HK-Peckforton

I have three 'compass point' runs from home, all of which I've done in 2020, all of which are around 20m and scenically interesting with a challenging mix of terrain. North heads to Hilbre, South heads to Llangollen, West heads to Denbigh. I've done 'south' and 'west' twice, 'north' once, but I'd never tried 'east' before today as I'm slightly prejudiced about it as a direction of travel! The first few miles are relaxed and on tarmac, from HK to Balderton and then up the long drag to Eccleston. From here I took the ultra muddy Dee path to Aldford, and then headed direct to Lea Farm, new territory for me. It was always likely I would be caught out by flooding (as opposed to mere mud) at some point, and so I was - on a section of Bishop Bennett's Way which disappeared under a metre of water after a mile of boggy fields. I cut across the fields looking for a way to cross the swollen Aldford Brook. Eventually I found a bridge, and fields led to Milton Green before fast tarmac to Tattenhall. Then came the very familiar TTT opening up the long drag to Burwardsley and the Pheasant, where I met K and E for a walk along the Sandstone Trail and a cold picnic. This 'easterly' route needs some refining before I can add it to the roster. It's a bit too short at a tad over 16 miles, and very awkward in these wet conditions. Beeston might make a more distinctive objective. 

Nos Galan virtual 5k

Race: Nos Galan virtual 5k (HK-Bretton)

Time: 18.15

After enjoying Nos Galan so much last year, I entered the virtual event, only to find it was non competitive. So, with no need to race I just ran from home to Bretton, recording a perfunctory time to submit, then continued running to the Roodee for a family walk.

North Llyn traverse

More by luck than judgement, this lengthy outing took place just before the latest Welsh lockdown. A long run along the North Llyn coast had been forming as a vague plan for some time, as I have tried to spend a little more time exploring the Llyn this year. In the event, it exceeded my expectations and Jez joined me (two cars being essential) for the 6am start from HK, driving the entire width of north Wales to park beyond Uwchmynydd at the stunning tip of the Llyn overlooking Bardsey. For me, this location matches anything in the British Isles, and a 45mph tailwind then blew us up Mynydd Mawr, an easy start. Joining the coast path, the next section is scenically stunning, descending towards Porth Llanllawen and rounding Mynydd Anelog - another of the mini-mountains that characterises this end of Llyn. I was slipping and sliding immediately, my trail shoes an unwise choice given the volume of rain we have had. It was immensely muddy in places, and a very heavy shower blew in for the next section along the fabulous coastline (much lower cliffs here) to Porth Oer, the famous whistling sands, which I haven't visited since childhood. The running was easier here, and after another soaking heavy shower, it started to dry off for the easy terrain to Traeth Penllech (seals, choughs), and even a little sunshine peeked through the clouds. Beyond this, however, it became immensely muddy, and multiple isolated coves make life tricky with multiple switchbacks and some tricky river crossings where the high tide merged with outflows in spate (Porth Ysglaig, for example). The gentler pastoral feel then gives way to the weird interlude of Morfa Nefyn and its golf course - joltingly suburban and strange. We saw plenty of people here, of course, the only humans we saw all day apart from a few surfers. The section round Porth Dinllaen was hard to follow, but it did mean we took in the famous Ty Coch. High tide meant we had to climb an exposed dune system back to the golf course - all a bit draining. It was then an essential part of the plan to get food in Nefyn, so we detoured inland for a bit of road running then a tasteless pasty. After more road, normal service was resumed at Pistyll, where the route again becomes wilder and wilder, skirting Penrhyn Glas before fantastic running on high ground which then descends towards the peerless Nant Gwrtheyrn - undoubtedly one of Wales' finest sights, and that is even more marked when descending from the south towards the sea through a unique sessile oak woodland. From the wild beach, we climbed through the deserted language centre then all the way up the tarmac to Bwlch yr Eifl (the route I took for one of my first post-lockdown outings in summer). A final freezing shower of hail as we crested the pass, the day's highpoint, before descending rough ground to Trefor and an unexpected final loop around the coast with a stunning sunset beyond Carreg y Llam, the cliffs of Yr Eifl plunging down to the sea. Then, finally, back on the road through Gyrn Goch to Clynnog Fawr. Around 55k, with over 6000ft of climbing, 6.5 hours, with the mud slowing progress. A memorable end to 2020, all the more so as the latest lockdown was announced during the outing.

North Wales virtual half marathon champs

Race: Deeside-Chester half marathon (NW virtual champs)

Time/Position: 1.20.09/1.21.06 (9th from 51 [1st V50])

My original solution to the problem of running a solo half marathon was to do it somewhere scenic and inspiring. So I headed to Llanwddyn on Saturday to do the Vyrnwy race route (which at one time was a pb course for me). After five miles, I found the road completely blocked and utterly impassable (there were signs all the way but I assumed I would be able to pass). I returned to the dam, at 3.43 per km pace, which is pretty quick for me at present, but lost motivation given the change of plans (and a headwind). So I had to revert to plan B, and asked M to accompany me on the bike this morning. My plan was to run from the Blue Bridge in Queensferry west to the railway bridge and then along the Chester Millennium Greenway for 6 miles or so. It worked well, as it is a sheltered route and virtually flat - M did a good job and handed me a couple of gels. I turned just before the university and the return went well until a headwind made life hard for the final mile back to the Blue Bridge. In retrospect, I was perhaps a little too conservative and comfortable, and slower than my pace at Vyrnwy. My Garmin under-measures distance, annoyingly, but Strava re-measured it as a minute faster - around 2.5 minutes slower than my pb, which isn't too bad. 

Tal y Fan

Peaks: Tal y Fan

Area: Carneddau, Eryri

With a plan to run the virtual half marathon champs tomorrow, and the Lakes trip in my legs, a short outing made sense today. So I drove all the way to Bwlch y Ddaefaen in diabolical conditions - 45mph winds and torrential rain, with the road running with water and all streams in spate. I didn't hang around, ploughing down the road then taking the direct route to the summit from the style. I had a bit of a tailwind, but this was negated by the saturated nature of the ground, with much running water. I got to the trig in 13 minutes, not too bad in the circumstances. Strong gusts saw me scurrying back down to the car.

Helvellyn north circuit

Peaks: Helvellyn, White Side, Raise, Sheffield Pike

Area: Helvellyn, Lake District

We had vague plans to revisit the Grisedale horseshoe fell race route as we set off from our parking on the shores of Ullswater. A pleasant night in Ambleside (back at the YHA I stayed in last month), meeting up with Vic for the first time since March. We took the obvious bridleway north of the Ullswater valley up to the mines, then joined the main path up towards Red Tarn. This is a bit of a slog, and the cloudbase was right down. The wind was light down here, however, and we made rapid progress up to Swirral Edge (taken by the race route). This gives a short and mild scramble, enjoyable even in the damp and cold mist, straight up to the summit of Helvellyn. Given the wind direction, we decided to reverse our plans and instead head north - a route I hadn't taken since 1988 with the university hiking club! After a small nav error - heading towards Grasmere - we adjusted and came out on top of Lower Man, then made rapid progress on the comfortable terrain which leads over White Side to Raise and, eventually, Sticks Pass. This is a major watershed and gives a superb descent east towards Ullswater. At the boggy col, we went our separate ways. Vic back to the car, me on the squelchy ridge (pure bog) leading to the top of Sheffield Pike. This was a new summit for me, and a nice one - with good views down to Ullswater. It was out of the mist, so I finally got a view. The descent is complex and very boggy, leading through Glencoyne wood on a tiny, obscure path (especially by Lakes standards) which popped out right next to Vic and the car! A pleasant microbreak, much like the last one in November.

Howgills

Peaks: Winder, Arant Haw, Calders, The Calf

Area: Howgills, Cumbria

Back in the Howgills for the first time since the OMM of 2012. That is a fairly frustrating memory, as I dropped out of the elite course with Mick after day 1 (to this day I'm not entirely sure why, but it was certainly my fault). No hard work today, just a quick outing in fairly grim weather from the centre of Sedbergh involving a steep but short climb straight up the front of Winder to gain the little ridge that leads to the summit. On the OMM (and the Rab of 2009, which also took place in the Howgills and was a superb event on which I came 7th overall in wonderful weather) you obviously have to prioritise navigation and route choice. No such issues today, so I headed direct along the ridge to Arant Haw (which lies some distance from the main bridleway and so is much quieter). It was misty, wet and windy for the continuation over the sub-peak of Calders and out to the highpoint of the range at the Calf. I'd been up all these peaks before on the mountain marathons, but really enjoyed revisiting them. Squally blasts of wind and sleet at certain points. The mist began to clear only as I descended the big path east of Winder which takes in a little valley and heads direct back to the centre of Sedbergh. An ideal little outing to break the journey to Ambleside, where I now headed.

Northern Carneddau

Peaks: Drosgl, Moel Wnion

Area: Carneddau, Eryri

Drosgl doesn't see many visits, even from me. It's a shapeless plateau on the edge of the Carneddau and a long haul from Aber. I went fairly well from the A55 up to the Falls, but then slowed for the route up the wet valley below Wnion. This has a tiny path for a section but then becomes very wet and hard going, almost a gorge. I hopped across the river for the extremely steep climb out the other side which eventually gains gentler slopes. From here, it is not too bad across to Bera Mawr, but I went straight for Drosgl. Conditions on the high peaks were very wintry, a lot of snow with more falling. Given my garb, I had to launch plan B, which was to join the main Aryg path down to towards Gyrn and a climb up the front of Moel Wnion. The descent down to Aber is always fast and hugely enjoyable with the Menai Strait in front, and today was no exception.

Vale of Clwyd half marathon

Race: Vale of Clwyd half marathon

Time/Position: 1.22.10 (1st from 32)

A rare overall race win for me: they come around every 6 or 7 years! Admittedly, it was a small field this year for obvious reasons - but I think I prefer the word 'exclusive'. Not the best time, nearly five minutes down on my PB and exactly identical to my Four Villages time in January. But, like that race, this is not the quickest course - with around 300m of climbing in its journey round all the pretty lanes linking the villages of Gellifor, Llanynys and Llandyrnog. It was cold and frosty, with tendrils of mist in the bottom of the vale when we set off from Llandyrnog. A young lad broke clear, along with Richard Eccles. After the youngster dropped away, the race evolved into a great battle between the two veterans. We were more or less neck and neck the whole way. I pulled ahead on the drag up to Groes Efa, but then fell behind on the flatter sections that form a scenic balcony above the vale. Most of the time, however, we ran at exactly the same pace - and it felt great to be in a proper race after the dozens of cancellations and virtual events which have wrecked this running year. Towards the end, there's a long drag up Foel Goch - at least a mile up a very narrow road, climbing the whole way - and I made a move on this, before emptying the tank on the flat run in past the Kinmel Arms and back to the village. One of my very rare overall wins came at the Vale of Clwyd 10k back in 2013, but I'd never done the half marathon before: a lovely route. 

NotRace 3: Orme

'Race': Orme (14k/750m)

Time/Position: 1.41 (2nd)

Fortunate timing, the next 'not race' started from the West Shore and took a complex 'mountain marathon' style route around the Orme, taking us to some very obscure places (some of which I had never been to before). I set off with Jez, up the zigzags to the highpoint above the West Shore. From here, a superb high level traverse leads to the tip of the Orme above the road apex. A checkpoint here, then down to the remote feeling artillery huts at sea level: stunning location, looking out over Mynydd y Dref and Mon. Back up the track to the next CP at a derelict hut, just below the exposed contouring path to the Lighthouse Crags - a place I know fairly well, as it is one of the few crags on the Orme where I have ticked a good number of routes! I didn't have the app installed on my phone, so all 13 checkpoints had to be done via the map and instinct. This was an issue for the next one. a prominent boulder above the Lighthouse, although I did get it right. From here, a heathery trudge led to superb running along the plateau to drop down to the cemetery and then right down to the road before climbing all the way back up again just before the first Pen Trwyn crags (where, again, I have done a few modest routes). A checkpoint on the tumulus, then all the way down to Parisellla's cave and back up again via the ski slope. This was tricky as there are various access issues, and I lost time here. Finally, it was up to the summit and trig point before a flat-out descent back to the West Shore.

Road relays 4k

Race: North Wales virtual road relays 4k

Time/Position: 14.30 (3rd V50)

Another virtual North Wales championship race, this time a relay event over the novel distance of 4k. Even I have never raced 4k before, although I did once manage a sub-10 minute 3k. With a weekend in Conwy, I decided to run the Morfa loop (past the football club and through the marina) from the high school: this was not ideal, as I forgot that it has two cattle grids and is only 2.8k! So there was too much slowing down, reversing and turning over the last 1k as I tried to make up the distance. I was hoping to duck under 14 minutes so this was rather disappointing. A family walk to Aber Falls for a picnic was a nice way to stretch the legs.

NotRace 2: Denbigh BeerWolf

'Race': Denbigh BeerWolf (13k+/350m)

Time/Position: 1.41

One of a new series of 'not races', loosely organised with vague start times. An exclusive field of three runners set off from the remote starting point of Llyn Aled, which brings back childhood memories for me - the empty heart of the Denbigh Moors. Despite the modest stats, it was obvious what we were in for today. It reminded me of a typical OMM (the Elan Valley in 2009 came to mind) with two options: tussocks or bog? It was bog for the first stage round the Aled to the first checkpoint, but then a brief bit of road to pick up the aquatic path which leads to the end of the Alwen, another lonely spot with abandoned sheepfolds and ancient farmhouses. From here, we gained the Alwen path taken by the Freckled Cow race (on which I once came second), which gained height comfortably - although I lost Jez and Tony here and didn't see them again till the finish. I broke off at the fence line which leads up Mwdwl Eithin. I've been looking at this hill for many years, but amazingly have no memory of ever going up it. There are no paths, just this vague trod through thick heather - but the top has a huge cairn and wonderful views towards Siabod. From here, things got a lot worse. I saw the other two flailing down the fence line to the next CP, clearly struggling with the terrain, so thought I would cunningly head direct to the Moors road. The plan backfired, as the initial spur lead to steep slopes and horribly thick heather. Below, a quagmire with neck-deep fronds. A nightmare, which I had to battle through to gain the upper slopes which did indeed lead to the road. From here, an even boggier section leads to the minor summit of Pen yr Orsedd, after which I track could be picked up further north for some blessed relief down to lonely Llyn Alwen, with a CP at the derelict cottage. The relief was short-lived, as the 'run-in' back to Aled, although short, was just as tough underfoot as everything else - bogs and tussocks - with no view of Aled until I popped out just above it, still in a bog. A quintessential 2020 experience.

Fairfield Horseshoe/Red Screes

Peaks: Red Screes, Hart Crag, Dove Crag, Fairfield, Great Rigg, Heron Pike, Nab Scar

Area: Fairfield, Lake District

My two previous trips around the Fairfield horseshoe have certainly been well spaced out. I first did it as a first year student in 1988, then during a minibreak with Kate in 2001. So my next visit will likely be around 2039! It was a beautiful morning, and after a full cooked breakfast I jogged up Kirkstone with mist slowly dissipating from Windermere and Ambleside - archetypal autumnal conditions, definitely my favourite time of year to visit the Lakes (never been my favourite area, but I do like it, have been visiting for 32 years, and always try for at least two trips a year). A contouring path leads off from the Kirkstone road to gain the broad south ridge of Red Screes. This does drag a bit, a fairly long haul from the YHA, but the views over Fairfield and Kentmere compensated. I felt a little tired, and could only maintain a slow jog - possibly the after effects of my Famau marathon. From Red Screes (which I don't think I've ever done before) prospects looked good. A little summit lake frames views of Ambleside, the slopes to Kirkstone are famously steep, and I particularly enjoyed the views to Patterdale - which reminded me of the Grisedale Horseshoe fell race I did in 2014. I ran down to the Scandale Pass, then enjoyed the climb up to gain the normal motorway path round the Fairfield Horseshoe just below Hart Crag. Superb views over Great Rigg, with the weather getting better and better. By Fairfield, a few small snow patches (more over Langdale and Helvellyn) and great views of St Sunday Crag (another fond memory from the Grisedale Horseshoe - on which it is the final peak, but not the final climb). I remembered the glorious return over Great Rigg and Heron Pike - a wonderfully runnable broad ridge with views to Grasmere and Rydal water. Good running through Rydal back to Ambleside.

Wansfell loop

Exploiting our border location, and a reading week, I took in a micro-break to the Lakes before the English lockdown begins. I had originally planned to stay at the Grasmere YHA we enjoyed so much a couple of years ago, but had to bring the trip forward by a day because of the lockdown: Ambleside became the rather more urban focus instead. The YHA on the banks of Windermere does have its advantages, though, set apart from the busy town and with easy parking. I just drove straight up, parked, and set off immediately for Wansfell direct from the lakeside. Through the little streets of upper Ambleside following the waterfalls, up the steep road to finally gain the flagstone path (taken by the well-known race route). This was good and direct and led to the initial summit - dank and gloomy but with nice autumnal views down to Windermere. I then took the boggy undulating ridge to Baystones - the true summit - quite close to Kirkstone Pass, with views over Kentmere and Fairfield. I then fashioned a satisfying loop, down Nan's Road to Troutbeck before a superb contouring path above Windermere (in brightening weather) back to Ambleside and the YHA, where I had a dorm room with six beds to myself due to Covid regs.

HK-Moel Famau-HK marathon

Another attempt to make the most of a bad situation after yet another race cancellation. I have run up Moel Famau twice from my front door, but have previously always been picked up in Mold. This time I went to the summit and back. I suspected it would be close to marathon distance - in the event it was almost exactly that, despite completing a satisfying loop rather than retrace my steps on the 'descent'. I went through Penyffordd, a sharp climb in itself, then the back roads to Padeswood golf course, through Llong to Mold. To avoid the bypass I went past the Alyn to the industrial estate in dire weather - torrential rain and howling wind, so bad that I considered shortening the day. It passed through, however, and the rest of the day was blustery and cold, with the occasional sunny interval. A cross-headwind made life difficult for the entire outward leg - and I struggled on the hill to Cadole. Here, I stopped for a planned feed point at the garage - double espresso and cereal bar for the steep climb up Moel Famau. It is half marathon distance exactly to the summit from my front door, and it was cold and empty on top. I pelted down the Collie classic route, then up through the woods slowly to Pantymwyn - wet and cloying underfoot. On reaching the tarmac I felt reasonably good, and the return went well through Gwernaffield and Mold (second feed stop at the garage). Up the steep climb to Buckley, then back down to HK. The distance was 42.35km, a tiny tad over marathon distance, with 983m of climbing. Given that 3225ft climb, the time of 3.53 doesn't seem too bad.

North Wales 5k championships

Race: North Wales 5k champs (Buckley)

Time/Position: 17.27 (19th from 127 [1st V50])

Yet another virtual race, but for once I didn't do this one solo, but with a group of Buckley Runners on a one mile circuit round the common. It's been some time (several years) since I trained with the club, so it was particularly nice to do this around the three lap course. The pace was spicy from the off, but it went quite well and I was fairly pleased with my time: half a minute outside my PB set many years ago. The problem with measuring virtual races accurately was obvious, as we all finished in different places and my watch was still slightly short despite the extra distance!

WFRA virtual fell race

Race: WFRA virtual fell race, Moel Famau from Collie (7m/500m)

Time/Position: 1.00.30 (4th from 45 [1st V50])

A virtual fell race is obviously even harder to get parity on than the numerous virtual road races I've tried this year. The rules for this were, essentially, 7 miles with 500 metres of climbing, and less than a mile of tarmac. This is about the same - statistically - as our classic Friday route up Moel Famau from the Collie, which I've been doing for many years. I opted to do the 'reverse' version, which is much steeper (and less runnable) on the climb but perhaps a tad quicker with a long grassy descent. I felt quite good, and descended well to get inside the hour for the classic route from the pub (many years ago breaking the hour was seen as a major challenge and a few of us managed to get under it - I think my all time PB is just under 58m). I tried to get it to 7 miles on the tarmac but my watch recorded 6.91 miles. My time was the quickest overall but I was penalised two minutes for being 0.09 miles short and relegated to 4th!)

London Marathon Virtual

Race: Virtual London Marathon (Flintshire west to east)

Time/Position: 3.04.23 (721 from 45000 [59th V50])

My 9th London Marathon, and I embraced the challenge of keeping it entirely within Flintshire in this most dystopian of years. My initial plan was to run from Conwy to St Asaph, but the new lockdown put paid to that (as it happens, the wind direction was unfavourable anyway). So I decided to run the entire length of Flintshire, but keeping it all as flat as possible by sticking to the coast. I reccied it with M the day before in torrential rain, to make sure the dual carriageway could be avoided. It could, and the route worked a treat, starting on a side road outside Gronant and heading through Ffynnongroyw to Bagillt. The decaying Fun Ship made a fine stand-in for the Cutty Sark, and the first 10 miles passed smoothly despite a slight headwind, some sunny intervals made life warm in the coast (carrying phone and gels, a real disadvantage). I stashed water outside Flint, which helped, then met Chris (and Peter briefly) outside CQ, with Flintshire Bridge standing in for Tower Bridge at the half-way mark. Busy streets through CQ and Shotton were a good distraction, and we veered off to the Blue Bridge at Queensferry. Chris did a superb job of pacing, his offer of help was unexpected but very welcome, and he even held my water bottle (another stashed in CQ). The Dee path proved the crux, tough going, but I kept a decent pace just about ticking over. Through Saltney Ferry then back to Bretton, into Cheshire very briefly at Lower Kinnerton, then the tiring haul back to HK before a welcome (and planned) downhill finish through Moor Lane back to the border. A great, satisfying route. I'd been targeting the 3.15 V50 qualifying time, so to get 11 minutes inside this was a real bonus (only 10 minutes down on my 2.54 PB). A novel and interesting 22nd marathon experience.

HK-Llangollen

The third of this year's 'linear compass point' runs. After HK-Hilbre in February (north) and HK-Denbigh more recently (west), this was the southerly(ish) version to Llangollen. All three are in the region of 20 miles/30km (I don't do 'east'). As with the Denbigh run, I've done this before (seven years ago in the deep snow of April 2013, when the Esclusham road was completely buried), but refined it a little. From home, I took the lanes to Hope then the brutal Bryn Yorkin climb to Cymau and down to Ffrith. A steep bridleway leads to Cefn Road and then, after a fair amount of climbing, up to Bwlchgwyn - the highest village in Wales (a debateable title). I then deployed the paths I'd used in my 38k Eglwyseg horseshoe earlier this year. These lead due south towards Minera, after which I unwisely plotted a route through the quarries and crags to eventually climb up to the old high road to World's End. All this took time, with less than obvious route-finding. The weather was superb, though, a perfect early autumn day with a cool breeze and stunning clarity. This all meant that the final leg along the OD path below Craig Arthur and Pinfold was as good as it gets (and I have always felt this is the finest landscape in NE Wales). I got to Llangollen in just over 2.5 hours after a fast descent down the lanes below Dinas Bran, where I met K and M for a walk and picnic pies by the Dee.

HK-Denbigh

With the virtual London marathon approaching, the organisers withdrew my qualifying time for 2021 because it was set in 2018. So: it seems necessary to give the virtual event next month a proper go to get my QT back, the problem being that I haven't done any recent long runs on tarmac. After trying to maintain marathon pace on a 15 miler last week, I took the opportunity to reprise my HK-Denbigh run of 2016, refined somewhat to avoid the worst of the road sections. It went fairly well, through Buckley and Mold to Hendre, where I took a series of bridleways up to Moel Arthur to avoid the dangerous main road I took last time. From the bwlch, it is all downhill to Llandyrnog before a rather tedious 3 or 4k along the road to K's house in Denbigh: just under 20 miles, just over 2.5 hours, with around 2000ft of climbing.

Cwm Glas horseshoe

Peaks: Crib Goch, Garnedd Ugain, Yr Wyddfa

Area: Snowdon

Snowdonia has been unprecedentedly busy since the end of lockdown, so all trips this year have been about crowd avoidance: multiple methods deployed to that end. Today, I parked below Carreg Wastad and ran to the top of Pen y Pass. Although I was early, there was of course no avoiding the hordes, but I ran up to Bwlch y Moch in around 15 minutes, then straight up Crib Goch. I've no idea how often I've done this over the years, but it's a lot. I reached the top in around 37 minutes from PyP and then carried on, moving reasonably quickly, across the ridge itself: as enjoyable as ever, but passing lots of early starters the whole way. From Garnedd Ugain, I ran up to the summit of Snowdon, astonished at the sheer volume of people, then escaped the crowds completely by contouring down to the Cyrn Las ridge. This gives a fine downward scramble, narrow in places, and is almost always empty. It completes what I call the 'Cwm Glas horseshoe': a kind of alternative Snowdon horseshoe for connoisseurs or the anti-social. Two hours exactly for the round back to Carreg Wastad today. The route works even better if you use the north ridge of Crib Goch first and avoid the road, which is how I did it last year.

Gladstone 9 fell race

Race: Gladstone 9

Peaks: Tal y Fan, Foel Lus

Time/Position: 1.33.37 (14th from 57 [3rd V50])

The first non-virtual race since Ras yr Aran in March, a long, long layoff coinciding with my 50th birthday and wiping out dozens of age category plans. I hadn't done the Gladstone 9 since 2008, a ridiculous gap in itself, and today's race was organised in a Covid-secure time trial format, each runner starting at minute intervals. It worked well, although there wasn't much sense of being in a race, as I passed 5 or 6 runners in front of me before Capelulo, but the ones in front of them were much quicker. I'd forgotten the first section of the race, which heads from the edge of Penmaenmawr up the front of Foel Lus then takes the delightful contouring, twisting path to join the Pen race route down to Capelulo. Then comes the climb up the Donkey Track from Fairie Glen: I was disappointingly slow on this, and indeed on all the climbs. At the top, I went straight ahead towards Tal y Fan, and later cut back left towards the main track. I'm not convinced this gains much time due to the heathery terrain, but it feels a little shorter in terms of distance. After the stream above Llangelynin, it climbs through the little valley to the next CP at the start of the long climb along the Tal y Fan wall. I always find this tough: due to its very steep rocky rises interspersed with gentler sections. From the summit, the route takes a direct line down to the stone circle - the path is very vague with numerous boggy sections. I felt slow and disappointingly sluggish throughout, although as the main North Wales coast path is reached and the route heads east over Foel Lus I perked up a bit. It is a quick run-in back to the start above Penmaenmawr.

Peloritani run

Peaks: Pizzo Chiapparo, Castello d'Orlando, Monte Mustia

Area: Peloritani, Sicily

Novara di Sicilia is enveloped by hills. The most impressive by far is yesterday's peak, Rocca Salvatesta, but for my last morning in Sicily, I ran up towards the ridge line that rises to the east. I'd reccied a small path beyond the dry river bed that marks the edge of the village. This started quite well, climbing quickly along an ancient trail, but soon became overgrown. Higher up, it fizzled out completely and led to barbed wire fences, goat trails, shepherds huts and general unpleasantness. The final climb to the summit was up steep, bouldery limestone and maquis, followed by a high fence. The top was just a long ridge with higher ground to the east. Tricky nav with no map, so I picked my way down to a little gorge to finally gain kinder terrain in the form of a meadow which led to a minor road. I took this up towards the notable wooded peak of Castello d'Orlando. It curved round to a pass, and I continued up a track which was blocked by the farmer just below the top of the hill. A glorious descent to Novara ensued, down minor roads and tracks, curving round via Monte Mustia with the Ionian islands in front. On the way back to Catania, I stopped at the Portella Mandrazzi and took in the 1200m (unamed?) peak to the west: more thorns and impenetrable vegetation.

Rocca Salvatesta

Peaks: Rocca Leone (1220m), Rocca di Novara (1340m)

Area: Peloritani, Sicily

By far the most eye-catching peak of the Peloritani Mountains in north-east Sicily, Rocca Novara is perhaps the most notable mountain in Sicily outside Etna. It is a spire of limestone which dominates the lovely village of Novara di Sicilia, where I stayed for my last night in Sicily. It is, inevitably, known as the Sicilian Matterhorn, and also (more commonly) Rocca Salvatesta. After breakfast in the Citelli Hut, I drove around to Piana Provenzana for my last few minutes on Etna, wandering happily around and taken pictures of the regenerated vegetation and spectacular early morning views over Calabria. A long drive ensued along twisting roads through typical Sicilian scenery - nice limestone peaks, prickly pears and yellow meadows. After cresting the high Portella Mandrazzi, Rocca Novara came into view, and I parked at the road junction a little lower down. From here, it looked a simple matter to get onto the peak, but after an easy track it became obvious that it was complex and not the standard route (which, I soon found, approaches from the opposite side!). Here, a series of loose limestone spurs made for very awkward progress but eventually gained a flat meadow. There was no obvious route up, so I contoured round and then move across to the northern side of the mountain overlooking the village (and, distantly, the Ionian Islands). This wasn't much better, with small herds of boar and goats and a loose, untravelled feel. I picked my way up a central couloir, which had evidence of traffic, but became unfeasible quite quickly, around grade III technically. I wasn't far from the summit, but it didn't seem wise to continue up steep rock solo (particularly after a goat knocked a rock down) so I retreated and ploughed through ferns to take in the side peak of Rocca Leone and consider my options. This was worthwhile, and the summit gave wonderful views over Etna and Rocca Novara, perhaps its best side. I could see an obvious path rising up the hillside below, and an infuriating descent through ferns led to it. By now, it was midday and absolutely roasting - perhaps the hottest I had been on Sicily, pushing 35 or 36C, with limited water given the brevity of the outing. I jogged up the path and finally spotted the normal route up the far side of the peak. This gave a steep but fun ascent, with some scrambling up short walls and chimneys. The summit is surprisingly capacious, a green lawn suspended above the limestone walls. Wonderful views of smoking Etna, the Ionian islands, and the rest of the Peloritani. I scampered down to complete the full traverse of the mountain. This was fine until a totally unexpected sting in the tail which saw me traversing a very steep storm channel along tiny goat tracks through powdery shale. I retired to Novara for a late lunch of Messina beer and a panini made with local prosciutto and the village's very own Maoirchino cheese.

Etna North

Peaks: Pizzi Deneri (2845m), Cratere di NE (3327m), Monte Frumento delle Concazze (2151m), Monte Sartorious (1768m)

Area: Etna, Sicily

This was the big day on Etna that the Sicilian extension was centred around. As such a dominant feature, it seemed to warrant a comprehensive approach, and after visiting the south side last week and running around the eastern craters yesterday, I really wanted to get to the summit craters from Rifugio Citelli. After a nice breakfast, I set off in more glorious weather, not too hot at this altitude, through lovely birch woods and intermittent ancient lava flows. I reached a path junction early, but after being bitten on Monte Rinatu yesterday didn't risk what I felt might be a tenuous direct ascent. Instead, the path twists and loses altitude infuriatingly as it contours Serra di Concazze quite low down. After 30 minutes of more, I grew too frustrated as I was moving in the opposite direction to Pizzi Deneri which towers 1300 metres above - I needed to start climbing! So I chose a side valley and ploughed upwards up untravelled terrain. Predictably, this became vegetated quite quickly and things looked bad - but by crossing into a parallel valley I reached excellent smooth lava which facilitated rapid progress upwards. This was full on nav across untravelled terrain but it was obvious that I would hit the ridge eventually. I did, and continued left to gain the main ridge and a stunning view over the immense Valle di Bove, stunning in the morning light. Above, black slopes lead up to the South East Crater, very active again with plumes of smoke and intermittent deep explosions. The ridge to Deneri was steep and arduous, powdery ash in places, and led over several forepeaks. However, I was expecting a tough climb given its altitude and vertical interval from the hut. I tried contouring the forepeaks but it was far too loose - the crest was much easier going, and the views and landscape got better throughout. Finally, I felt I was really up on Etna with its black and orange slopes and unique ambience. The top of Deneri looks straight across at the pyramidal North East crater, and I headed down from the summit to the next stage of the day, which I remained unsure about. A completely featureless plateau of black ash made a striking foreground to the deep blue morning sky. I then picked up a track which helpfully contours the summit craters around the whole of the north side of Etna, curling over to the west. Views opened out to the Madonie hills of last week, and the Peloritani (including Rocca Novara, which I hoped to do tomorrow, a pyramid of limestone thousands of feet lower). Baked valleys stretched endlessly to the south, and the toe of Calabria remained a constant presence behind. The track contoured for a long time, before I detected paths heading upwards through the lava. Above, a ridge and a pyramid which I presumed represented the 'top' of the North East crater. The higher I got, the more remarkable and alien the landscape. Fumaroles and vents along the ridge had vertical spouts of steam and two deep explosions came from the bowels of the Earth, along with minor ground shake. After a final steep climb on jagged lava I reached the ridge crest to find myself peering straight in to the North East crater: an absolutely stunning and memorable moment. It is vast in every way, plunging walls down hundreds of feet and describes a perfect circle. Although it isn't active, there are clouds of steam, and everything about it says: 'you don't belong here'. It felt very odd - I have 32 years of experience assessing mountain conditions, but there was nothing normal about this. As I'm not a vulcanologist I had no idea about the actual (as opposed to perceived) risks but I'd seen three other people moving around distantly which reassured me and encouraged me to continue. I looked across the crater to the Bocca Nuove and the active South East crater, but my instinct was telling me to descend immediately! The whole summit crater area was remarkable, and steam vents combined with the occasional noises to emphasise the alien nature of the landscape. I should have spent longer up here (in retrospect) but actually scampered quickly back down to the contouring track. From here, I went back to the black lava field and headed down the 'Leone' path towards Provenzana to complete a satisfying loop. Mist had rolled in, so the effects were spectacular as I plunged down the ash. The landscape changes as you descend, particularly when moving quickly, and low vegetation now dotted the ground. I crossed to a series of side valleys as I decided to take in the obvious sub-peak of Monte Concazze delle Frumento, an obvious pyramid when seen from the hut. Yellow flowers and even some sheep were the first signs of life, and I plunged down the summit ridge to finally reach the first trees - low birch woods - which led to Monte Sartorious, a well-known and much visited series of craters which are actually lower than Rifugio Citelli. I traversed all the craters, then headed up to the hut where I was just in time for the gelato man who arrived with his van in the car park and served me my ice cream Sicilian style, stuffed into a brioche, while the quirky music played from the speakers. Nearly 1900m of ascent, 23.1km.

Monte Rinatu

Peaks: Monte Rinatu (1569m)

Area: Etna, Sicily

After dropping the family off at Catania airport, my satnav directed me back through the centre of the city to avoid jams on the motorway. Nerves frayed, it was a relief to eventually get to the turn and begin heading back to Etna. This time, solo, I wanted to leave the tourists behind so headed for the much quieter northern slopes with two nights booked at the Rifugio Citelli. The main motivation was to get to the top without being charged with a criminal offence (!) but I also wanted to complete my exploration of the lower slopes and multiple subsidiary peaks and craters. I headed through Milo via a little shop visit and reached the Citelli at lunchtime. After a quick bite, I checked into the refuge (a cell with a bed, but also an incredible view straight down to our house in Riposto 1700 metres below, and across the tranquil Ionian Sea to Calabria). I knew a big summit day was in store tomorrow, with at least 1700 metres of climbing, so opted for something relatively gentle but meaningful this afternoon, exploring another piece of the larger Etna jigsaw. I drove to the Grotte del neve, the snow cave, and ran south along an abandoned road for at least 3k. This ends at a long abandoned monastery, and leads to paths through birch woods. Then a junction - and I had no real way of knowing which direction to take, a classic dilemma. In the end, I chose badly, heading north through thick woods to an old lava flow before deciding to reverse on a hunch. This worked, eventually, and led to a track up Monte Rinatu - which is one of several old crater cones along the north-eastern side of Etna. I must have missed the standard circular route because my direct path became very tenuous and overgrown, a bit of a nightmare for a while, and eventually led to open ash slopes and a summit overlooking the Valle del Bove - which, as I'd established on Wednesday - is a stunning sight. High above, I could again hear the explosions from the south-east crater. The path was so vague that I had a job even retracing it, but eventually headed back the same way and visited the cave before dining on pasta trapanese and veal at the hut. A beautiful still night looking down at the lights of Riposto and Taormina (and Reggio di Calabria) and up at a full moon.

Etna South

Peaks: Eruption Cone 2003, Crateri Barbagallo (2825m), Cratere Piano del Lago (2672m), Montagnola (2648m), Crateri Silvestri Inferior/Superior (2001m)

Area: Etna, Sicily

From our second base in Sicily, near the coast in Riposto, Etna looked magnificent. It totally dominates the landscape, smouldering away throughout our stay and remaining highly active. It is, in European terms, unique. Indeed, it is so compelling and essential that there was not a word of protest about our family trip - 16km from our flat, straight up a 1700 metre motoring climb to the main tourist base at Rifugio Sapienza on the south side. Explosions were immediately audible, as soon as we left the car, with the smoke billowing from the South East crater which you can't even see from the base. I originally planned to run to the top of the cable car and then join the family, but in the end I swallowed the outrageous cost, just glad to be in the mountains with the family - a rare thing in itself! From the cable car, it is a gradual uphill climb to the tourist highpoint at Torre Filosofo. Eve found it all a bit of a struggle, so I let them have a break half way up while I made a full frontal ascent of the 2003 eruption cone - this was a horrible struggle from this side, and utterly unnecessary as it brings you out opposite the Barbagallo crater where all the tourists go anyway (although, as it happens, it was a segment for which I recorded the 2nd quickest time). This far end of the crater was stained red and gave a stunning view of the SE crater high above, and a great run down powdery ash and lava, before we resumed our upward progress as a family. It steepens a little towards the end, and we had a short rest perched on lava while looking up at fumaroles erupting from vents and black smoke billowing out of the south-east crater. Some mist rolled in at the Torre Filosofo where there were hordes of tourists. I wanted to slip under the rope to run past the guided parties up to the crater, but Kate strongly advised against this - pointing out the criminal offence warnings, as well as the fact I would be back on my own in a few days. Instead, we walked up above the Crateri Barbagallo, where I realised my slog up the lava of the 2003 eruption cone was essentially pointless. The crater was pretty wonderful despite the tourists, with great views down to the baking plains 2700 metres below to the south. More explosions came from the top of Etna, as we completed the loop of the crater and descended powdery ash to make a little circuit - shoes full of ash and gravel. Further down, I extended the day a tad by running up Cratere Piano del Lago, which had superb views back over all the south side of Etna. In addition, the stunning Val del Bove came into view to the east - a huge valley with ancient pyroclastic flow, a deep black field of lava. All the little crater peaks were fascinating, and just extended the time in this unique landscape. The final one, Montagnola, had beautiful symmetry and I had it entirely to myself, remarkably given the hordes making their way up the normal track. We had a lunch of wild boar and caponata at the Rifugio Sapienza, and no coffee, after which I was in no state for a final 20 minute blast around the Silvestri craters, but did it anyway.

Pizzo Catarineci

Peaks: Pizzo Catarineci (1660m)

Area: Madonie, Sicily

This is a typical Madonie peak, characterised by a high limestone plateau and lying on the eastern fringe of the National Park, the most accessible mountain from our Gangi base. It was our last day in the interior, and an early start seemed prudent to properly penetrate the Madonie. Pizzo Catarineci was an excellent choice, a notable presence from the east, with the route up starting from the Portella Ferrone immediately above Petralia Soprana. It was a stunning morning, not too hot, perfectly quiet and still, with crystal clarity all around. I was expecting a major navigational challenge, suspecting that this peak would be very rarely ascended. This may have been the case, but most of it had excellent waymarking which looked recent - a big but welcome surprise. The first section took part of a long distance footpath - initially, along an ancient cobbled donkey track through beautiful woodland with the low sun streaming through the branches. Above, it moves more steeply to finally leave the treeline just below the start of the plateau. Views opened out down to Petralia and across the baked yellow plains to the south. Further east, Etna rose above a series of beautiful blue valleys still filled with morning mist. It was stunning, as was the plateau itself (these are called 'piano' in Italy, even in the Dolomites, and are usually limestone plains raised above the surrounding land). It was enchanting - small copses between sharp limestone outcrops. The navigation became trickier but eventually it was obvious that the true summit was the furthest away, a long and lumpy haul to the far end of the plateau, where I took a scrambling direct line up shallow chimneys to the summit. Stunning views to Etna, many miles distant but with a visible plume of steam. Closer, the higher peaks of the Madonie like Pizzo Carbonara and Pizzo Antenna. A memorable few minutes on top, absolute clarity and peace, and then it was back across the plateau. Where the ground steepened on the descent, I ran down (intent on catching breakfast back in Gagni) and made it to the car in 18 minutes: 1.25 in total. The cappuccino was still warm.

Monte San Calagero

Peaks: Monte San Calagero (987m)

Area: Madonie, Sicily

A slightly longer outing from our wonderful flat at the top of Gangi, where all runs begin with a long, long downhill stretch! I'd seen these low yellow hills from the road up to the Piazza, so took that all the way down its long sweeping turns out along the Nicosia road. Annoyingly, a high barbed wire fence made access to the open hill difficult, and the last thing I wanted was a Sicilian farmer pointing a gun at me whilst I explained the concept of fell running. In the end, I had no choice, jumped the fence and ploughed up the very steep side slope to gain the obvious broad ridge. This had a tiny semblance of a path, and indeed the hill itself had a tiny chapel and cross on top, so I wasn't the first person up here! It was tenuous, though, up barren slopes with a powerful scent of wild fennel, an integral ingredient in the regional cuisine. Wild flowers would carpet this in Spring, no doubt. At the top, great views back over Gangi and the foothills of the Madonie extending east towards Nicosia. I came down the same way along the ridge, then took an intricate route past the church (inadvertently taking a segment crown), then back up the narrow, twisting alleys all the way back to the house. These get narrower and narrower as you rise - wonderfully atmospheric, up empty cobbled streets, echoes of my footsteps all around. After breakfast, we headed to Palermo. 

Monte Spina Puci

Peaks: Monte Spina Puci (1736m)

Area: Madonie, Sicily

Just the tiniest of introductions to the Madonie mountains in the Sicilian interior - on a blisteringly hot afternoon, our first full day. We'd flown in to Catania the day before and made our way up to the wonderful hilltop town of Gangi. This morning, full of excitement, I did a pre-breakfast run through its maze of streets, down and down until I reached the newer flats and apartments at the bottom of the original medieval settlement. The whole place is barely believable, like a Provencal 'village perche' but far more genuine, less gentrified and less touristy (at least it was in dystopian 2020!). A long climb back up Monte Marone along the 'main road' to the Piazza on top of the hill. After breakfast, we took in the equally beautiful Petralia Soprana before heading up to Piano Battiglia, a high plain of barren limestone and pine forests. We had lunch here at an Alpine-style Refugio, and then I was given just a few minutes to get into the hills (literally). A wide path led to steep slopes of rough limestone and views over the barren highest hills of the Madonie - reminiscent of the Cretan White Mountains I enjoyed so much last year, albeit less extensive and a little less wild. I'd love to have done a longer outing up Pizzo Carbonara but it would have been entirely unacceptable.

Virtual Stone 5

Race: Virtual Stone 5 mile

Time/Position: 29.05

Yet another virtual race, hopefully one of the last. They have been useful as speed sessions, although it is very hard to push the pace on your own. To that end, I tried to trick my brain today by using a very familiar circuit - the borders league course from Capenhurst (although the real Stone 5 is, of course, a well-known race in Staffordshire). This worked to a small extent, but the second lap was still rather painful.

Tryfan East Face/Bristly Ridge

Unusually hot and humid for some time now, and this morning in Ogwen was no exception. You could see the moisture in the air - a barely perceptible sheen to the light with the sun already baking at 9am. I made something of a speed attempt on my tried and tested 'quickest way up' Tryfan, although my legs felt heavy, the after-effects of the Llangollen Round. I made decent progress up to the Terrace, but then slowed for the route across to Little Gully. I was slow on the scramble itself, which was surprisingly damp. Touched Adam and Eve 46.09 from the A5. Slow down the south ridge, then a tiring ascent of Bristly, definitely affected by Sunday's outing. Unusually hot and humid throughout - and it got even hotter as I descended to Bwlch Caseg Fraith. Good running down the cwm, pouring water over my head from the stream. Less than 1.50 for the round.

Cylch Llangollen Round

Peaks: Eglwyseg Mountain, Cyrn y Brain, Moel y Faen, Moel y Gamelin, Moel Morfydd, Moel Fferna, Vivod Mountain (52.3km/1907m)
Area: Llangollen
My second time solo round this superb circuit, which remains relatively new in its official waymarked format. I came close to breaking six hours this time, although I wasn't trying to record a quick time, just to do it in the enjoyable plodding fashion that made my first running of it so much fun (on a perfect autumn day in late September 2018). The aqueduct in Froncysyllte is by far the most logical starting point, so I jogged off in misty, humid conditions just before 9am. The path weaves around before ducking into Trefor Hall woods - it was rather stifling in here, humid and airless, so I was glad to get to the Panorama road and then the superbly runnable section across Ruabon Moor that follows. This was misty throughout, but I was glad of the protection from the full glare of the sun (it has been very hot recently). The views are all very familiar to me in any case. It is a superb route, though, which always seeks out the most elegant, logical line around the highest hills and stays high wherever possible - there is nothing arbitrary about it. I felt tired initially, perhaps after Friday's 10k - but started to perk up nicely in the cool breeze and kept it going over Cyrn y Brain to reach the Ponderosa in 1:53 from Fron. This is not too bad, although it was packed with bikers and only doing takeaway in these post-Covid times. It was only 11am but I had to queue behind hordes of bikers for my pastie and water. Essential to take on food and water here, though, key to a successful Round. The next section over the familiar hills of Gamelin and Morfydd is quite hard - partly because you're not yet half-way but the gradients are always somewhat draining. It stayed misty and cool, however, which reduced the dehydration issues. Then comes a long section along the base of the valley above the Corwen road, weaving up to take in an overgrown sunken lane crossing the line of hills until a descent to Carrog can be made. A pint of coke and some crisps outside the Grouse Inn (last time I had a ham sandwich inside the pub), and then comes the long haul from Carrog to the top of Moel Fferna. In many ways, this is the crux, but I really enjoyed it today. No heroics, but I kept a decent pace turning over throughout. There are no further water sources, so I delayed my next break until after the long high level run along tracks (nice and dry) that eventually lead to the climb up to the top of Vivod. This is the final climb of note - and I finished the food and water before crashing through the mile-long section of brambles and tangled heather below Y Foel. This is a tough section, which takes a fair bit off the time as it is hard to move quickly. It leads to the open empty roads that make the run-in somewhat tedious. Glyn Ceiriog is to the right, Llangollen to the left, and the views are nice throughout - with the sun finally breaking through the high cloud. Temperatures climbed quickly, but I felt OK and kept religiously to the route of the Cylch throughout (in 2018, I took the lane down and missed a short section at the end). I dropped down into Fron, then to the canal for what I hoped would be a sprint finish, as I was still feeling relatively fresh. By now, however, it was early afternoon in the madness of the post-lockdown summer and there were hundreds of people walking across the aqueduct. It was no easy task to get past them, and by that time sub-6 had ceased to be a possibility! In the end, my moving time was 6:09 precisely: 52.3km, 1907m of climbing.

Run Cheshire Virtual 10k

Race: Run Cheshire Virtual 10k (Blue Bridge-Saltney Ferry-Blue Bridge)

Time/Position: 36.52

My third virtual outing as a V50. It’s really not much fun, but I felt this might be useful to force myself to do a speed session in the hope that a few proper races start soon. I left very early from the blue bridge at Queensferry and ran along the pan-flat cycle path towards Saltney Ferry. This is always psychologically demanding – indeed, I used to use it in marathon training for that reason. I turned at the Ferry bridge (after 5.2k) and headed back. A very slight tailwind helped me maintain a consistent albeit unspectacular pace.

Arenig loop

Peaks: Arenig Fawr, Arenig South, Moel Llyfnant

Area: Arenig, Eryri

Quarantined for two weeks after Spain, yet another new experience in this year of new experiences (all bad). My interpretation was to avoid public spaces, which I did, although I did carry on running well away from anybody else. I parked near the quarry, then ran along the road towards Llidiardau, turning off on the usual track to the bothy and lake. Over the years, the path up Arenig from this side has become much clearer. When I first did it in the 1980s, I can remember it being quite tenuous. I moved fairly quickly today, running in places, and got to the top in 43 minutes from the road. It was misty on top, but this began to break up a bit as I moved across to the south summit, which is always worth appending to the main peak as it gives better views of the surrounding region. The low cloud broke up completely for my loop around the head of the Amnodd valley to the boggy ground below Moel Llyfnant. This gives a steep climb to its little rocky summit. I've not been up here for a while - in fact, I suspect I've only done Moel Llyfnant a handful of times - compared to dozens of ascents of Arenig. It's a fine summit, with great views of Cader, Rhobell and Rhinog. The descent to the cwm is steep and the base of the cwm tussocky and awkward - some explanation for a slowing of the pace, although the track back to the quarry is very fast and I just broke two hours for the round. Needless to say, I saw nobody at all.

Arantzazu hidden path loop

Our final morning, and it dawned clear and fresh from our rooms overlooking the gorge and sanctuary of Arantzazu. I wanted one final outing, and this route seemed to offer a chance to explore the bottom of the gorge that I'd been looking down on from the balcony. I ran it, from outside the hotel to the path along the streambed of the Urkullu Erreka. The path then curves round the shoulder of Arriona, a small peak, to head north-west below Aitzabal to eventually gain the gorge (Arantzazu Erreka). A very steep climb on zigzags up limestone shelves, almost 1000ft of climbing, gives a tough sting in the tail. Just over 44 minutes for the 7.5k route, much of that taken up by the final climb! Then it was down to Bilbao for pintxos, then the flight home.

Basque ridge wandering

Peaks: Aizkorri (1523m), Aitzabal (1508m), Irralabeltxeko (1533m), Aketegi (1548m), Aitxuri (1551m), Iraule (1511m), Arbelaitz (1506m), Kantoizulueta (1410m), Andreaitz (1419m)

Area: Gipuzkoa, Euskadi/Basque Country

Unlike the peaks around Riano, I have long been aware of these mountains in the heart of the Basque Country and wanted to visit them for cultural reasons alongside the usual scenic and sporting reasons. It seemed to make sense, and to complete a rewarding loop at the end of our week-long trip. From Leon, we'd driven to Euskadi and stayed in Maturana near Vitoria-Gasteiz. The main spine of the Basque mountains is to be found above the sanctuary of Arantzazu in Gipuzkoa, which has some case to be considered the heartland (although Kate and I stayed in Gernika in 2000, which is another). Certainly, Arantzazu had a powerful sense of place, with little visible Spanish and was a wonderful place to spend the night (in the Gipuzkoan interior, even an ill-informed visitor would realise they're not in Spain!). We left the hotels and restaurants that have grown up around the Catholic sanctuary, then headed up the very well worn path to the meadows of Urbia, where there is an uber Basque refuge complete with political slogans. The low valley of the Urzabalerreka opens out into green meadows, close cropped, below the sidepeak of Elorralaka Haitza. Above, the limestone ridge we were aiming for. The main peak is Aizkorri, where 90% of walkers head for (although it is not the highpoint). The path contours rightwards across the hillside, very worn and polished limestone. It was all quite a contrast to the untrodden mountains of Leon! The summit is surprisingly well-defined and has a tiny hut just below it (bearing the slogan 'free Basque prisoners' in English). Then, the ridge just unfolds in front (Aizkorri it the far end, although there are some lower peaks like Umandia further down still). To the north and east, green Basque valleys stretched out with little towns like Onati nestled among them. The full ridge crest from Aizkorri was always the plan, although Peter had dropped behind and unfortunately gone up the wrong peak first. We sorted ourselves out eventually, and kept religiously to the crest for the wonderfully enjoyable trip across a galaxy of minor peaks, all of which had attractive Basque names. In other environments, not all of these would have been named, but in a region of mountain enthusiasts, they had been. Highlights are hard to pick out, but Aitzabal was rocky and gave a scramble, while Aitxuri was notable as a distinctive peak (especially when seen from Aizkorri) and also the Basque highpoint. The most impressive and enjoyable of all the summits, however, was Arbelaitz, which looked hard from a distance, but wasn't. It was gained by shelves of limestone and a narrow ridge which dropped to a col before rising via runnels of limestone to a small summit. After Arbelaitz, the ridge loses its definition and becomes a jumble of sinkholes, meadows and beautiful archetypal limestone scenery. We did two further peaks in this complex and very distinctive terrain, finishing with a handshake on Andreitz, the final peak of the trip. It was then a simple matter to jog down springy turf to the refuge for lunch of beer and an enormous sandwich of hot chorizo with roasted red peppers. The journey down was enlivened by a griffon vulture convention - at least 40 gathered around a carcass with the little hill of Gorostiaran beyond. We ran flat out back to Arantzazu from Urbia (22 minutes), which was nice after all the slow progress. A storm blew in just as we got to the car - the first unstable weather of the trip! We couldn't locate a nearby campsite so ended up spending a memorable night at the Hotel Sindika overlooking the gorge and sanctuary, with a balcony each and a great little bar. It poured down in the early evening.

Liegos horseshoe

Peaks: Pena de las Canales (1646m), Pena de la Cruz (1829m), Pico de Recacabiello (1847m), Pico Mediodia (1865m)

Area: Liegos, Leon

Even a week later, this traverse still seems like a dream. We knew little about the area, and could find nothing online in Spanish, let alone English. Yesterday's mountain, Pico Gilbo, had some coverage and well-defined paths, as did the striking and curiously named peak of Yordas, but the latter was a little too remote from metalled roads to be feasible this morning, as we had a long drive in the afternoon. We opted instead to drive to Liegos and try our luck on these peaks, which we could vaguely identify as existing from google maps! Our hotel, in Boca de Herguano, was comfortable and on the route of the Camino Santiago, but a fair drive to Liegos, which was a beautifully located, sleepy hamlet. Limestone peaks rose above the village, and it was immediately obvious (and unsurprising) that there were no paths and no defined routes. We made our way upwards through the streets to gain the open hill at a cow meadow - the lower valley marked Arroyo de la Hoz on the map. We had to avoid woodland, so struck up the very steep spur directly above the village - this was mainly grass with some crags, and woods to the right. By keeping to the fringe, we made upward progress past some chamois higher up. Often, this kind of pathless exploration goes wrong, becoming impossible due to maquis or unexpected terrain issues. Today, however, it just unfolded like a book - lovely ridges that flowed towards distinctive peaks, and exquisite scenery throughout. I gained the ridge itself immediately above the treeline, which led to a little wall of limestone. Climbing this gained a narrow ridge of grass and limestone with stunning views. It was an unbelievably clear morning, with all peaks perfectly, even the high Picos further north. Closer at hand, lots of interesting and obscure limestone mountains with nobody in sight. It felt like we were the first people ever to come up here. An awkward descent into a gap before more good scrambling led to another forepeak and then a broader grassy col, from which we gained the first named summit - Pena de las Canales, along with a herd of chamois. Stunning valleys and peaks on all sides. The route then changed character. The main, most impressive peak was ahead - Pena de la Cruz. We worked out a line that seemed obvious, taking a diagonal weakness, then worked out a way to get across to it. This took a broad grassy ridge, like the Carneddau, across to the Collada de la Hoz. The way was blocked by a loose looking crag, so we traversed this along shelves on the left to gain another broad green col, the Collada de la Pena. From here, we deployed the plan. Diagonally upwards to gain a huge boulder, 40ft high, which we passed on the right. This gained the diagonal weakness we had identified, which led easily (perhaps a vague semblance of a path?) upwards across the mountain until it became possible to head directly upwards and then gain a ridge, which is much wider than it looks from below. It felt like a mountain above Glen Shiel, with little rocky outcrops leading to a well-defined and delightful summit - a wonderful viewpoint. From here, we could have descended the very steep ridge back to the village. But the continuation ridge looked even better, and actually looked a more comfortable way of getting back to Liegos. Appearances were not deceptive, and the ridge was superbly enjoyable. It was never hard or precipitous, but it was well-defined and absorbing throughout. Fairly narrow at first down to a little col, then just glorious as it rose above the Collado de las Traviesas. No sign of any kind of path or traffic, just picking our way up, the standard comparable to a mild Welsh scramble, Y Gribin perhaps. Eventually, we gained the forepeak of Pico de Recacabiello and then the main summit, Pico Mediodia, which had some kind of mast on top. The descent was through thick heather, reminding us of home, until we gained the beautiful pastoral valley of the Arroyo de Recacabiello. A dead horse marred this slightly, until we gained pastures and woodland curving gently down and giving us much needed shade back down to Liegos. A long drive to the Basque country ensued, broken by a stupendous lunch in Velilla del Rio Carrion.

Pico Gilbo

Peaks: Pico Gilbo (1679m)

Routes: East Ridge (PD+ III: Led p.2,4,6)

Area: Riano, Leon

With some inevitability, Pico Gilbo is known as the Matterhorn of Leon for its elegant outline and tapering spire. When seen from Riano, however, this range of peaks actually looks more like Arctic Norway. This is because a series of reservoirs (which look natural but presumably are not) lends an astonishing foreground to a series of stark white spires: it recalls Lofoten or Skye. Pico Gilbo is by far the most accessible of the mountains, which are little known to foreigners, and gives a classic scramble by its East Ridge. We parked at the far end of the long Norway-style bridge from Riano and set off round the Esla 'rio' to gain tangled woodland and an awkward, very hot route up the valley east of Pena Vallarque. This was tenuous, but eventually we emerged from the woods into a verdant hollow - comfortable meadows and, finally, a view of our objective. The East Ridge rises above the little col that is also key to the normal route and looks quite steep from this angle (although it looks even steeper from Riano). All of this is an illusion, of course, as it is little more than a scramble in reality. We headed up to the col, then started the ridge, initially up a delightful series of limestone crags until it steepened. We roped up, and Peter led up a little wall to a traverse rightward and up to a belay. I then led up the ridge to a small steepening, and we continued in this vein until my 4th, which took a horizontal semi-knife edge to a niche and an old peg. It is never remotely hard or serious, but this makes it all very enjoyable - and a nice breeze took the edge of the 35C temperature at mid-afternoon. The 5th pitch crossed a gap and then went up steeper rock to an open grassy bay. Finally, I led up a loose and quite steep chimney to the end of the difficulties. The summit is a wonderful place with truly stunning views: and we had it to ourselves. Below, the Rio Elsa provided a perfect turquoise base to the sparkling white peaks with green forests on their slopes. Yordas and Penas Pintas were particularly impressive. Further north, the pyramidal spire of Pena Prieta caught the eye. After some delightful lazing around, we descended the normal route on the western side of Gilbo to pick up some variation paths back down to the lakeside and car. 

Pico de la Devesa

Peaks: Pico de la Devesa (1853m)

Area: Puerto de San Gloria, Leon

The boundary of Green Spain and stereotypical 'yellow' Spain (not its formal title!) is essentially this range of hills, spanning the ridgeline along the Puerto de San Gloria, which marks the border between Cantabria and Leon. I vividly remember driving to Leon from Asturias in 2000 and descending into the baked valleys of the south. Today, we had a classic illustration of this extraordinary geographical and climatic boundary, as we set off from Fuente De in drizzle and mist, climbing up for miles towards the Puerto de San Gloria. It was dank and cool at the top of the pass, a stiff breeze blowing, but we thought it would be nice to take in one of the peaks on this most important of watersheds. Coriscao was too far in the conditions, so we opted to run up Pico de la Devesa instead. This worked well, straight up a fire track initially, which gave way to tangled maquis and a steep rise before a final spire of conglomerate which gave a brief scramble to a little summit cairn. The mist never quite cleared enough for us to realise we were possibly on the wrong peak (Pena de la Nava, perhaps, all the map was unclear), although it did break up spectacularly as we descended. This revealed some wild valleys, like the Portillo del Boqueron, to the east. Green Spain stayed in the mist and drizzle as we descended and then, rapidly, the yellow valleys of Leon became sun-drenched and baked as the cloud dissolved.

Pena Remona, Torre Alcacero

Peaks: Torre Alcacero (2247m), Pena Remona (2227m)

Area: Picos de Europa, Cantabria

Pena Remona is the subject of a million tourist photos from Fuente De and the top of El Cable. It is lower than surrounding peaks, but a striking mountain of tiered limestone that looks particularly good from the car park. After a night in Potes, we drove back to Fuente De and pitched tents in the tranquil El Redondo. It was too late, and far too hot, when we set off for the notoriously steep slog up the Canal del Embudo as a result. These 'canals' are typical Picos features, but unlike those on our return leg yesterday, this was in full midday sunshine with the steep walls concentrating the heat. The path weaves around the broad lower part of the gully before traversing up higher and higher on the right-hand wall. It certainly gains height quickly but I was shedding a lot of water. A few shelves higher up eventually gain the Collado de Liordes, almost 1000 metres above. Here, the day changes completely because ahead is the dreamlike meadow of the Vega de Liordes. I had been here before, with Kate in 2000, and vividly remember it - in fact, it is my clearest memory of that trip. An almost level green meadow high and hidden above the valleys, with horses and cows grazing, surrounded by shimmering limestone peaks and spires. The onward route to Pena Remona was not obvious, but I picked my way across broken rock to a little gully where I picked up a series of tiny cairns. These weaved up the steep slopes, a mixture of grass, scree and open rock. It was hard but satisfying and enjoyable. As I approached the top of the ridge, I spied a cross further right and decided I would head there first (there are four different peaks on the ridge). I gained a little col, then a short wall led to a narrow ridge - which was short-lived and gave access to a final little rock scramble. This peak turned out to be Torre Alcacero, so I retraced my steps to gain the normal (still fairly tenuous) route up Pena Remona itself, with its summit a mini-pyramid. The views throughout were tremendous - with sheer drops to Fuente De and Espinama on one side. To the west, Torre de Salinas towers over the Vega. Then to the north, the high peaks of the central massif. Again, crystal clear throughout, despite the fact that it was early afternoon. Peter and I had split up on the climb but met again on the summit of Remona. He decided to drop down the steep slopes direct to Fuente De and our camp, while I decided to return direct to the Vega de Liordes, to spend more time in this wonderful place and perhaps to head over the pass to make a circuit (I remember doing that with Kate). The descent was a little more comfortable and better defined, and I rested near the shepherd's hut at the far side of the vega. The issue was water: it had been so hot in the gully that my 1.5 litres was running out, so I decided to make a high loop tracing the edges of the Vega, drinking it in from every angle, then make a speed descent of the Canal del Embudo. Not what I would normally do, retracing steps like this, but the Canal is so spectacular that I gained an entirely different perspective on the way down, which was predictably hot, dusty and arduous. At the bottom, slightly desperate, I plunged into the Fuente De cafeteria for a memorable can of Pepsi, then refuelled on Cantabrian beef cheeks at El Redondo.

Refugio Ubeda to Espinama (Picos Traverse day two)

Peaks: La Garmona (2286m)

Area: Picos de Europa, Asturias/Cantabria

If yesterday was something of a standard trade route, traversing the Picos from south to north, we selected a more ambitious return south, through less travelled and wonderfully wild terrain. Both days were a perfect illustration of the central reality of the Picos: it is so compact that one day is easily adequate to get from one side to the other. The initial key to the day was the Canal de la Celada: a deep and hidden valley obscured by the stunning Naranjo. After porridge and a leisurely start, we packed the tents and enjoyed the wonderful play of light as mist rolled up from the valleys then dispersed. We found the small path leading from the hut to the dramatic entrance to the Celada. This then gave a superb onward route, in the shadow between gigantic limestone walls. Some scrambling led steeply up to rocky shelves and finally a broad col below the easier side of the Naranjo de Bulnes. The onward view was superb, remote-feeling and very dramatic. The deep Jou tras el Pico was below and right, with the Naranjo immediately behind us. Ahead, a bowl of rock with steep walls on all sides. We knew there was only one way through, and eventually spied traces of a path up the scree to the tiny, hidden Collado Bonita below several pinnacles and peaks, including La Morra. A level path leads to an awkward section of smooth slabs, steep in places, which eventually gained the shifting scree higher up. This gave a very arduous ascent, luckily still in shade, reminiscent of the Maritime Alps. Finally, we emerged blinking into the sunshine at the tiny narrow col. Another party was already there, and more people were behind - but from here, we saw nobody at all in one of the remoter and least trodden corners of the Picos. The view from the collado (a classic Alpine breche, very narrow and the only feasible route through) was stunning and is considered one of the classic viewpoints of the Picos. The Naranjo towered behind with a cloud inversion still visible to the north. Ahead, new terrain over to the Eastern Massif and ahead towards the south. The descent was very steep initially, then curved round to the Hoyacon de Villasobrada - where the path became tenuous and the landscape even more special. A herd of rebeccos (chamois) broke cover and we weaved through very complex terrain of sinkholes, runnels and very rough limestone ridges. This gave very challenging route-finding throughout and would have been impossible in mist. We traversed the Torre de Santiago then negotiated the terrain below Torre Navarro. We lost the path once, then dropped much lower to pick up a clearer path, with some relief, that I felt must lead to our target of the Coteras Rojos. It did indeed, and the rocks got redder as it climbed. Gradually, Pena Vieja - yesterday's peak - came into view albeit from a different angle. A bit more climbing, and the views opened out - all navigational mysteries solved. Above, Vieja and the Canalona col. Ahead, a steep descent to the green meadows around Refugio Aliva and the prospect of water. First, though, we took in the nearby peak of La Garmona, an obvious viewpoint. This gave a little scramble to a small summit which forms one end of a mini range of peaks, which look stunning from the Aliva side. Even La Garmona looks deceptively hard and sheer. After a bite, we continued downwards. This was steep and hard at first, but just as we were beginning to anticipate the luxury of level ground and green meadows, the ground drops away and the route enters the Canal del Vidrio. Vidrio translates as 'glass', a clue to its character. An exposed traverse led to a series of scrambly shelves and then steep scree, taking an intricate and arduous route downwards - a classic sting in the tail. I suspect the Canal del Vidrio has some local notoriety. Finally, level bouldery terrain and then the joy of a track to the Aliva refuge. This was rather too high end for us, so after a drink we jogged across beautiful green meadows to the Portillas del Boqueron. Just below this, we came back in signal and received the unwelcome news that we would be quarantined on our return to the UK meaning that I would have to cancel the Ireland trip. This left a sour taste after a wonderful two day traverse and rather spoiled the ending - a long series of tracks. As these entered the pastoral meadows and woods above Espinama, I began to recognise them from 20 years ago. K and I spent two nights in Espinama. This time, we headed straight back to the car, and after a drink headed to Potes.

Espinama to Refugio Ubeda (Picos Traverse day one)

Peaks: Pena Vieja (2613m), Torre de Los Horjados Rojos (2506m)

Area: Picos de Europa

A few months ago, it seemed very unlikely that there would be any kind of overseas travel this year. By my reckoning, I have had an overseas mountain trip every year since 1989 (when I went to Arctic Norway after my first year of university), so it was nice to continue that streak in such a disastrous era. We had originally planned to go to Corsica, but that (along with Madeira and Sicily) had been cancelled. So another roll of the dice saw us setting off for Bilbao, intent on returning to the Picos for the first time since Kate and I visited just over 20 years ago in early summer 2000. We stayed outside Potes after a long and busy drive full of Spanish/Basque weekenders, then up to Fuente De, which I remembered clearly. It was a perfect Saturday morning, and absolutely packed to the point that I had to drop Peter off, then drive down to Espinama (where K and I stayed 20 years ago), then run back. A long queue for the cable ensued but I had reserved, and eventually we were away and up to El Cable at the edge of the Hoyos de Lloroza and the high peaks of the Picos. It wasn't far off midday, yet the clarity of light was stunning. Pena Remona draws the eye initially, as does Pico de Padierna, which I did on my last visit. We had two days worth of food and kit, however, and were intent on a high traverse to Refugio Ubeda via a peak or two. Initially, this path is very busy (as it was in 2000) as it is so accessible, but it thins out after the crag of La Vueltona. Peter missed the turn for Pena Vieja but I called him back, we hid most of the gear, and ploughed upwards for the Collado de la Canalona, a small col and the key to the ascent of Pena Vieja. I had tried to get Kate up this in 2000, but we retreated from the convex and snow-plastered slopes (early season). Today, no problem at all - this is a simple ascent but very rewarding. From the little col, a contouring path leads to the final climb up Pena Vieja, which steepens to slabby shelves below the summit, which is a fairly narrow ridge with superb views across the range. It's one of the highest peaks of the Picos, and a great start to the trip. We scampered back to the col and down to lunch at our hidden sacs before rejoining the main path, and the hordes for the route beyond Cabana Veronica to the major pass of Horcados Rojos in the heart of the range. From here, we too the opportunity to bag Torre de los Horcados Rojos at 2506m. This has an even better view than Vieja, as it is 100m lower and in the middle of the range. Superb clarity over Tesorero, the Naranjo de Bulnes (for the first time) and Torre Cerrado further west. The peak had a little double summit with narrow connecting ridge and griffon vultures flew beneath us, no more than 100 metres away. Back down the col, from where the onward route south is not obvious at all initially. The route down to the Jour de los Boches (the Picos is characterised by barren 'hollows' of this kind) is very steep, a headwall of rock, and the only feasible route curves rightwards before taking a series of cables and good scrambling sections slanting downwards. This was all fairly absorbing and very enjoyable. At the base of the cwm, I rested on a low rock and drank the rest of my water (I'd carried almost two litres), gambling on the Ubeda refuge being fairly close. Water is a big issue, of course. The rest of the route was wonderful, with the towering walls of the Neveron and Pardida left and the Naranjo coming into view ahead. An even more hostile hollow is traversed, the Jou Sin Tierre, and then a rolling base of mist began to form ahead as we crested a short rise to the green meadow of the Vega de Urriellu and the hut, all made possible by a spring. To the right, the genuinely stupendous sight of the West Face of the Naranjo de Bulnes, undoubtedly one of the most spectacular pieces of rock in Europe and one of the continent's finest sights. We pitched the tents in a beautiful limestone hollow and enjoyed a wonderful evening of shifting mists, cloud inversions in the northern valleys, and beer and crisps from the refuge (it was easy to forget about Covid in the mountains, but you remember as soon as you reach the hut, with masks, no dining, and no free movement).

Conwy-Mymbyr (Low Route/Ffordd Isaf)

The return leg, leaving at 7am and heading through Conwy to Henryd. Then a delightful series of quiet, twisting lanes through Rowen, before the very steep lane from Pontwgan to Llanbedr y Cennin, which feels like you're climbing straight back into the heart of the Carneddau for a while. There was probably a better way to do this section, but it was all very scenic. From Llanbedr, I dropped down to Tal y Bont where a pavement leads to Dolgarrog - the only main road section. Then I took the Pipe Dream steps through Coed Dolgarrog. These are immensely steep but gain height very rapidly, and ultimately lead via the pipe to the contouring track which leads lengthily but gently up into Cwm Cowlyd. I inspected the derelict farm at Garreg and then took the awkward bridleway along the west shore of Cowlyd. From the lip of Cowlyd it is plain, if boggy, sailing down to Ogwen and Capel - before a rather dull haul along Dyffryn Mymbyr to the car - 2:58 from Conwy, over an hour less than yesterday's 'haute route', so I was back in Hod by 11am.

Mymbyr-Conwy (Haute Route/Ffordd Uchaf)

Peaks: Foel Goch, Carnedd Llewellyn, Foel Grach, Carnedd Gwenllian, Foel Fras, Drum, Carnedd y Ddelw
Area: Glyderau/Carneddau, Eryri
Definitely a day for deploying crowd-avoiding tactics, with Ogwen rammed and 500 cars at Pen y Pass. Just a mile or two away, I had a lay-by to myself in Dyffryn Mymbyr, and saw nobody at all on my pathless trudge over the Glyderau. This was conceived as a mini-version of last July's Sea-to-Sea Porthmadog-Conwy traverse, but with a return next morning. It worked well, although the Miner's Track from PyG was the real plan (crowds put paid to that). Instead, I started just before PyG at pt 259 below Nant Ddu, heading north-east: I crested the Glyders just below Foel Goch and dropped down to the lonely col between it and Gallt yr Ogof. This is entirely pathless but I hit it bang on by instinct, which was nice. From there, down the tussocky Nant yr Ogof (also visited last year) to Gwern Gof Isaf in Ogwen. Over the A5 then up the tarmac to Ffynnon Llugwy and Bwlch Eryl Farchog. There were groups around, but numbers were never that high, in stark contrast to the honeypots. Indeed, I had the summit of Carnedd Llewellyn to myself unbelievably given the post-lockdown clamour. The weather had been near-perfect to that point - warm and sunny - but banks of mist rolled in as I took on the very familiar run north over Foel Grach, Carnedd Gwenllian and Foel Fras. It cleared again completely for Drum and Carnedd y Ddelw. As usual, the full traverse of the Carneddau is a thirsty affair. I have done it several times in both directions, and there is no water at all on the main ridge line. From Cae Coch, I ran to Garnedd Wen and stopped to scoop from one of the streams. From Garnedd Wen, the long run down the lanes to Conwy is always a little painful - 4 hours to Conwy from Mymbyr. Shower and refuelling in Hod.

Berwyn loop

Peaks: Cadair Bronwen, Cadair Berwyn, Craig Berwyn, Moel Sych
Area: Berwyn
With restrictions lifted, I had no desire to brave the crowds in Ogwen or the Clwydians, so headed immediately to an old favourite circuit which is always empty. I did my favourite version of the loop, parking in Llandrillo and heading up the steep road and track to Moel Ty Uchaf (for me, the most wonderful stone circle of all, but you wouldn't want that widely known!). The track turns right and heads straight up the open hillside to eventually gain the summit of Cadair Bronwen. I've been coming here for years and have never seen anybody on the summit. Today: seven people in two different groups! So I pelted across to the main ridge, and up Cadair Berwyn in 5.30 from bwlch above Ffordd Saeson. People were on this summit too, and the next one (which I call Craig Berwyn but is sometimes unacceptably called 'New Top'). The usual boggy trudge to Moel Sych which (finally) I had to myself. Good thing too, for the clarity of light was very unusual: I could clearly see the Brecon Beacons and even distinguish the three peaks of Pen y Fan, Corn Du and Cribyn with the naked eye. Wrekin, Aran, Breidden Hills, Long Mynd, Cader and central Eryri all unusually clear. I contoured round to pick up the boggy path which leads down to lonely Cwm Dywyll, and back down to Llandrillo: 1.58 for the round.

Glas Tulaichean

Peaks: Glas Tulaichean (1051m), Creag Bhreac
Area: Glenshee
I've never been interested in bagging all the Munros, although I've done around 100. The main reason for this is that I've always considered myself a cherry picker, keen to avoid the duller mounds. The reality, however, is that I enjoy almost anything, and always find something to value. This was a good example: a mountain with a dull reputation, with some justification higher up, but by creating a loop I was able to do it justice and the valleys were a delight. I parked by the bridge in Spittal of Glenshee and ran along the tarmac road to the hotel at Dalmunzie, still closed. From here, I took the side valley of Glen Lochsie, which was very pleasant with an ancient Victorian railway (now barely visible) which led up to an abandoned lodge. From here, the real climbing starts, up the featureless Breac Reidh ridge via a jeep track. This curved left with great views over Beinn a'Ghlo, before curving back right to a final pull to the summit. Lovely views over remote peaks like Carn an Righ and up to the Cairngorms with shower clouds over the Lairig Ghru. I was delighted to find that the south-east ridge was gloriously runnable over moss, and passed a golden plover in full breeding plumage. I took in the minor summit of Creag Bhreac before dropping steeply through the crags of Creag Dhearg to rest and drink by a remote little stream tumbling down from the upper slopes. Great views up Gleann Taitneach to some nice looking unheralded peaks like Carn Binnean - and then down into the main glen, crossing the river to a track which gave a long but comfortable descent to Spittal past dozens of bubbling curlew, perhaps the best sound of all. I considered taking in Ben Gulabin but it is very steep from this angle and would have finished me off before the drive home. I had a full (bracing) river bath near the bridge, then drove home.

Glas Maol-Creag Leacach

Peaks: Glas Maol (1068m), Creag Leacach (987m)
Area: Glenshee
After lunch above Pitlochry in warm sunshine, I had a decision to make. I was a little tired after the two previous outings, but with very little open it wasn't as if I could sit in a pub all afternoon. So there was only one real option (apart from spending the day sitting in the car) - more mountains! As a concession to tiredness, and the prevailing weather, I headed up towards Glenshee via the road from Pitlochry. I have been along this once before, with the family the day after breaking 3 hours for the first time at the Edinburgh marathon in 2008. That day I did the three accessible munros above the Cairnwell, the easiest and worst in Scotland: I remember being very tired! This was similar circumstances, albeit not quite as extreme - so I drove right up to the top of the Cairnwell Pass and headed up Meall Odhar. This has ski paraphenalia low down but this is fairly easy to avoid and the springy turf gave a comfortable ascent all the way up Glas Maol. I was tired but still made the summit in 40 minutes or so. Views over Glen Brighty to the east, and excellent views up to the main Cairngorms as well as Lochnagar (which remains a gap for me). The weather had cleared beautifully and the rest of the day was wonderful. Glas Maol is a huge plateau without too many redeeming features, but the next hill - Creag Leacach - is more shapely and a rocky ridge connects the two. Superb fast running led down to this, and I really enjoyed the route up Creag Leacach, which I had to myself in the sunshine. Big skies and big views. I then contoured round to the Meall Gorm spur which led to a shallow col where I had a rest and a drink from the stream. Then it was steeply down to the valley and tiringly back up to the top of the Cairnwell via the Devils's Elbow. I then drove a short way down from the Cairnwell Pass to a superb bivvy site looking down Glen Shee and up to Creag Leacach. It was wonderful - and I dined on mackerel and quinoa before turning in for 9.5 hours restorative sleep.

Beinn a'Ghlo traverse

Peaks: Carn Liath (976m), Braigh Coire Chruinn-Bhalgain (1070m), Carn nan Gabhar (1121m)
Area: Beinn a'Ghlo, Atholl
Easily the most interesting outing in this part of Scotland, Beinn a'Ghlo was the focal point of this microtrip - a range of hills rather than a single mountain, with lots of hidden cwms and landscape features. After my short run from Drumochter, the weather stayed changeable and after fish and chips in Blair Atholl I headed up the minor road to Loch Moraig and Monzie, where it becomes a track. A more perfect car bivouac could not be imagined: looking straight out at Carn Liath, the first peak of the traverse, then big views over the isolated farm at Monzie to the peaks above Glen Tilt further north and east. The light and weather changed continually, with showers drifting in, periods of evening sunshine and rainbows. It was beautifully peaceful, with a drumming snipe in the early hours. Next morning, I had coffee and breakfast then set out in less than ideal conditions. It might have been better to wait, but there wasn't much else to do, so I set off and sheltered behind the locked hut at the end of the track as a squally shower blew in. It was pretty grim for the steep haul up Carn Liath, even worse than yesterday at times, with heavy rain and windchill. At the summit of Carn Liath, I took a bearing in thick mist, thinking it would be a day of tricky nav. But the moment I got up to continue down the ridge, the mist tore away revealing Glen Tilt below and the next two peaks ahead. A superb section along the twisting ridge of Beinn Mhaol followed. Beinn a'Ghlo is famous for its numerous distinctive corries, which grace the long ridge and all have different characteristics. The next climb up Braigh Coire Chruinn-Bhalgain started steep but was surprisingly comfortable and even fairly runnable in places. The top was hostile and misty, and the next section tricky and very cold. In fact, I considered descending down to get out of the wind at one point. In the end, I did this to get out of the wind, put on all my spare clothes and felt much more comfortable. So a little variant as I contoured round to gain the key col that marks the descent to Coire Lagain. At this point, the cloud lifted again for views to the much wilder terrain over Glas Leathad north-east. I ploughed up in strong winds to the top of Carn nan Gabhar, the crowning peak which has a long plateau-like summit. Good running back down as the weather finally cleared. This was a tad unlucky, as all three summits had been misty, but it made the descent far more enjoyable. I drank from a stream then pelted
down Allt Bealach an Fhiodha past Beinn Bheag above Coire Lagain. Great views of interlocking spurs. Saw only one person - so it was a surprise at the end of this very long descent to see 40 cars at my isolated bivvy site. The easing of restrictions was the obvious explanation, as well as the accessibility of this fine range. A really enjoyable morning - quite physically demanding, a time of 3.35 for the 23k and 1450m of climbing. I retreated down to Pitlochry for lunch in warm sunshine.

Sgairneach Mhor

Peaks: Sgairneach Mhor (991m)
Area: Badenoch, Scotland
Restrictions eased just in time to allow me to salvage something from my remaining leave. We should have been in Sicily, but Covid put paid to that. Instead, the weather in the Highlands looked half decent, even though this is several weeks later than my annual trips have tended to be over the past decade. Also, there was no point heading further north-west, as time was limited and the weather looked grim. All some explanation for the fact that this leg stretcher took me back to some of Scotland's dullest hills, those surrounding the Pass of Drumochter. They have the virtue of accessibility, however, and are an ideal way to stretch the legs after the drive up. I did the two Munros of Geal Charn and A'Mharconaich a few years ago in just over an hour while Kate and kids had a coffee in Dalwhinnie. This time, I ran up Coire Dhomhain at 6pm and headed south up the boggy hillside west of the Sow of Atholl. It started to rain as I crossed the Allt Coire Dhomhain via the lower bridge, and I got a real battering for the climb, which eases as it reaches the pleasant whaleback NE ridge. It was cold, wet and windy - fairly bitter as I reached the rounded summit of Sgairneach Mhor in around 47 minutes. The shower briefly passed through, revealing a superb rainbow over Drumochter below. I considered continuing to Beinn Udlamain, but decided to save my legs, heading instead to the upper reaches of Coire Dhomhain which had a nice Highland feel, albeit slightly misleading. The awkward rocky slopes of Sgairneach flushed a family of ptarmigan, but eased at the bottom. I forded the stream and then enjoyed the perfectly runnable return down the bottom of the Coire Dhomhain to complete a nice loop in 90 minutes. It rained heavily again, but it didn't matter, and I dried out on the drive to Blair Atholl for fish and chips.

Crafnant Horseshoe

Peaks: Crimpiau, Craig Wen, Creigiau Gleision
Area: Carneddau, Eryri
A slight variant on the usual circuit, in that I started in Trefriw and ran up to the lake by way of an aperitif and leg-stretcher. It worked quite well, and I reached Llyn Crafnant in less than 19 minutes. After jogging along the lakeside tarmac, it is always a relief to reach the open hill, and I always enjoy the short but steep climb up Crimpiau, as it twists and turns through delightful scenery with views eventually opening out to the south, Siabod and Ogwen. It was cloudy but warm on top of Crimpiau (47m from Trefriw), and all very enjoyable. The route over Craig Wen went well, searching out some scrambly sections, then the boggy section before the climb up the three peaks of Creigiau Gleision. A little sunshine started to peek through whilst I rested at the summit: the views over Cowlyd, Pen Llithrig and Tryfan are some of the best in Eryri. The return leg was a little more tiring, through the forest to the lakeside path, then back down the tarmac to Trefriw. Just over two hours.

Glyderau loop

Peaks: Glyder Fach, Glyder Fawr
Area: Glyderau, Eryri
A tad illicit but also memorable, this was just before the easing of restrictions. From Conwy, however, it's a local outing. I didn't fully realise that the honeypot areas like Ogwen and Snowdon really had been sealed off (in fact I had rather hoped to do the Snowdon Horseshoe in total isolation). Instead, I found a stile without a sign, hopped over and jogged up towards Bochlwyd crag, over the stream and steeply up to the lake. Total isolation and very memorable, particularly up to Bwlch Tryfan and Bristly Ridge with nobody anywhere near. Bristly gave the usual entertainment, and all the mist lifted for the jog across the Glyder plateau to Fawr. Down to Llyn y Cwn then good running to Idwal and across the hill to the same stile - 1.45 for the whole loop.