Brecon Beacons – My Greatest Fans

And so on Wednesday, I drove off to an out-of-the-way parking spot on a moorland road and wandered off over the parched moorland to Llyn y Fan Fawr – a lovely tarn on a little bench beneath the scarp slope of some Fans. The Fans, in particular started with Fan Hir, followed by Fan Brycheiniog and then Picws Du, overlooking the Llyn  y Fan Fach, which appeared to be almost empty from above.

These fans and the Picws have a fairly gentle, moorland side, and a stupendous terraced scarp side, as do quite a lot of the Brecon Beacons. It makes for exciting walking along the edge and big views.
From Picws, I returned to the bwlch and contoured out the two Fans mentioned above, and returned to the car the way I had come.

A cracking walk – 7 Miles and 2100 feet.
And on the fourth day, the forecast was for heavy rain, so I stayed around the tent waiting for it to start whilst drinking coffee and reading a book.
The chickens visited for a while, but they had to leave early as they had some pecking, clucking  and strutting to do
It didn’t rain. In fact it got quite warm. I had fish and chips for my tea. The batter wasn’t very good.
I determined to walk more the next day. Dim Arsio as they say in Wales (No messing about)

And then it was Friday. I had two Hewitts left in the Beacons, and they were both fairly isolated and far apart, so I could only sensibly do one of them. I chose Garreg Las – which is a very Pennine-ish hill immediately to the West of Picws Du. I reached it by a zig-zaggy road from Llandovery.

I’d worked out the easiest route possible which involved contouring alongside some lime quarries on the flank of Foel Fraith to a wide bwlch and then over some big scree fields, resonant of Cross Fell’s stony necklace to a pair of huge and ancient cairns on the wide summit.

I returned by bagging Foel Fraith where I met a couple I’d seen two days earlier by Llyn Fan Bach. They had the day off yesterday, but at least they’d had lots of rain. A rather nice waterfall on the way back provided a long rest stop.

This area is obviously Carboniferous, which explains it’s Pennine – like features, which include loads of sink holes and one or two potholes. Just like home.
Which is where I went then next day.
8 Miles and 1300 feet (I started high)
Must reproof the tent.
The next group of hills in the area for the baggings will have to be The Black Mountains….  ooer….

A bit more Brecon bagging

Tuesday, I think it was, was blazing hot – quite a bit hotter than Monday, which was fairly hot.
I decided to have a drive-around bagging day and so went off to the West for a neat little group of Marilyns on the edge of the Black Mountains.
On the way I came across a buzzard hopping along the roadside with what appeared to be the bloodied carcase of a fox. I stopped the car (slowly and eventually due to the delicate braking system) and it flew off, being mugged by a couple of field crows on the way. it was during this brief bit of excitement that I realised that I’d left the camera in the tent….  dhuhhhh….  So there’s just a picture of one of the campsite chickens who visited for breakfast. (We both had porridge, but mine had been cooked. She preferred it scatterred around….)

And so I parked the car on the bwlch or bealach between Mynydd Troed and Mynydd Langorse, climbing the very steep 250 metre heave of the first one of those two first. There was a fine, green view of the Welsh borders from the top.
After reading the paper for a while and scoffing my lunch, I went up the less steep or demanding Mynydd Langorse, who’s top is somewhere in a patch of heather. I made a circular route back to the bealach or bwlch….
After reading the paper a bit more (I was on holiday, remember) I drove the few miles to the hamlet of Pennorth, where, after driving around for a while, I managed to find the village hall, which isn’t exactly in the village, but which has a car park and information boards for a walk to the cafe by the lake and another up the Allt yr Esgair – a fine, wooded spine of rock with a brythonic hill fort on the top and also the roman road from Brecon to Abergavenny, which is now a bridleway.
Another fine view of the valley of the River Usk (?Uskdale…) and the Brecon beacons. Worra cracking hill for a solstice party, or just for looking at the view of Uskdale….
And that was that. Three Marilyns ticked, 7 miles and 2000 feet of up.
Tonight a Welsh Lamb casserole and a bottle of Chilean plonk. The chickens had some more oats……..

A Brief Brecon Bagging Binanzie

It was almost inevitable that I would eventually return triumphant from various Welsh places (with strange sounding names) – although the clutch and brakes on the hire car made this perhaps less inevitable than should first be assumed….

But first there was the little matter of the Over the Hill Club Spring Meet and Dinner quite near Llyn Ogwen. I missed the exciting ascent of Tryfan (phew…. close run thing, that…) but got there for the dinner which was at the Bryn Tyrch Inn at Capel Curig and was quite excellent, as was the taxi ride there and back from the campsite for the boozings. Mr Gledhill, the Organisor, did us proud and it were a reet good do. (East Lancs is as near as I get to Welsh, diolch….)

And in the morning, I lurched off to an obscure parking spot “in a field” (according to Birkett) at the far end of the Nantlle Ridge to climb the mainly harmless Mynydd Graig Goch with Peter Crawford, a TGO challenger and Fight Club Hiker.

We had a good walk. The England/Germany “match” (ha!) started without us and after the jollities and pleasantries of the hill, Peter went off to his TV to more brutal facts of life including the second half….   whilst I drove South with radio Wales, who only mentioned the match in passing  “Not looking very good is it Bron?” “What’s that Ivor?”
“The match – not looking very good” “Dunno really, Ivor, who’s playing…?  pass me another leek by the way….”
And so I arrived at Brecon, put up the tent and tucked into the remainder of the Fathers day whisky.

In the morning, I climbed Fan Nedd. (Van Nethh). And once on the top, I looked over towards Fan Gyhirych (I can tell many of you are struggling by now…) and decided it wasn’t very far, so I went over and bagged it. On the way back, I also bagged Allt Fawr and another one that I’d seriously need to look up, but it was of little account anyway, apart from being 604 metres high.


A sneaky contouring path around the corrie (Cwm) of Fan Nedd meant that I didn’t have to climb it again.
Later, on the campsite, I had a drinks and brown bread party with the campsite chickens. They had the brown bread.
Another instalment later…….
I’m quite warming to this by the way…..

For those interested in statistics - The walks were 4 miles and 1200 feet and 10 miles and 2100 feet respectively

More Brecon Pictures

Whilst we're waiting for the first trip along Hadrian's Wall to start (see below), I just thought I'd fill in the gap with a few more pics of the "main" Brecon Beacons ridge. Inevitably, most of these involve the camera being pointed towards Pen y Fan which draws the eye magnetically, (not like an etch-a-sketch yer great daft wazzock*). I'm showing the pics coz I finks its nice.

Really attentive readers may well note that one of the pictures is a tree and not a hill. This is one of the very fine oak trees encountered on the approach to Sugar Loaf, an almost 2000 foot hill just next to Abergavenny. These trees are in the care of the National Trust and you just want to hug and kiss them and have their saplings. I fawn over their acorns. I stroke their gnarly roots and I rub myself against them in a rather embarrassing manner.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the pics.

Notes: Hadrian's Wall - I start tommorrow at Wallsend and, hopefully, end at Heddon on the Wall where the 685 Stagecoach bus will take me back to Newcastle. I'm really looking forward to this. I might pick up a bit of latin, or maybe a Gregg's Cheese salad sandwhich.

* Wazzock - A colloquial Yorkshire dialect word invented in a bus queue in Batley at 11:30 pm on a Saturday night in February 1967 when, due to an over-enthusiastic night of beer swilling, one chap dropped his wife's fish chips and peas in a mucky puddle and ruined both the supper and his chances of a bit of rumpy-pumpy on Sunday morning.Use as in "yer great wazzock" A "little wazzock" is a child who has just covered your new trousers in chocolate fingerprints or has had a toilet accident in the back of the car despite being told time and time again to have a wee before you set off..

Add this to your dictionaries.

Next week, we'll be exploring the words "Spawny Wart" Maybe we could get all this translated into latin.

Brecon Bagging Bonanza

In order to prevent repetition, and for space to move on to new things next week, I’ll just make the one posting about the little trip to the Brecon Beacons.
I must say, though, that in terms of the number of things ticked off the list and, generally, “things to be achieved”, this was quite a successful expedition.
It started out in the usual unpromising kind of way with a specially easy bag of the spectacularly unexceptional but not unapproachable but possibly underrated Long Mountain, somewhere quite close to Welshpool in the rain. I expect that if you live in Welshpool and have more time to explore, that this fine ridge would be just the thing when its not raining
Then, after putting up the tent and festering for an evening, the time came to bag a Hewitt. In view of the driech wetness and general clamminess all round, Carreg lwyd was chosen and this, in turn repaid the effort by being a bit dull. I bet it would be nice on a warm summers day in, say, early July. But not today.
And then came Corn Du, Pen y Fan , Y Cribyn and Fan y Big. Anybody visiting these parts should be minded to visit evil and unpleasant things (ribbet, Rachel!) on any person even thinking about suggesting that these hills ought to be or even could be missed out of a visit to the Brecon Beacons. They really do just have to be done. They’re great. Fantastic. The highlight of the week. I’ve only included one pic, just for illustration. They’re very popular, so I expect that vast swathes of the readership( hah!) will have already been up these, so you won’t miss a few photos. I might use some later on when an irrelevant picture about something or other is called for.
And one of them has a rude name, so even more reason to go up it. (Not Corn Du)
Fan Lia and Fan Fawr with a few other grassy things came next, and then Waun Fach and a little Dewey by the name of Brian or something, followed by a plunge through oakwoods due to a path disappearing when it shouldn’t have. Some people find this kind of thing a bit annoying. I quite enjoy the challenge. And a decisive approach gets things done, even if you turn out the other end just a bit scratched. There’s always a danger that you might get shouted at, though, by some irate farmer or the occupant of a bungalow who is just getting ready for his bath. Or something.
Lastly, I had a day Marilyn bagging near Abergavenny. Sugar Loaf was done in mist and a bit of rain, but through superb and spectacularly beautiful oakwoods, with quite a few “veteran” trees. I followed this with the diminutive but green and also beautiful Bryn Arw, with mewing buzzards, a man scything bracken in the old-fashioned way (with a scythe!) and showers queuing up along the valley.
Lastly was Ysgyryd Fawr (The skirrid), a steep lump which seems to be a volcanic plug, very similar to all of those Central Scottish plugs. Steep and wooded and brackeny with a bit of archaeology on the top in the form of “St Michaels Chapel” St Michael being the patron saint of ladies pants and had his chapel, apparently on the top of an older cairn. Two ladies were looking for this place and we had a nice chat. They remarked on the fact that the view was now from the Gower to Shropshire. I couldn’t confirm or deny this. I expect they were right.
These little border hills are just the thing for a jaded hill bagger, though the thigh-muscle wrecking properties of the steep little buggers shouldn’t be underestimated. Fab stuff. I’ll be back.

43 miles, 11000 feet of uphill , 10 Hewitts, 7 marilyns and 3 deweys bagged. + 1 lamb Balti and 1 fish and chips (apologies to the lass in the chippy who thought I asked for two fish and chips. Sorry, pet)