedd-Y-Cribau and Clogwyn Bwlch Y Maen. There I found a few suitable sites for camping, one obviously used before as there was a ready made fire pit left by previous campers in the past. With the recci over its back to the hut to pick up my rucksack and make my way back to the car.
The rain had returned and as mentioned earlier, the barren, tree felled section is totally open to the elements. I battle through the wind and rain, longing to get back to the shelter of the woods. It seems recently, since I bought my new tent in fact, that wherever I go I'm bumping into people. On the my return I meet seven lads hiking up to the lake. That's twelve people on this trip. On the last three occasions I been up this track I've not met a soul. Think I need to find a new walk.
Finely, wet and tired, I reach the car. Dogs in the boot, pack in the back, a change of clothes is just what the doctor ordered. I hope no one is watching as I strip off the cold wet layers to put on the nice dry clothes I've kept in the car for just this occasion. With the car smelling of damp dogs I start up the engine and make my way home.
