Welsh Bagging from Fedwr Gog

Fedwr Gog is the farmstead base of this year’s October Bagfest. We often have an October holiday in Wales cos the accommodation is so much cheaper and the weather is usually still a bit summery.
Its near Corwen. I am trying to bag hills denoted as “Hewitts”
 
Anyway – Bagging day 1 was Moel Fferna to Pen Bwlch Llandrillo including lots and lots of heather and three Deweys. This is grouse country. Its hard work. I saw nobody else at all till I was coming off the hill where a couple of shepherds and their dogs were doing whatever it is shepherds do to sheep at this time of year.


There’s a lot of gathering sheep into sheepfolds going on. I noticed that the field in front of Fedwr Gog was occupied by a number of tups and some dewy-eyed ewes. There was naughtiness. No foreplay was involved. Some of the tups were having disagreements. One sustained a bloody injury….. Three rams of a different breed, however, displayed their superiority by not getting involved in any of this. They were still and quiet and occasionally nuzzled each other as if sharing a secret. They certainly wouldn't be producing any offspring next year. maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned this.

Three days later, I met Fight Club Hiker and TGO-er Peter and his dog Lily at Llandrillo and we went off to bag yet more Berwyn heather. This time it was Cadair Berwyn to Moel Sych. The ground was waterlogged and there were some short but fierce showers. Lily had a couple of snaps at Superdawg, mainly, we noticed, whenever there was food being consumed. Bruno was submissive. he’s not always like that…..
A good walk, though with another 11 miles and 2700 feet of up.

There was some incidental bagging following a trip to Ruthin, but the next major event was Arenig Fawr. Peter and Lily attended once more but a Manchester contingent of Fight Club Hikers failed to arrive. So , a bit late, we set off up the outrageously steep ridge up on to Arenig Fawr. there was dense hillfog and a lively breeze which would have taken your hat off had it not been properly fixed on.

Arening Fawr has two main tops, and the second one suddenly appeared out of the mist as we approached.  the mist cleared completely and quite suddenly and we bog-trotted off to the bwlch (bealach/pass/gap..) below Moel Llynfant. This looked very big from here, it has to be said.

Peter decided that as he wasn’t a bagger, he had no need to torture himself with the struggle up to the top, so we parted here and me and Bruno had a wind-assisted ascent to the rocky top where I allowed Bruno to witness the consumption of a Lancashire Cheese and Onion butty.

Yet another three days later, a frosty and foggy morning saw me parking the knipemobile at Llanuwchllyn at the head of Llyn Tegid for the long Northern ridge of Aran Benllyn (Hill of Cough Medicine). We (me and the dog) soon popped out of the fog into clear blue skies, big views and very warm sun. The long and gentle ridge is an absolute delight, in both directions. After Aran Benllyn there’s the rounded Erw Ddafad-ddu before the final rocky climb up on to Aran Faddwy, at 905 metres, the high point of the fortnight in more ways than the obvious.

There were other walkers on the top. Away to the South, an island stood out of the valley fog. It was decided that this was Plumlumnon.
This ridge is a sheer joy to walk, particularly in this special kind of weather. I have to say that this kind of thing seems quite common in October.  I came down the same way, slowly, although a downhill romp of the gentle gradients would have been possible. Sometimes, though, things need to be savoured.
With a little time to spare, I took the gated mountain road towards Trawsfynyd and finished off the day with a quick bag of two outlying tops Foel Boeth and Gallt y Darren – with specially cracking views to the West.

An intermediate couple of tops just south of Llangollen in a quick hour and a bit whilst Maggie read a  book in the car was a post-lunch treat. Moel Morfydd and Moel y Gaer (it has a hillfort – i.e. “caer” on the top) A bit foggy and 1300 feet of climbing in just 3 miles.

Every holiday has to have an anti-climax, though, so a couple of days later, I went off to the top of Cwm Hirnant for the bagging of five heathery  tops – Pen y Bencyb Trefeilw, Y Goes Fagl, Cyniau Nod, Cefn Gwyntog, Stac Rhos and Pen y Cerrig Duon. These are served closely by an old landrover track, but there is much heather and tussock-bashing to do. This is almost as rough as Kielder. There is some danger to the integrity of the ankles. Its rough stuff. the weather was grey and cold too. We finished fairly early and repaired to the Co-OP in Y Bala for a bottle of medicine (Chilean as it happens)

48 Hewitts to go, 47 of them in Wales. I might give this an extra effort next year.

Honey I’m Home

This is me back from sunny Wales (It only rained three times…!)  As you can see from the title picture, we are all feeling a bit jaded from all that uphill stuff – I’ll be doing just the one blog post about Wales shortly.

and I’ve been catching up with emails and what the cat did behind the TV whilst we were away – but what about that competition. I had a small flood of entries – and there is one correct answer….. 

But its not quite the time to announce this yet. But nearly

As for Wales, I think it was reasonably successful. There is a score on the door.

I managed to bag 5 Marilyns, 9 HuMPs, 13 Hewitts, 20 Nuttalls, 6 Deweys and Clwyd’s county top.

I have to say that there is a lot of overlap between each of the categories of hill mentioned.

There were 58 miles and 14000 feet of upwardly mobile struggling  and an equivalent of downhill coasting. I got wet twice (briefly) and had one magnificent temperature inversion and company on two of the seven walks.

I’ll do the post and the competition winner shortly……

I can’t wait….

 

Intermission and Apportionment of Responsibility

Yet another of one of those long gaps is now about to happen during which most of my readers disappear. This time I'm off to Wales to bag Berwyns and other stuff near Y Bala

First of all, I’d just like to remind peeps about the competition. There’s not been many entries. the prize is a merino wool buff. Its very nice. if nobody wins it, I get it.
All you have to do, folks, is send me a message with the name of a Yorkshire Dales 610 metre high hill on it. Its not rocket science. You might win – gwan give it a try.
To win, the hill name must be the one that I intend to do last in my series of Yorkshire Dales hills since October last year. There’s only two left – this is a strong clue – it’s a hill which is close to another one.
And it’s in Yorkshire.
A comment on this post, or the other one, will do nicely.
In the meantime, the video below provides a nice scapegoat for the damage to Alan Sloman’s digits.

Peebles-Moffat Second Full day

Camp Sheepgrapes was a miserable place at 6:30 am on Monday morning. The wind was a bit windy and the drizzle was a bit drizzly. Nothing dramatic, except for the fact that there was no visibility.
We left at about 8:30, I think and we crossed the beck (burn) and slogged the enormous slog up onto Molls Cleuch Dodd. We were handrailing again, which is extremely effective and quick in this kind of clag.

After Molls Cleuch Dodd, the walking is incredibly easy for a long way and so we easily took in Firthybrig Head and Firthhope Rig and then down to Rotten Bottom for a bit of shelter. It was here, I’m afraid to say, that the very last of Humphrey’s pies was furtively scoffed whilst the others tended to their brews and chatted about the relative weights of various rucksack designs.
Rotten Bottom was interesting in a Pennine kind of way, but it’s reputation is exaggerated when compared with most North Pennine mosses.  Its a bit boggy for a few yards.

We contoured out most of Cape Law and fought bravely to get the team up on to Hart Fell where it was even foggier.
Falcon Craig and Swatte fell were quickly swatted, disappointingly without any view at all, for this is a very fine place in the hills.

We descended tiredly over Blue cairn and on to Greygill  Head where there was a decision to be made. two alternatives were available – the first consisting of a very steep plunge through deep bracken to the track – a route taken by me, the other Mike and Piglet, or a crossing of a barbed wire fence for an easier descent in a sheep pasture. It was this fence that did for Alan’s hand.

It was, apparently, very nasty indeed and I’m really quite pleased that I was sitting beside the track scoffing an energy bar  and playing with Piglet when it happened.
Shirley (Peewiglet) did a particularly fine job in bandaging up the gory mess and Martin, John and Tony rushed off to organise some transport, Martin jogging/running into Moffat to  bring back John’s car.

And so, Alan, Shirley and Andrew were whisked off to Carlisle for urgent treatment to Alan’s poorly digits whilst the remainder finished the walk.
Ian Shiel met us in Moffat and we had a brief and ever so slightly boozy session in the Black Bull.
Tony and Christine left for a lay by in Ribblesdale and Ian took me, Mike and Martin back to Peebles in his campervan after breakfast the next morning, having postponed the Moffat-Peebles leg due to a duff weather forecast and general battle weariness.
Today was about 14 miles and another 3000 feet of up.


But what of Peebles-Moffat. this is a really cracking 35 (or so) mile walk. Its not a pushover by any means, though and deserves a bit of respect. You really have to keep plugging away. But its fab, no mistake.
And what of the team?
I think we had fun (Others may confirm or deny this) but I thought it was a jolly jape. And this was a great team. At some points there was real concern for the progress and welfare of each other. Several people had low points and the team was patient and supportive. 
Alan’s unfortunate accident brought out the best in people and its heartening to know that if my stent had failed or something, that, before scoffing my precious pies, they would have all Done Their Best. (Note the capitals, Alan)
At the moment Alan is festering in the RVI in Newcastle with his poorly fingers. We all hope that there will be a full recovery and that once again, Sloman will recapture the well-deserved position of  Cambridgeshire’s nose-picking champion.
Fuller and more gory details of Alan’s specially nasty injury appear on Peewiglet’s Plog, with links on this very blog.

Peebles-Moffat First Full Day

After a cold and frosty but beautiful moonlit night, Camp Alpha awoke slowly, brewed and cooked and all that kinda stuff and stumbled off up through the heather to a little col just South of Dun Rig.
The party waited whilst Martin and Jungle bagged Dun Rig. There was, for a while, bog and heather and tussocky stuff, but gradually the underfootings improved.

After bagging Black law, we lunched in slightly brightening weather at Foulbrig Head. Some trail riders, expecting me to open the gate for them were disappointed and had to dismount. I expect there was bad language and sulking inside those helmets and face disguises.
At this point, John J decided to establish The Jocys Alternative – specially for those with dodgy knees. This consists of the track South to Megget Reservoir and a hop up the road to the Megget Stone. John would establish the site of Camp Sheepgrapes.

The remainder had a bit more tussock bashing to do before a track took us more easily up on to the main Manor Hills ridge. Martin dashed off to bag Dollar Law whilst the less energised took a shortcut onto the ridge and headed off for Cramalt Craig.

Broad Law, which is very broad and has a radio station thingy and an alien spaceship on the top, was our first Corbett and the high point of the walk. It was apparent at this point that many members of the team were getting a bit fragged, so it was heartening to spot John J’s akto pitched beside the beck in the valley bottom. A short and steep descent was enjoyed by some. Piglet enjoyed searching for a mountain hare that had rushed off in another direction.

Camp  was established on short sheep shit and piles of grass. A small cache of medicinal supplies was produced and this was used to wash down Peewiglet’s cheese and sausage. I am afraid that at least two of the pies intended for this party had been used to counteract a couple of episodes of Handrailers Lassitude. As I pointed out, it is important that the navigator retains full access to all of his intellectual faculties and one good way of ensuring this is a constant supply of finely slaughtered pigs in pastry.
Handrailing was used as a navigational strategy all day. For those puzzled by the expression, it means following something. In this case, there seems to be a fence pretty much all the way from Peebles to Moffat.
There was a short but well focussed boozing and chatting session before it got too cold and the beer and wine supplies dried up.
Another moonlit night followed before a mid night arrival of some cloud and drizzle.
We’d done about 14 miles with 3100 feet of uphill – so, a good, beefy kind of hillwalking day. And it was becoming apparent that this little group was quite good at supporting and encouraging it’s members in their various periods of despondency and that spirits were high – a very good sign indeed.

day two part one showing variations

day two part two. Loops at the top by Martin Banfield, Southern Loop is the Jocys variation. Squiggly line is what the rest of us did (Piglet did a lot more…)