Pen Dinas-Trefin (PCP, day 2)

A fairly early start was necessary with a longish day in prospect and an empty tummy. My plan was to take a semi-direct line to Fishguard where I was sure I could source a decent breakfast. Pwllgwaelod in the early morning was beautiful, a velvet sea and backlit cliffs: complete tranquility. The clifftop walk that follows was similar, nobody around and multiple hidden coves. From the deepest inlet, Aber Bach, I cut diagonally inland to the curiously named Tre-wrach, then along a fine bridleway to the main road into Lower Town. This was briefly unpleasant, but quick, and brought me out in Fishguard just as the Popty cafe opened! An absolutely superb full breakfast followed, just the perfect way to replenish my diminished reserves. Through Penyraber where I stocked up for the crossing of Strumble Head, which is rather like the first section yesterday in the sense that there is no water and no shops. After the port at Goodwick, a steep tarmac climb through Harbour Village finally sees off the jarring urban 'sprawl'. Then comes a delightful section - completely empty and completely tranquil with the sea like a millpond. The only sound, apart from insects, came as the Rosslare ferry passed, along with a little fishing boat. Initially, this section looks out over Fishguard Bay to Dinas Island before swinging west to pass numerous little headlands like Pen Anglas and, most notably, Carreg Wastad. This shares its name with a famous Nant Peris crag, but is also the site of the 'last invasion', when French convicts landed in 1797. North of here, I cut the corner to Porthsychan and had a half hour break with a truly wonderful view of Ynys Meicell, Carreg Onnen and the Strumble Head lighthouse. Seals groaning below. Undoubtedly one of the best sections of the PCP follows, tracing remote coves and crags above Pwll Arian and Pen Brush to the big cliffs around Pwll Deri and new views along the St David's peninsula. Pwll Deri is particularly atmospheric, heathery cliffs dropping down to the sea, and dramatic steep coves. I had suggested a time of 4-5pm to meet Stee, so took another little direct line through Trefasser to emerge at Aber Bach, then through a wooded glade to the open beach of Aber Mawr (and the first people I had seen for some time!). Another very quiet section of the coast path follows, very hot now in mid-afternoon, through to Trwyn Llwynog and Ynys y Castell where I cut inland to the hidden village of Abercastle and a much needed tap in the toilet block (the first water since Goodwick, although I purchased a one litre bottle there so was just about OK). Then came an easy finish along the lane to a pint of Cwtch in the Ship, Trefin, and a luxurious and enjoyable (non-camping) evening with the Jones's: 36km/1100m.

St Dogmaels-Pen Dinas (PCP, day 1)

After enjoying Offa's Dyke so much last year, I decided more or less on a whim to do the best half of the Pembrokeshire coast path 'fastpacking' in a forecast heatwave, and combine it with a long overdue visit to Stee and Jenny in Trefin (around half way). I arrived in St Dogmaels in the early afternoon, and set off for what is considered the hardest and most committing stretch of the entire coast path around 1pm, carrying a muesli bar and half a litre of water. 'Fastpacking' is a horrible neologism, but it does encapsulate my approach, using my lightweight mountain marathon kit and moving quickly - sac reduced now to 3.8kg or so, not including food or water. A steep tarmac climb above Poppit Sands and the mouth of the Teifi eventually gains Cemaes Head. Turning the corner, the entire coastline down to Stumble Head stretches out in front, an enticing prospect. The weather was superb - hot but with a cooling breeze along the cliffs, a sea that was almost purple, and a deep blue cloudless sky. That weather stayed exactly like that for the 72 hours I spent on my route down to Broadhaven. As with OD, the trick is to embrace the spirit, the philosophy of the route, to reset the 'mindset'. In the case of the PCP, it is necessary to appreciate the basic point that the path religiously hugs the coastline throughout, and that coastline is of course complex. So, nothing is direct, nothing is quick. From Cemaes, the highpoint of the route is reached, hundreds of feet above the sea and the impressive cliffs of Pen yr Afr. The heather was in full bloom, adding another colour note to the beautiful scenery. The twisted rocks of Pwllygranant follow, stunning views throughout, superb cliff scenery with the path often close to the edge and lots of steepish ascents. These never last too long, however, and soon the haven of Ceibwr Bay is reached, a hidden, tranquil inlet. Later on comes Pwll y Wrach (witches cauldron), a classic blow-hole caused by the collapse of a sea arch, appearing to be an isolated lagoon. Then comes the final 10k stretch to Newport, right out along the edge of the cliffs again with Pen Dinas and Strumble coming visibly closer. Round the final headland, dehydrated now and ready for a feed and drink in Newport. It took a long time to reach, however, and the path detours to cross the Nevern. By now I was 16 miles into the route but had made decent time - I had fish and chips in mind, but Newport is more highbrow than that (I was last here for the Preseli Beast race a few years ago). Instead, a basic feed and a lot of fluid from the spar had to suffice before I embarked on the final section as the sun dropped. This was still delightful, albeit less spectacular, through Parrog as the sun dropped in front of me, the more twists and turns towards Cwm yr Eglwys after passing numerous hidden coves. I improvised a route up the hillside, more or less guessing the line towards the campsite I'd seen from below. I pitched in an empty corner (the rest of the site was occupied by big camper vans) and enjoyed my inadequate pasta salad after a walk to see if the pub at Pwllgwaelod was open (it wasn't): 32km/1100m.

Delamere parkrun

'Race': Delamere parkrun

Time/Position: 18.10 (2nd from 199 [1st V50])

This must be one of the longest established parkruns in the region, so it is a little odd that I've never got round to it before. This version is a lovely route, from the big car park at Old Pale, then down towards Blakemere Moss, an attractive wooded lake which the course loops around in its entirety. All of this is off road, but on big tracks with just the occasional mild incline. Hot weather (the start of a heatwave) so it was nice to have some shade. I passed a couple of younger lads at the dappled far end of the lake but finished just behind the young (female) runner in front.

Moelwynion north

Peaks: Moel Siabod, Carnedd y Cribau, Cerrig Cochion, Ysgafell Wen north

Area: Moelwynion, Eryri

I did this stretch numerous times, in both directions, in 2019. The reasons for this foolishness were complicated, but it's always quite hard work and not particularly enjoyable (in my view) between Cribau and Cochion. It is a great way to escape the crowds, however, which is why I took it today. I did a version of this loop the week before doing the Fellsman in April 2019:  resulting in a huge amount of mileage and climbing that week. From PyB, I took the route through the woods to the standard Siabod ascent, taking it easy to reach the summit in 46 minutes. Some light rain, then the long and excellent descent to Carnedd y Cribau, with its superb views over Snowdon. The sun then came out for the long and frustrating haul over the lumpy, boggy country towards Cerrig Cochion - constant hidden dips and the occasional waist-deep bog. By Llyn Edno, things improve: it is one of Snowdonia's loveliest lakes, and the terrain becomes kinder for the jog up the northern end of Ysgafell Wen, a complex triple summit. I dropped down to Llynau'r Cwn for a snack and stream dip, as the cloud finally peeled away from Snowdon directly across the valley. Then it was down towards Llyn Llagi via an untrodden spur. North of the stream down to Nantmor (obscure but lovely, I've done it once or twice before), then down the excellent bridleway that cuts across to Gwynant. Along the lake, and then the minor road which eventually gives way to the stony power station track which used to provide a hard descent on the Snowdonia marathon. It is even harder this way round! At the top, it emerges near Pen y Gwryd, after which I'd planned to climb the Miners Track onto the Glyder ridge at Foel Goch. I was too tired, however, so jogged very slowly down Dyffryn Mymbyr instead, which was distinctly unpleasant - 31km/1500m.

Conwy parkrun

'Race': Conwy parkrun

Time/Position: 18.02 (3rd from 207 [1st V50])

A course PB by 8 seconds, which was pleasing, although it's only the second time I've ever done it. There can't be many better views from a parkrun, with Conwy Castle and the estuary ever present. There was a fairly stiff breeze and rain as we set off, although it didn't have too much of an effect. The twisting bridge over the railway, which has to be negotiated twice, must take 30 seconds off the times, although the rest of the course is flat (albeit gravelly) so there shouldn't be too many excuses. I didn't feel particularly great, but I was able to keep a decent pace ticking over and finished quite strongly after the bridge.

Cwm Clogwyn horseshoe

Peaks: Yr Wyddfa

Area: Snowdon, Eryri

The best description for this route is the Cwm Clogwyn horseshoe, although you rarely hear this. I remember doing it years ago with Rich, possibly the reverse of today's route, but had never really 'ran' it before. It would be an exaggeration to say I ran all the way today, particularly after last night's race, but it is certainly very well suited to moving quickly on. Snowdon Ranger is fairly long but also pretty gentle and runnable for the most part. Initial hairpins gain the side of Cwm Clogwyn, with Llechog (a crag I have never visited) notable on the right. Ahead, Snowdon was smothered in mist and I climbed up into it via the headwall which moves over to Moel Cynghorion before swinging up to the railway and Bwlch Glas. The familiar final haul to the summit follows - 62 minutes from the Ranger car park, which is OK. I jogged down through the mist towards Bwlch Main (I was last here in Spring) and then enjoyed the short but delightful ridge (with mist peeling away) above Llechog before embarking on the rather awkward zigzags that form the middle section of the Rhyd Ddu path. These curve east before easier grassy paths and gentle tracks lead down to the village. From here, a short section of the Snowdonia marathon route along the road back to the Snowdon Ranger car park: around 1.57 in total for the 15k/930m round.

Ponderosa hill race

Race: Ponderosa (6.4k/900ft)

Time/Position: 28.54 (7th from 88 [2nd V50])

Great to be back racing after all the slow, sweaty plodding up big mountains. I have done this race a lot over the years, at least six or seven times, and always enjoy it: the rewards of the very long and fast descent are out of all proportion to the demands of the very short climb at the start! Pleasingly, I was less than 20 seconds down on my best time for the course, perhaps because the descent from the mast is now down a much broader track (at least initially). I also felt pretty good, however, and made the top of Cyrn y Brain in nine minutes precisely. Positions were sorted within a few hundred metres, and although I got close to the young lad in front I was never going to get past him on the descent, which goes on for quite a while and always feels very exciting and fast. Definitely drier than usual, but I still began to slow fairly dramatically on the final climb to the finish near the top of the Old Horseshoe Pass, which is always the crux of this race, legs like jelly after the manic descent.

Mont Mounier

Peaks: Mont Demant (2441m), Petit Mounier (2728m), Mont Mounier (2817m)

Area: Peone, Maritime Alps

Mounier has been a big gap in my Maritime Alps CV for years. It is perfectly straightforward, in fact it is one of the most popular peaks in the entire southern alps with a very clear marked path. It is also very prominent, and towers above most other mountains in this south-western corner. However, from my usual stamping grounds it is hard to reach - which is some explanation for the fact that I've never got round to it before. It was time to put that right, and I left my gite above Peone for the short drive to the Col d'Espaul and set off around 8.30am in the most perfect weather of the trip so far: deep blue cloudless skies, not outrageously hot. Mounier is eminently suited to a running approach, but sadly I had to take water and a few other precautions and the only sac I had was my big 30 litre number, which wasn't ideal for fast movement. So, a gentle jog was the right approach, and I quickly reached La Colle on a broad track before heading off uphill towards the limestone crags of the Barre des Moulines. A few hairpins negotiate this, and then there are some open meadows before the lunar landscape that characterises the upper sections of Mounier is reached. Then comes the subpeak of Mont Demant, barely an independent summit but noticeable from below, hence its status I suspect. The route levels off through limestone screes across Mont Demant until a junction with the GR5 is reached along with a superb view of Petit and Mont Mounier across a dry valley, the entire ridge visible. The route climbs up to the Col de Crousette on the left, and then up a broad ridge to the summit of the Petit Mounier, with the remains of an mountain hut which used to stand on this site. A short jog and then the classic view of Mont Mounier, a perfect mountain rising in parallel lines. To reach it, a perfect horizontal ridge which was pure pleasure throughout. It was a mixture of limestone shelves and short scrambly sections, very mildly exposed but a wonderful catwalk. Where this ends, the final summit cone rises, and I reached the summit cross is 1.45 from the Col d'Espaul, not great but not too shabby given the size of my rucsack (I hate the weight penalty that water carrying imposes, but there really wasn't much choice on Mounier). The prominence of the mountain means that the views are those of the 'aeroplane' variety, very far reaching but perhaps not the most photogenic. I picked out all most of the peaks I'd climbed in the Mercantour (Argentera particularly notable, distantly above the Tinee valley) and admired the view over Cime Negre down towards my gite, with the upper valley above Peone clearly visible 2000 metres below. The most notable feature is the lack of vegetation - these limestone hills have a dessicated, desert mountain feel to them that is very distinctive and memorable. I skipped back to the Petit Mounier where I had a brief snack before continuing downwards at a sustainable loping pace: 2.48 for the out-and-back to the Col d'Espaul, 17k/1100m.

Cime du Fourchas

Peaks: Cime du Fourchas (2783m)

Area: Vens, Maritime Alps

Apart from the two easy peaks yesterday afternoon, everything else around the hut was a bit more involved. I couldn't find any details about ascent routes, yet from the opposite side of the valley both Cime du Fourchas (the mountain that frames Lacs de Vens and a million pictures) and the higher Clai Superior both looked feasible. In fact, I worked out potential routes from the summit of Cime des Blanches. The hut had a book full of topos but none of them went to the most eye-catching summits. After breakfast, the weather looked a little unsettled - there was a fair amount of cloud around and even a hint of rain in the air, gone was the morning stability of the last two days. My phone was out of charge, and this all meant that an even higher degree of caution was necessary. I initiated the plan I'd hatched yesterday, following a definite path up a stream/gully which I assumed headed up to the isolated Lac du Fourchas. It did, a lovely ascent and a stunning location with a powerful atmosphere. Ahead, Cime du Vens loomed and to the right, Clai Superior, all entirely monochrome above the grey lake. The latter was definitely feasible but not solo in this weather - it was capped by cloud and there were few signs of an improvement. So, it was definitely going to be the consolation prize, Cime du Fourchas. It was still very satisfying to pick my way up this untravelled peak - I would guess it gets very few ascents, perhaps a handful each year. I initially headed east up steeper slopes to gain a hanging valley with two higher lakes (which form a chain). Then I picked my way rightwards towards the obvious ridge, the Crete de Fourchas, which frames Lacs de Vens. After some steep scree, I entered the vague grassy couloir that seemed to offer easy access to the ridge. It did indeed, and emerged at a small col. From here the onward route was clearly straightforward, a broad, rocky ridge leading to a clear highpoint, which had a cairn and some evidence of occasional ascents! I built a small cairn at the top of the grassy couloir, just in case, and headed up and down, the cloudbase remained well above the peak, but still flirted with the higher mountains across the valley. I returned the same way, without difficulties, and after a snack at the hut descended back to the valley and my car. This time I took the standard path the whole way, which contours well above the Lacs de Vens then takes giant zigzags to join the 'cheminee vens' shortcut I'd taken yesterday. Superb views throughout in improving weather: all the way up to the Barcelonette peaks, and the mountains above St Dalmas like Tete du Vinaigre - still plenty to do. I drove down to St Etienne and back to the excellent bakery for an admirably local lunch of coca nicoise and pissaladiere. By St Saveur, the temperatures had climbed dramatically and I had a coffee in exceptionally hot weather before driving over to Peone.

Vens peaks

Peaks: Aiguilles des Tortisses (2672m), Cime des Blanches/Testa del Ferro (2763m)

Area: Lacs de Vens, Maritime Alps

My original plan for today was to take in Pointe Giegn from Boreon, then drive to St Etienne, then walk in to the Refuge de Vens. Foolish. Instead, after a big day yesterday I had a leisurely and pleasant breakfast in St Martin, then drove over to the Tinee valley (only my second ever visit to this side of the range) and up beyond St Etienne to the start of the walk-in to the Refuge de Vens (after buying a gourmet 'auvergne' sandwich for lunch). I was glad my plan had evolved to something more sensible as the walk-in was steep, even more so when I left the zigzags to take in a short-cut. I wasn't sure what this was, but my instinct told me to take it: turned out to be the 'cheminee Vens' (chimney), leading alongside the Torrent de Vens in a steep 279m climb squeezed into less than 800m horizontal, which was as steep as it sounds! A few scrambly steps, and relentless, but emerging at the exquisite lower lake. From here on, the scenery takes on a magical, stunning quality, similar in character to that of Lac d'Allos a little north of here. An exquisite blend of lakes and mountains, dotted with little copses and boulders. The path heads up through the chain of lakes to the top Lac de Vens and a view of the refuge, perfectly situated above a waterfall overlooking the lake. At the sun-drenched hut terrace, I had half my gourmet sandwich and then, expecting an afternoon thunderstorm, decided to bag the most obvious peaks from the vicinity of the hut. The most obvious was the Aiguilles des Tortisses, accessed via the zigzags of the GR52 which led up to a little col (below the major Col de Fer). A short climb gained the weird pinnacled summit (reminiscent of the Col d'Izoard, which isn't too far away) with superb views down to the refuge nestling in its verdant meadows and across to bigger peaks like Clai Superior. This was all too brief, so I returned to the col, then took what looked like an ancient border path (marked with side cairns) to cross over to the Italian side briefly, then a superb romp along a lovely ridge. Above, an ibex poised artfully on a large rock. To the left, interesting peaks like Monte Peiron and some old Italian frontier huts. A sharp forepeak led to the summit of Cime des Blanches and stunning views up to the main Cime de Vens, savage black ridges, rarely climbed I would assume. Dark clouds gathered, so it was back along the crest of the ridge, mild scrambling, and back to the col. I had a rest here, admiring the wonderful alpine flora, particularly impressive here, then jogging back to the hut. I spent a reasonable night here, refuelling on a superb beef daube, dauphinoise and local cheese, but unfortunately a large group of pensioners made the dorm pretty crowded and stifling that night.

Neiglier-Prals loop

Peaks: Mont Neiglier (2786m), Cime de la Vallette des Prals (2496m), Cime du Pertus (2437m), Tete du Cinant (2314m)

Area: Vesubie, Maritime Alps

After a 28 year campaign, not that many major gaps remain for me in the Maritime Alps. Indeed, that rather desultory 'campaign' has been on something of a hiatus since doing Argentera (the range's highpoint) in 2013 with Vic. Apart from that, and the early ascent of Cime du Gelas (the French highpoint) with Tim and Stee in 1994, all my trips to the region have been solo. The mountains are generally non-technical, and therefore suit a solo approach. One of the big remaining gaps was Mont Neiglier, so after dropping the family off at the airport I headed up to the Madone de Fenetre on Sunday evening, arriving at the refuge fairly late. I had a room to myself, where I was woken by moonlight (a very bright full moon shining straight through the skylight). After breakfast, I set off just after 7am up the familiar path to the Baisse des Prals, seeing a chamois almost immediately. This was a perfect way to reacquaint myself with the beauty of these mountains: a stunning path that gradually reveals more of the range as it climbs through the typical Mercantour blend of rocks and trees. To the left, Mont Ponset, which I did in the early 2000s, a superficially impressive peak from this side, but simpler and less complex than Neiglier, its neighbour and today's target. My basic plan was to reach the Baisse des Cinque Lacs via the standard path then take stock and see if the route up Neiglier looked clear. At first, it didn't: the correct cwm was the usual chaotic jumble of 'clapier' boulders. Later, as I moved down towards the lakes I could see a clear small path leading below the very impressive Pointe St Andre ridge up into the cwm. Sadly all I knew was that the normal route takes an 'oblique gully' which heads up to the left, I had no further details and no topo. Still, it was so early that if I abandoned Neiglier plans the day would just have been too short, so I headed upwards. Half way up, the path disappeared in a boulder field but I saw a few small cairns leading up to a likely looking gully. At the base of it, however, it looked unlikely - I couldn't see the top and certainly didn't feel like committing to it. Round a rocky corner and more cairns led to another left-facing gully, so I took a look at that from below too! In some ways it looked feasible, but my mountain brain was again sending out warning signals, so with that I decided to abandon the attempt entirely and continue down to the Lacs des Prals through the boulder field. At the bottom of this, I saw a huge cairn, then another, and then saw a vague route leading up the screes to the very back of the cwm. From here, it did look possible that a left-slanting 'oblique gully' might provide the key to unlock the conundrum. In reality, it is barely a gully at all, more like a slanting series of slabby steps, and it was actually really enjoyable. After a brief slog up the scree, I gained the line and it was obvious - finally - that I was on route. Two little steps provide the only difficulty, and lead to solid slabs at the top which give way to a tiny breche and spectacular, sudden views. The walls plunge away on the far side, and Ponset, Gelas and St Robert all loom across the valley. From the col, about 100m of mild scrambling up the east ridge follows, weaving around to find the easiest line, slightly exposed in a couple of places before easy rocks gain the summit. Superb views in all directions, a stunning place to be, with the Grand Capelet particularly notable (done in the late 2000s). A few clouds blocked the valleys but generally the weather was sunny and fine. The descent was simple, including the slabby steps, although the lower cwm was very arduous, giant 'clapier' boulders typical of the range. I gained the beautiful cinq lacs with some relief and had a snack in an alpine meadow next to the largest lake (accompanied by a screaming marmot). After a short descent, I spied an obvious short cut up a moraine which gained a horizontal path easing progress up to the Baisse de Prals, a notable col and new territory for me. Then came the relaxing part of the day, along the gentler ridges stretching towards St Martin. First up was Cime de la Valette des Prals, a focal point of all of those ridges and a major Mercantour summit despite its low altitude and gentle aspect. A full frontal slog gained the summit, from which it was clear that the weather was on the turn over the higher peaks: threatening black clouds now draped Neiglier and the other high peaks, so my early start had proved extremely prudent (not for the first time). The threat of rain, or worse, did quicken my pace a bit - but the remaining gentle hills remained clear and have a completely different feel in any case. I left the main path to take in Pertus, another large but gentle hill, then contoured to just below Tete de la Lave before sticking to the main ridgeline (not the marked path) to take in Tete de Cinant at 2314m. This had a little coterie of ravens on the summit, and a griffon vulture flew past too. From here I took in a sharp unnamed second summit then dropped down to the Baisse des Ferisson, another major col, and decided to call it a day and descend to the Madone through beautiful woodland. At Lou Cavalon, where I could see the Madone, I stupidly took the left-hand branch of the path, which descended westwards towards the road. This added a fair bit to the day, with a tiring reascent of the road back up to the Madone: 1630m of climbing, close to 19k, well over four hours. I arrived at the Madone to find over a thousand people in attendance, and hundreds of cars, possibly for a funeral or wake. So I drove straight to St Martin to find my gite and have a pissaladiere under the trees: thunderstorm later on that day, followed by a great Nicois meal in one of the 'cave' restaurants.

Bauroux

Peaks: Bauroux (1645m)

Area: Castellane Pre-Alpes, France

This was a near-perfect hillwalk to do with Morgan. I've done most of the mountains around Castellane before - Robion, Teillon, Bernarde and Destourbes all stick in my mind, nice peaks with distinct profiles. Bauroux is a little lower, but it is also a long ridge, lends itself to a loop, and I felt it would be ideal for a father-and-son outing. So it proved, as we set out after the longish drive via Mons and Fayence up butterfly-festooned slopes from the village of Seranon. Above, the long limestone ridge of Bauroux is really impressive. The route takes a nicely logical upward route to gain the wooded western end of the ridge with sudden views north to Teillon and other familiar limestone hills. A lovely breeze kept temperatures manageable, which had been my main concern (it was around 36-37c at the coast). In addition, the route then heads up the wooded northern side of the ridge, up to a wonderful viewpoint which looks out over the crags. The ridge is quite complex, with numerous tops, so the path stays well away from it, weaving through the woods until it heads decisively upwards after the final forepeak. Some rocky sections as the treeline is left just below the summit, which has a big cross, wonderful views, and lots of butterflies enjoying the superb limestone flora. The clarity was excellent and we could pick out Maritime Alps peaks which I'd done before in the distance: Gelas, Argentera, Malinvern and others. Across the valley, the Var's highpoint of Lachens, which I took them up (mostly by car) when they were very small. After a fine lunch, we continued down the steeper eastern side, eventually reaching the village of Caille. From here, we took a slight wrong turning south before heading west back to Seranon. Then it was down to Cannes via Grasse for a culinary reward.

Esterel tops

Revisiting old favourite runs this week, all of them pre-breakfast to avoid the ferocious heat that was building (particularly towards the end of the week). On Tuesday, I did my favourite Perthus loop but with a longer twist, first taking in the Piste de Castelli, a 2.5km perfect track that ends on the tarmac near the maison forestiere. From here, the usual Perthus loop is joined (16k in total, so a fair bit longer than the usual route). This morning, after a bad night's sleep, I parked below Pic du Cap Roux and jogged along the road to the Baisse du Sangliers and then the direct path up Pic de l'Ours. I remember doing this in stifling afternoon heat one year, but this wasn't much better, like breathing in hot tar. The path takes a direct line but I then missed the continuation at the road hairpin, taking the tarmac instead: this was really annoying. The true summit is crowned by a giant rocket, and is inaccessible, but I've been here before and enjoyed the descent. From the baisse, I took in Pic d'Aurelle, one of the best views of all, poised directly above the Med and nicely rocky. Later in the week, I ran up Colle d'Allons, the wooded hills opposite the site, and also jogged up Pic du Cap Roux, one of my favourites, from the Plateau d'Antheor. I didn't do Vinaigre from the site, but I did run up the Cabre valley to its terminus, then up to Malavallettes and back via Col Noir, which is almost as long and probably works better as a run.

Dyserth climbing

Crag: Dyserth Slab

Routes: Jason and the Aga Nuts (f5:led), Leo saw us Rex (f4+:sec)

Tim was back on one of his rare visits from New Zealand, and wanted to do a few routes. The only problem was that I have climbed very little since Covid, and have also failed to replace my quickdraws after they were stolen three years ago in Bergamo! The improvised gear limited us to the two short routes on the right of the crag, but it was very nice to catch up with Tim and Steve.

Chester parkrun

'Race': Chester parkrun

Time/Position: 18.19 (1st from 222)

Parkruns are not races, but 'timed runs', of course. That said, I've never finished first at Chester in seven attempts (although I've been second on numerous occasions) so it was nice to change that today. I thought it would be prudent to sandwich a quick speed session in to the middle of my slow-paced, mountain-dominated Icelandic and French trips. I felt reasonably good, although still over 20 seconds down on my best for the course (which has changed slightly post-covid). Some close competition but I managed to pull away towards the end of the second lap.

Esja

Peaks: Thverfellshorn (840m)

Area: Esja, Iceland

Very different in tone from everything else I did in Iceland, Esja feels like what it is: a popular hill on the edge of a large urban area. Reykjavik is clearly visible from most of the route, which is a standard, much-travelled loop up to the viewpoint of Stein and then down the far side of a gentle river valley, Grensoxl. Esja is actually a giant plateau, and the mist peeled spectacularly away from the pinnacles on the rocky coastal facing side as I approached the car park. The trade route to Stein is up a huge path, and felt more like something from the Peak District or perhaps the West Highland Way than my outings in the rest of Iceland. Stein represents a crossing of the paths, and most of Reykjavik is visible far below. An extension exists, however, and it is a good way to get up to sample the Esja plateau proper. The path is steeper up to a rock band, and then a chained (very mild) scramble traverses the rocks rightwards to gain a 'korean-style' ascent, up metal steps and the like, to the forepeak of Thverfellshorn (my laptop can't do the special Icelandic character this peak begins with). This is raised above the rest of the plateau, and was engulfed with mist by the time I got there. Again, it felt like home: I could have been on Carnedd Dafydd. I took the chains back to Stein and then ran down at a decent pace in warm sunshine - 1.26 for the entire outing. This gave me ample time to drive to Gardur at the end of the Reykjanes peninsula for stunning views of breaching humpback whales, and lots of birds.

Hafnarfjall

Peaks: Hafnarfjall (844m), Gildalshnjukur (c900m), Katlapufa (c860m)

Area: Borgarnes, Iceland

Hafnarfjall dominates Borgarnes, where I had camped after Baula. It is a classic 'signature peak', a constant presence and a fundamental part of the town's identity. It is obvious, however, that it is a collection of summits, not just one, so I was eager to see how that might unfold as I set off up the obvious marked path from the other side of the bridge across the fjord from the narrow isthmus the town is built on. The route was superb, and follows the very vague 'ridge' that climbs up towards the right-hand summit when looking from the town. There are impressive cliffs on one side, plunging down to the ring-road and the fjord. To the left, a shallow cwm full of scree. The path reaches an obvious col, after which the route turns right (north) to the summit of Hafnarfjall. This was all great, and took 52 minutes, but it was obvious that this was not the true summit of the mountain. The real peak rose from the other side of the col, so I retraced steps and took the much smaller, unmarked path through some rocks to a brilliant continuation ridge which led quite quickly to the highpoint. At the cafe which faces the mountain later that morning, a labelled painting of the peaks revealed that this is actually called Gildalshnjukur - although the map that strava generated was completely inaccurate in terms of contours and heights (as it was in most of Iceland). If Hafnarfjall is 844m, the higher peak must be around 900m, although I can't confirm this either - all rather strange. Regardless, it was a beautiful main summit, with milky cloud and soft sunshine lending definition to fantastic views. These stretched to distant Snaefellsness peninsula, and across to Esja and other snowy peaks, but also down to Borgarnes and its fjord. The continuation to the sharp, shapely peak of Katlapufa was even better, rocky in places with some very mild scrambling. Back the same way, jogging, and into the wonderful Geirabakari cafe that has panoramic views of the peak across the fjord for coffee and cake. Even better, next came the ultimate relaxation in the hot tubs of the town's swimming pool, welcome relief for tired muscles.

Baula

Peaks: Baula (934m)

Area: Borgarfjordur, Iceland

An iconic feature of the west Iceland landscape, Baula is almost the perfect pyramidal peak. It dominates its surroundings and is a compelling objective, often considered the most beautiful mountain in Iceland. Sadly, on closer inspection it proves to be a pile of unstable poised blocks and scree, but I didn't know that as I headed towards it in ever-improving weather. It had been cloudy but dry in Oxnaladur this morning, but the cloud broke as I headed south-west, to the point that by Hvammstangi (where I took a short deliberate detour), the sky was a brilliant blue. I left the ring-road for Baula, but it took some time to work out a likely starting point for the mountain (I had very little information). The broad west 'ridge' looked the most likely route of ascent and I located a track which led to its base. This worked to an extent, but it was arduous and pathless higher up, and I took a little gorge to ease progress. This felt more like Provence for a while - white rock, warm temperatures, dazzling sunshine, azure sky! It was by far the best weather of the trip. Eventually I gained the base of the 'cone' and started upwards, finding the terrain very demanding by any standards. Never remotely exposed, just arduous and tedious as I fought my way upwards through giant boulder fields - again, reminiscent of the 'clapier' fields of the Maritime Alps. Half way up, I found a very vague path which eased progress just a tad, and the angle did ease towards the summit - after which there is a short, but superb, ridge that curves around the very steep northern/eastern side of the mountain to gain the summit. Immense views in all directions, a reflection of its isolaion, and perfect clarity of light. As is often the case on these sorts of mountains, it is easier to spot better lines in descent, and Baula was no exception. I took a more southerly line, evidence of previous traffic, and - although still arduous and loose - it was easier and I gained the base of the cone fairly quickly. The grass lower down was a relief, and it was still sunny as I got back to the car on the Vestfjardavegur.

Hraunvatn/Stapar

Sunday was a washout. It really was a good job I had checked the forecast as upwards movement was practically impossible. I took in the crater of Hverfjall in full wet weather gear (howling gale, horizontal rain) before retreating to the volcanic pillars of Dimmoburgir, a sensible sheltered choice which gave some relief with a 4k walking loop through the formations (and it had a warm cafe above the car park). I managed to locate the Myvatn speciality of Barrow's goldeneye at the nearby Hofoi (where volcanic pillars stand in the water of the lake) but failed to find the other speciality, harlequin duck, coming close to 'birding hypothermia' as I doggedly scanned the Laxa river outflow in truly abysmal conditions. The weather was so bad in Akureyri that I barely left the van, and woke this morning to snow plastering all the peaks above the town that I had intended to ascend this morning. With trail running shoes, this seemed unwise so I reluctantly abandoned my plans and continued along the ring road, hoping for an opportunity to get amongst the scenery and pinpointing Oxnadalur as a likely option. I quickly reached it and it exceeded my expectations, a wonderful valley and the epitome of wild northern Icelandic scenery. I stopped for breakfast below the farms that provide scale for the incredible pinnacle of Hraundrangi which rises above. Higher up, I parked, and took the track to the old farm of Hraun (lots of literary links with the valley, which is widely celebrated). A small path led upwards, so I followed it, wondering if I might make a speculative attempt on the beautiful mountain rising from an obvious long ridge, which turned out to be Heidarfjall. The path led upwards to an awkward rocky section and shallow gorge, above which was a small lake with a great northern diver in full breeding plumage. Above this, and the hypnotically beautiful upper valley is breached, an utterly magical secluded location with an indescribable ambience, completely hidden from below. The stunning lake of Hraunvatn dominates the valley floor with steep mountain sides all around. A tiny path led onwards towards the long ridge up the dominant peak, so I followed it. Grassy at first, it soon led to a rockier section, narrow but not very exposed. This was wonderful, stunning views down to the lake and across to Fagranesfjell and other peaks to the east. Above the ridge steepened to what would be called a gendarme if it was in the Alps. Here, mountain judgment kicked in and I retreated. I made a few abortive attempts to circumvent it, getting higher up the valley, before retreating - not sad at all, just glad to be up here and exercising a bit of experience! I descended down to the viewpoint of Stapar, a little hill with a cairn and just sat enjoying this magical place, perhaps the most memorable of all the locations I visited in Iceland (and that is up against very, very stiff competition). The opposing ridge to the pinnacle of Hraundrangi dominated, but it was the general atmosphere that was genuinely hard to leave. I did, eventually, disturbing an angry ptarmigan en route.

Hlidarfjall

Peaks: Hlidarfjall (771m)

Area: Myvatn, Iceland

After a very long day, my arrival at the wonderful campsite of Bjarg, right on the shores of Myvatn, was a delight - slavonian grebe and red-necked phalarope dabbling around right next to the van. After Graenafell, I had eaten skyr on the edge of the highlands in a wonderful lonely location before descending into the magnificant volcanic landscape around Hverir. Here I took the loop of the boiling, sulphurous craters and went up to the Namarfjall (500m) highpoint with views over the lake and across to the impressive cone-like peak of Hildarfjell. It seemed essential to go up it tomorrow morning (when I planned a more relaxing day) but I thought I should just check the weather first, despite the fact that it had improved to a lovely evening of milky sunshine here in the far north. A sudden change of plan, and action stations, when I realised the forecast for tomorrow was grim. So it was on with the running gear and an attempt to find the route up Hlidarfjall from the lake. This took some time, but it didn't really matter given the constant daylight. That said, I still took a running approach as I wanted my evening meal and a shower! Hlidarfjall is a perfect cone from lower down, although becomes bulkier along the approach, which was lengthy and characterised my very noisy breeding whimbrels (and a few godwit) who seemed distressed by my presence. I trod lightly, and eventually gained the peak itself, taking a direct route up to gain steep and tiring scree which led eventually to a vague col and then easier going up a broad, rocky ridge to the summit. Superb views over Krafla's spectacular volcanic landscape on one side, and all of Myvatn on the other. Sadly, light mist obscured some of it and the weather already seemed to be turning. A cautious descent of the scree cone, then I opened up a bit for the track leading back to Reykjahlio and Bjarn by 8.30pm, for a welcome sulphurous shower and my Icelandic staple meal of 'pocket rocket fishy noodles' before turning in.

Graenafell

Peaks: Graenafell (630m)

Area: Reydarfjordur, Iceland

Stunning though the ringroad scenery was, and supremely enjoyable, I was always fighting the urge to get into it, and off the beaten track. Given time constraints, options were limited, but after leaving Hofn this morning I did have a few vague plans. Initially (after a peaceful breakfast near Sefdalur, then seabird watching at Almannaskard) I parked near the tunnel beyond Budir and took the marked path into the empty and wonderful looking valley to the west. Sadly, a bridge was down and it was impossible to continue up the valley (confirmed by a chat with the farmer's wife!). No matter, I continued the drive and parked instead west of Reydarfjordur at the top of an obvious pass. Again, superb mountain scenery on all sides. The weather was dry but cloudy and somewhat threatening. Graenafell was an ideal way to get amongst it all, a small but pronounced hill surrounded by bigger mountains. Steep slopes led from the windy pass to boggy moorland and a desolate lake (Graenavatn) with golden plover. Then, rockier and drier terrain led to the summit and great views over Reydarfjordur (and a bench for sitting on!). Easy jogged descent, less than an hour for the outing. Then, the journey continued to Eggilstadir then up for a taste of the highlands before descending to Myvatn.

Skaftafell loop

Peaks: Fremrihnaukur (610m), Kristinartindar (1126m)

Area: Skaftafell, Iceland

A fairly unstable day weatherwise after landing in Keflavik fairly early yesterday, with some heavy showers and cold wind. This limited me to short trips above the famous waterfall of Skogafoss, and a windy hike up Rejnasfell above Vik, where I stayed the night in the campground. Skaftafell was always scheduled to be the big day, however, and fortunately this, the second day, dawned clear and dry. With constant daylight I was in no great rush, and first left the ring road to take in the gorge of Fjadrarglijufur. This was magical in the early morning, and I had it completely to myself. Skaftafell was unsurprisingly a lot busier, rammed with global tourists, but I suspected they would disappear within minutes of leaving the car park. This was indeed the case, in fact once I was above the famous basalt column waterfall of Svartifoss (far from Iceland's most impressive, but one of the most photographed!) I was entirely alone. The route climbs fairly gently through low vegetation to gain an open moor at Sjonarskur, as the views open out across to Kalfafell, the angular mountain of Lomagnapur, and the awe-inspiringly bleak 'sandur' - vast glacial deposits that create a 50km section of utterly barren wilderness where the icecaps meet the Atlantic. It was, predictably enough, pretty special, and the day continued in that vein. An easy climb gained the rounded forepeak of Femrihnaukur with superb views up towards the high glacier of Morsardalur. I began to catch up with some early starters (not many) across a couple of neve fields to gain the upper cwm, surrounded by peaks. Steep scree led to a pronounced col and a stunning view across Skaftafellsjokull, the main glacier. Mist was flirting with the higher peaks, totally engulfing the Icelandic highpoint of Hvannadalshnukur. It was pretty cold, and the meat of the day came next, with a rather loose scramble up the south ridge. This was almost alpine in tone, not especially exposed but rather loose, particularly in an open gully that I took in error. At the top, it eased to a pleasant ridge and a snowfield. Mist was flirting with the summit, a very atmospheric place with plunging views to glaciated valleys in all directions. I descended cautiously, avoiding the gully, and had a snack at the col as the mist lowered a tad. An easy descent down the screes in the cwm led back to the main circular path. This leads east to the stunning viewpoint of Glama, poised above magnificent Skaftafelljsjokul, itself part of the enormous Vatnajokull icecap, Europe's biggest. The scale and magnificence of the scenery was breath-taking (not a cliche I use lightly). Far more people now, as I continued along the marked path to Sjonarnipa, looking out over the icebergs calving off the end of the glacier and the vast sandur plains beyond. A final descent through birch woodland added a varied final note to an exceptional 4+ hour outing. After some much-needed food at the visitor centre, watching a heavy shower approach over the mountains, the day continued in extraordinarily memorable fashion. I explored Jokulsarlon thoroughly (Fjallsarlon too, in some ways even better) watching the icebergs that have been calved off the Vatnajokull icecap drift slowly into the Atlantic from the glacial lagoon - stunning. By the time I arrived in Hofn, bright sunshine returned and I had a snack overlooking Sudhurdfjordur before getting an elevated spot at the campground. A truly memorable day.

Wobbler

Race: Robbie Webster's Wobbler

Time/Position: 43.58 (13th from 100 [1st V50])

A tropical deluge made this more memorable than expected, strangely echoing the last time I did the race a few years ago, when heavy summer rain rendered the start a bit of a quagmire. This time I was handicapped by snapped elastic on an old pair of shorts, meaning I had to hold them up like a soiled nappy. This was really annoying, to the point that I couldn't really open up (although it is an unusably stupid excuse). I felt fairly good, and wasn't too far down on previous times for the race, despite the wet nappy. Some good competition, although I was beaten by faster finishers before the finale on Beacon Hill above Frodsham.

Deganwy Dash

Race: Deganwy Dash (5m)

Time/Position: 28.58 (5th from 255 [1st V50])

A hint of rain and a southerly breeze this evening, my first time at this nice race. It is similar to the Conwy parkrun, although it heads south from Deganwy prom along the estuary using the gravel bike paths, uneven in places. As such, despite its flatness it is never going to be the fastest course, and the twisty bridge adds to this. I really enjoyed the race, felt fairly good, and found myself pushing the pace with a couple of others until pulling away a little on the return leg (it heads to the RSPB reserve, then returns). A short bike ride back to Hod and the Albion.

Tattenhall Tough Team

Race: Tattenhall Tough Team

Time/Position: 1.03.56 (4th from 222 [2nd Team/1st Vet Team])

This has long been one of my favourite events, sadly missed over the last couple of years. The team element makes it great, and a nice complement to the castles relays last Sunday. I've found myself in various combos over the years, and this year our trio was me, Jez and Richard Shearer - a combined aged of 155, so very comfortably competing in the vet category! On the long road haul out to Burwardsley, we kept a good steady pace going, letting our younger Buckley rivals streak ahead, along with some other quick teams. It seemed to me that we were comfortably first vets, so we just knocked the pace back a bit for the draining tarmac up to the Pheasant. The off-road section follows, with the sharp climb up to the Sandstone Trail before great running down the sandy paths to the start of the Railway, very possibly the most notorious local climb of all, much harder than the dreaded gully on my Hotfoot race. Looking up, I could only see one team ahead: that seemed odd, but at this stage I wasn't sure where we were in the field. The 'railway' is a misnomer: it is actually an incline that gets ludicrously steep at the top, where the grim reaper helps runners up the final step. Rich slipped back a bit, but recovered remarkably for the next section which leads to the fields back down to Burwardsley. These were far more overgrown than normal, but we stayed in our trio, which is what the race is all about (and doesn't often happen). Once we hit the road, we pulled away and it became apparent we were in second place overall. Our Buckley rivals had taken a wrong turn, as had Vale Royal. Rich and I were matched step for step, and the road run-in was brilliant as a result. Jez slipped behind a little, but we finished in a comfortable second place overall (first veterans), a couple of minutes down on my best time for the course (with Dave and Chris in 2017, although I once broke the hour on the old course). A great evening, and very warm rather than dangerously hot - which was what the forecast was warning.

Llithrig-Helgi

Peaks: Pen Llithrig y Wrach, Pen yr Helgi Du

Area: Carneddau, Eryri

A beautiful evening building, but this was perforce a short outing from Capel Curig - after a short 3k burst from Pensarn by way of inadequate speedwork in the morning. I took the standard path on the right after a short run up the A5. This traverses the hillside before heading up, fairly gradually, towards Cowlyd. It tends to be a bit boggy in places, and was today. Towards the Cowlyd outflow, Llithrig rises and the climb becomes steep and hard. I reached the top in 47 minutes from the A5, not too bad, and was rewarded by superb views as the sun came out in earnest. Particularly good down to Cowlyd and Cwm Eigiau, and up into the jaws of Ogwen, one of the best views of the valley. Linking Llithrig and Helgi Du is always enjoyable, and I kept a decent pace going to make the link in 16 minutes or so. From the summit of Helgi Du, superb views to Craig yr Ysfa and Llewellyn but not long to enjoy them. I descended down Y Braich, the long, broad, grassy and eminently runnable ridge that heads from the summit of Helgi Du in a beeline to Ogwen. Years, perhaps decades, since I last did this: it takes 12-13 minutes to the path junction just above the farms. A rather unfortunate finish down the A5 back to Capel, but I was pushed for time (1.50 for the outing).

Welsh Castles Relay (Builth-Drovers)

Race: Builth-Drover's Arms (Welsh Castles Relay, Stage 14)

Time/Position: 1.15.09 (22nd from 55)

This must be the hardest leg of the 20 stage Castles Relay. I did stage 11 from Newtown to Llanbadarn a few years ago, which climbs continuously for most of its length but is not as tough. What makes this stage so hard is the fact that it involves an undulating 10k first, with some short but sharp hills, and only then does it embark on a 5k+ climb straight up Mynydd Eppynt. This was my worst finishing position in the three legs I have done in the relays, by some distance, but I'm not too disheartened as it really did seem a particularly strong field, with lots of the bigger clubs putting their stronger runners out for it (unlike me for Buckley!). The other thing is that the positions were settled relatively early on, and despite what felt like a very slow climb indeed up to Eppynt (I really struggled on it in places) I didn't actually lose places overall. Through Builth, a large group pulled away almost immediately, and then it was a case of keeping a decent pace ticking over through Cilmeri (site of Llewellyn's ambush and death) until the sharp turn to the south at Garth, then over the Irfon, after which the prospects are bleakly obvious. The road on to Eppynt begins to climb immediately, but stays relatively gentle as it kinks left across the hillside. Then comes the crux, straight up the steep road above the Duhonw valley, at a similar draining gradient throughout before it kicks left with one big hairpin just below the summit. My teammates gave some welcome support at this point, a nice boost! After this, a fast downhill section with the iconic Drovers Arms now visible in the distance, but not reached until a final mile long climb. I felt much better for this, however. After a drink, I now had the not-so-simple task of returning to collect my car in Builth. Cross country routes are made difficult by the fact that it is mostly a military range, and the supposed trails seemed barely used (to be fair, they are quite new). So I took the bridleway east near Fron to join the tiny road leading through the Irfon valley back to Builth, often close to the river. I took it very gently, and it was all very pleasant: well over 30k in total. Buckley finished in an excellent 15th place overall.

Deeside ORGP

Race: Deeside Off-Road Grand Prix 4m (Race 1)

Time/Position: 24.52 (5th from 74 [1st V50])

Many years since I last did these races - I think I completed the series in 2013, but have never been back. The event now takes a really good four mile giant lap, along the Dee to the tortuous loop of the meadows near Shotton, then back to the banks of the Dee for a long haul towards Queensferry bridge and back along the flood defences. Flat as a pancake, which was fortunate after last night's effort, which I still felt in my legs.

Up the Beast fell race

Race: Up the Beast (7.5k/480m)

Time/Position: 42.22 (7th from 88 [1st V50])

Probably the race I've done most often, 12 or 13 times, almost every one since its launch. Another personal worst, but given the many route changes over the years that is not too concerning, and I wasn't too disastrously far off my previous times for the event. It is always a tricky one to pace, as the temptation is to go hard for the first lumpy section through the woods. That is exactly what I did, and paid for it on the first steep climb, up the 'Beast' itself. You do get to recover a bit through the crags, however, and actually I don't think I was too far off my normal pace for this, or the next airless climb. The grass was longer than normal, which is tiring in itself, and I found myself fairly isolated in 6th place. The time was really lost in the last section through the woods, where I struggled (worse than normal) and slowed considerably. Some other runners missed a few of the arrows leading to a certain amount of confusion at the finish, although I did win my category.

Arrochar Alps

Peaks: The Cobbler (Central and North), Beinn Narnain

Area: Arrochar Alps, Scotland

The Cobbler is one of Scotland's most recognisable peaks. Its profile always puts me in mind of the Watzmann in Bavaria. We did the full traverse of that famous icon of the eastern Alps in poor weather in 2017, an indelible memory. By contrast, the Cobbler is tiny and inconsequential, but it does have similar legends attached and a remarkably similar profile! I left the camp in Glen Etive fairly early, the intention being to break the journey home at the Arrochar Alps, which I'd never visited before - another one of those southern Highland gaps this mini-break was intended to fill. The weather was stunning, banks of fog through Rannoch Moor breaking to crystal clear cloudless sunshine: an amazing day in prospect. I parked by the shores of Loch Long near Succoth and began to lengthy zigzags through the woods which lead up to the Allt a'Bhalachain, which babbles down the valley. To the right, Beinn Narnain, and ahead the classic three-peak profile of the Cobbler. I reached the Narnain boulders in 40 minutes or so, then took the steep and scrambly path straight up below the North peak to gain the main ridge. Then it was straight up to the central and highest summit, which is topped by a large pinnacle. The tricky nature of the scramble up this means it is arguably the hardest summit in mainland Britain to reach. I imagine it gets busy too, but I was so early I did it immediately. It involves crawling through a hole in the rock, 'threading the needle', to gain a fairly exposed ledge on the far side. Then it is just one, perhaps two, actual scrambling moves to climb up to the summit. All good fun, after which I had a snack on the grassy slopes nearby, before jogging over the easier North summit, which is gained via shallow rocky slabs. Superb views, with Arran and the Paps of Jura clearly visible, and Ben Lomond impressive. Steps lead down to the Bealach a'Mhaim, from where I continued the day to take in Beinn Narnain, again a far more interesting peak than I had anticipated. Steps and paths led fairly quickly to the broad summit of Narnain, and more excellent views across the southern Highlands. I descended off the eastern ridge, not expecting much but finding a remarkably long and continually interesting descent. It goes initially over the craggy spearhead buttress, then weaves down through various rocky outcrops to a more level, grassy section. All the while, superbly clear views in glorious sunshine. Steps then lead to a boggy and rocky direct final descent straight back to the lochside car park, then the drive home.

Etive peaks

Peaks: Ben Starav, Stob Coire Dhearg, Glas Bheinn Mhor, Meall na Tri Tighearean, Stob Coir'an Albannaich

Area: Glen Etive, Scotland

Three wonderfully contrasting mountains. Although it had been fun filling in the obvious southern Highland gaps, I also felt the need for a proper Highland dose, as the year is not complete without it. If I'd had more time, I would have headed up to the north-west again, but felt that - given the constraints - the bottom end of Glen Etive would offer what I was seeking. Ben Starav was an obvious gap that I'd missed in the past, a superb mountain that looks every inch of its height as it rises from what is, after all, a sea loch. I found it difficult to park after a longish drive from Strathyre, despite the fact that the bottom of Glen Etive is actually a pretty remote place. I have been down the glen a long time ago, the late 80s probably, but not all the way down. It is now a rather busy place, but all that is left behind after the river is crossed at Coiletir and the NE ridge of Starav begun (after a very boggy low-level trudge westwards). The ridge is relentless, 1000m of virtually continuous ascent. I quite enjoyed it, though, and was glad I hadn't pushed the boat out too far yesterday. The views just get better and better and the cloud began to break too. Indeed, the view across the valley to pyramidal Glas Bheinn Mhor and the plateau-like Albannaich was really striking. In addition, the entire length of Glen Etive up to the 'Buachailles' is also a very famous view. Towards the top, a rocky ridge gives a little basic scrambling, reminiscent of the Gribin. The panorama from the summit is superb: a particularly brilliant view of Ben Cruachan (which I did in 2003) and down the loch to the coast. A fabulous array of peaks inland to Ben Nevis and beyond. Rum visible, bringing back memories of my wonderful day there last July. Fluffy clouds and bright sunshine, absolutely wonderful, and the mouth-watering prospect of the ridge to Glas Bheinn Mhor, with most of the really hard work done after dispatching the NE ridge. Starav is a giant tent-like peak, and an easy trot leads to the other 'summit', before a great, quite narrow ridge leads to the subpeak of Stob Coire Dhearg. This was superb in the sunshine, and followed by a steep descent above a craggy cwm to the pronounced Bealach Ghianheamaich. The continuation of the ridge is much more grassy, but also quite steep: first up to the top of Meall na Tri Tighearean, then rather tiringly to the summit of Glas Bheinn Mhor, another fine but contrasting peak - classically pyramidal and grassy, a perfect counterpoint to Ben Starav. The descent is rockier, down to the very obvious bealach below Stob Coire Albannaich. It had clouded over, and rain was threatening, but after a very welcome drink from the stream and a snack, I ploughed up the steep initial climb to gain the large gently sloping plateau which leads, rather confusingly, to a final broad ridge and the summit of Albannaich. This is another contrast, a long hill with a fabulous view over the Blackmount peaks. A gigantic black cloud swept in from the east as I was climbing - it was obvious I was going to get wet, so I tried to outrun it, pelting down towards Beinn Chaorach. The route was very indistinct, and the rain caught me quite quickly despite the speed of my descent on perfect springy turf. I should have continued over Chaorach but instead dropped down the extremely steep slopes leading to the Robber's Waterfall. This was wet, tussocky and as steep as it looked from above (and below). Eventually I gained the bottom of the valley and the rain passed, drying me out after a real drenching. Sunshine for the return to the car, after which I camped in an idyllic spot further up Glen Etive. An excellent river bath, mackerel and rice, and a tiny dram made for a delightful evening with views up to Creise and beyond.

Ben Lawers/Tarmachan Ridge

Peaks: Meall Corranaich, Ben Lawers, Beinn Ghlas, Meall nan Tarmachan, Meall Garbh

Area: Lawers/Tarmachan, Scotland

My intention was to do the entire Lawers range from the north, but sadly the road across the top was closed so I had to change my plans: no matter, this was still a delightful day. The Lawers range is a little like Ben Lomond for me, something I have ignored for years fearing big crowds and boring slogs. So I was pleasantly surprised by the entire area, after driving up from my hotel in Strathyre through Killin. The lower slopes have been managed and sealed off from the deer, so the vegetation has regenerated, leaving wonderful birch woodland full of redpoll and cuckoo. I really enjoyed it, and set off under blue skies through the birch to gain the open hill at a crossroads. I followed the gentle straight path up to the obvious Bealach, opting to do Meall Corranaich first. This was a good choice, with wonderful views over Ben Lawers and An Stuc, as well as the empty country north, from the col. A steep climb gained the summit of Corranaich (63m from the car) which I had to myself (despite dozens heading up Ben Lawers on this, the first day of the Jubilee long weekend). Great views in all directions. A quick jog down, then the superbly enjoyable contouring path below Beinn Ghlas to the obvious col. I felt quite good, and ploughed up the final steep climb to the summit in good time. The day had clouded over a bit, but the views in all directions were predictably superb - the ridge down to An Stuc with Lochan an Cat below looked superb and I regretted not being able to see through my original plan. But a different plan was forming, so after a rest and snack on the summit I pelted across to Bheinn Ghlas in 22 minutes, then down to the car from the summit of Ghlas in 38m. It started to rain just before I got there, and then pelted down for half an hour. After it stopped, I got the stove on, had some rice, tuna and coffee, and initiated the second part of the day, an impromptu change of plan. On the other side of the road rises the Tarmachan ridge: this is very eye-catching from Killin, a lumpy and attractive miniature range. Quite how lumpy and attractive, however, I hadn't realised. It was a delight. I was conscious of not burning all my matches at this stage in the trip, so dropped the pace right down to a walk up to the munro of Meall nan Tarmachan. The path leaves the scented birch woodland and then gains a broad ridge over a pronounced subpeak before a steep shelf twists round to the summit: great views back across this morning's peaks and down to Loch Tay. From here, prospects are wonderful: the knobbly ridge stretched out in front like a miniature mountain range, dotted with little lochans and crags. Meall Garbh attracts the attention with its sharp peak, and I sauntered along the ridge through the lochans before taking in the steep little climb to the tiny summit. Much as I loved this ridge, I was conscious of saving a bit of energy, so escaped down the obvious western ridge: this was also excellent, with Loch Tay stretched out in front and the sun re-emerging. A long walk down the track back to the car, then a desperate refuel on a revolting burger and chips in Killin.

Ben Lomond

Peaks: Ben Lomond

Area: Trossachs, Scotland

In 33 years of Highland visits, I've always avoided this famous and popular peak, the most southerly munro. This is partly because of that popularity (I prefer my hills empty) but also because it is actually quite tricky to reach from the south: not really 'on the way' anywhere. It worked perfectly this afternoon, however. I drove up in the morning and was drinking coffee in Dumbarton not much more than four hours later. A windy drive south around Loch Lomond (the contrast between the loch's north and south side is always fascinating, this southern end is reminiscent of southern England, pastoral farmland). I'd never driven up the eastern shore before, and set off up the standard tourist path from Rowardennan at mid-afternoon. High cloud and warm temperatures, with the day improving and hints of sunshine. The path, very well travelled, curves round fairly gently up to an obvious steeper rise towards a vague plateau. A short level section and then a final climb curving round to the summit ridge: 1.13 at a steady, fairly relaxed pace, I didn't want to spend too much energy for obvious reasons. The view from Lomond is superb, genuinely panoramic as a result of its location right on the edge of the Highlands. Gentle flatlands to the south, then a vast panorama up to Cruachan, Lui and Ben Nevis. The Arrochar hills are particularly impressive from this angle, and I intended to take some of them in on Friday. I descended the more direct route over the subpeak known as Ptarmigan: this was a pleasant surprise, enjoyable and interesting, twisting over little lumps and hummocks with superb views down to Loch Lomond and across to the Cobbler's distinctive profile. Lower down, grassy slopes lead to boggier sections and a long haul back to the lakeside and car. It might have been better to do this the other way round, but it was still a lovely start to the trip. An easy drive to a fish supper in Callander, looking out at Ben Ledi from the little lake in town.

Prestatyn parkrun

'Race': Nova Prestatyn parkrun

Time/Position: 18.47 (4th from 87 [1st V50])

I've struggled along the Ffrith prom into headwinds on various occasions in the past: it used to feature in the border league and other races from Rhyl. Bracing conditions this morning, with a brisk crosswind, high tides and bright sunshine. Morgan was making his debut at parkrun, and indeed any kind of running event, and did superbly well. It is a nice course, fast down the prom towards Rhyl with waves crashing, then a tough off-road section through the dunes. This is a mixture of gravel, soft sandy paths and tussocks, before a very fast second half back east to the OD monument. I finished 1 second inside the V50 course record.

Moelwynion from Croesor

Peaks: Cnicht, Moelwyn Mawr, Craigysgafn, Moelwyn Bach

Area: Moelwynion, Eryri

Croesor is a special place, but it is very awkward to access from the east, which accounts for the fact that I have only visited a handful of times. One of those was for Ras y Cnicht, a classic short race which goes straight up from the village. I ran this in 46 minutes in 2017, so did a kind of time-trial for the climb today, before embarking on a much slower loop round the Moelwynion. This is a superb circuit, which I think I did as a hillwalk in the early 90s. Cuckoo calling for the plod up the bridleway, and then the open hill is gained at a fork with wonderful views over the estuary. I was probably last here on the early stages of our sea-to-sea epic in 2019. Most of the early stages are runnable until a scree covered traverse leads to a grassy ridge before the final steep cone which culminates in a scrambly groove just below the summit - which I reached in 31.50, I would guess just over a minute slower than the 2017 race. From here, I pondered the Paddy direct descent but instead opted for the easier ground leading to the head of the valley containing Llyn Cwm y Foel. Over the stream, then up the complex terrain leading to the two lakes of Llynnau Diffwys (it is probably better to contour north higher up than this). Boggy ground then leads to Rhosydd quarry, with the sun now out and a bright and breezy afternoon developing (I didn't start from Croesor until 2.30pm). From the quarry workings, I took the southerly ridge up Moelwyn Mawr. This is quite lengthy, and quite tiring, but really enjoyable. Then comes the crux of Ras y Moelwyn, a famous race I have done twice: over rocky Craigysgafn to the col, then steeply up to Moelwyn Bach. This ridge is so obvious from Blaenau: there are racing lines but I have never really found them, in fact in 2019 thick mist made this section quite tricky. It took me a rather plodding 16 minutes today, cutting my hand on the rocky section. It is awkward and rocky until the col is reached. From the summit of Bach, superb views down to Porthmadog and the Rhinogydd, and these continued for the superb grassy descent down the western ridge of Moelwyn Bach. All very comfortable and runnable until the boggy base of the cwm, but by then you are close to the minor road that leads north-west back to Croesor. Just over two hours for the circuit.

Chester parkrun

'Race': Chester parkrun

Time/Position: 18.58 (4th from 299 [1st V50])

I felt tired coming into this, not too surprisingly, so just settled for a perfunctory plod round the summer route, a minute down on my course PB. A very large field made for tricky manoeuvres on the second lap across the meadows.

Pot Hole climbing

Crag: Pot Hole Quarry

Routes: Mestre (S), Sesto (S), Selva (VS), Un-aided (VS)

No climbing for a year, so 'rusty' would be an understatement. This was a short top-roping session on routes climbed scores of times before at the old venue, which seems to get more awkward and polished with every passing year.

Wirral MTC

Race: Wirral Multi-Terrain Challenge (6m)

Time/Position: 39.05 (8th from 174 [1st V50])

Yet another 'personal worst', although there were contextual factors at play this evening. First, the Sandstone Trail was still in my legs (although I felt reasonably good after a rest). Second, there was a nasty cross-headwind for the arduous rocky beach section south from Thurstaston which really drained the tank before the race leaves the Dee estuary and reaches the shelter of the Heswall Dales. This gave me a bit of a problem, and I really struggled to get my HR down for a while, losing several places (I was 3rd for a while on the beach). I have done this race twice before, and it is always a challenge to pace, genuinely multi-terrain with a constant danger of blowing on the different sections. The Dales are hilly and twisting XC terrain with steep steps and drops. Eventually, the race emerges onto the pan-flat Wirral Way, and luckily I regained my composure and had a reasonably quick run-in. Well down on my best time for this great course (which was 2014 I think) but not bad in the circumstances, and I did win my age category.

Sandstone Trail Challenge

'Race': Sandstone Trail (54k/1100m)

Time/Position: 5.34 (12th from 150)

My second time at this memorable event, and it went exactly as I expected it to: that is, slowly. The last time I did it, in 2018, I was focused almost entirely on distance, completing the British ultra series that year. As such, I came into the Trail quite confident, and even had a road marathon in my legs - the 5.08 I ran that year was enough for 5th place. This year, I didn't even think about getting close to that, and approached it in the way it was intended: a 'challenge' rather than a race. I knew I would be fine up to 20 miles or perhaps a little more, but also knew there was no point pushing it because the last 10 miles or so would be just a walk. This is exactly what happened. We started in glorious morning sunshine in Whitchurch after the long coach journey from Frodsham, and I just kept a steady pace churning over for the first 10 miles or so, which are all easy and gentle, on canal paths and tranquil fields. It curves round to the north via Grindley Brook and No Man's Heath. The ground finally begins to rise at Bickerton Hill, where the route joins the 17 mile Sandstone race route. It becomes a lot more challenging at this point, but the sharp climbs never last long and I thoroughly enjoyed myself, completely alone and jogging along in the warm sunshine. From Gallantry Bank, the highpoint at Rawhead is reached with superb views west across the plain to the Clwydians. Then comes the very familiar section along the ridge above Burwardsley and the Pheasant to Beeston Castle: dozens of family walks along this section, and a very welcome checkpoint (there are five in total, all with plenty of food and drink). After Beeston a small group of three formed for the endless plodding across dozens of fields, the scene of my embarrassing error last October. This was probably the crux of the day for me, as I reached the end of my current mileage limit. I knew very well that this would happen, and was prepared for it (this was my 13th or 14th ultra, if it can be counted as such). So, from Willington I just plodded and enjoyed the ambience, knowing there was no chance of matching my 2018 time. The route from here to the finish is very familiar, so I had no concerns about missing a turning. It got very hot at this point, and I was glad of the shade through Gresty's Waste and Delamere. The end is in sight from this point, and a very welcome checkpoint at Manley helps. I revived slightly for the section I know best of all, from Alvanley cliff over to the climax at Beacon Hill above Frodsham. A hobbling descent to finish in Frodsham 25 minutes slower than 2018.

Birkenhead Park 4m+

Race: Birkenhead Park 4m+ (Border League, race 7)

Time/Position: 23.26 (38th from 252 [2nd V50])

The concluding fixture of a very enjoyable season, my 16th in the league since my debut in 2005 - although not all of those were 'complete' (83 BL races in total). I have only ever won my age category overall once before, so it was nice to add to that, and complete the '21-'22 set alongside the North Wales cross-country league and the Wirral MT series in September. I'm under no illusions, there are far quicker people regionally in the category, but it is also at least partly to do with consistency and appearances. This final fixture only became possible at that last minute, and took in three clockwise laps of Birkenhead Park, the opposite to the usual fixture here and apparently similar to the parkrun (which I've never done). I set off pretty fast and enjoyed the loop round the familiar ponds before a longer drag up to the main gates: the pace was nothing to write home about but it was another acceptable performance which kept my points score reasonably low. In the end I finished the season 82 points ahead of second place in the category.

Ras Moel Eilio

Race: Moel Eilio (12.8k/940m)

Time/Position: 1.25.02 (16th from 70 [1st V50])

A sharp contrast with the last time I did this race, a long established Welsh classic. In 2014, howling gales and torrential rain turned the crossing of the ridge into a real battle. So I thought I was guaranteed a course PB today, in perfect conditions with a light tailwind and hundreds of inter-counties runners (on a shorter course) increasing the pace along the ridge. The recent pattern has seen me slightly down on my best times for oft-run races but I really felt that wouldn't happen today for all those reasons. Annoyingly, however, yet again I found myself almost three minutes down on that 2014 time, leaving me wondering (in vain) if the course has changed! Having said all that, this was a wonderful day: the view of the runners descending the ridge from Eilio is one of the best in the sport, with the view of Snowdon and Nant Peris providing the backdrop to the runners looping over the grassy but well-defined ridge. I got to the top of Eilio in 33 minutes, then took exactly 16 to run along the whole ridge (over Foel Gron and Goch) down to the Maesgwm (Telegraph) col. This seemed respectable enough, which leads me to wonder about my 2014 time into a fierce headwind in full kit with slight hypothermia. The next section might be the explanation: the climb up Cynghorion is long and draining, and I slowed considerably here. All the inter-counties runners were sprinting for home on their shorter route so we finally got an idea of our positions in the race. The steep descent off Cynghorion has always been notoriously arduous and is now slightly harder with a new fence at the bottom forcing you further left before crossing the valley floor and heading for home along the very fast track. I was surprised to find I'd won my category at the Padarn later on.

Dinas Bran hill race

Race: Dinas Bran (6.9km/380m)

Time/Position: 34.28 (7th from 87 [1st V50])

This was one of the first 'fell' races I ever did, almost 20 years ago. Since then, I've done it a lot and initially felt that this performance was right up there with previous outings. Sadly, that proved not to be the case and was actually my slowest since the race was revived, a minute or even more down on all previous races. Never mind, it felt good and I felt I'd paced it quite well (and it is possible that some short-cuts are no longer possible). The initial Donkey Path from the school is always fairly desperate - horribly steep - and I may have lost time there as I tried to keep pace with fast starting Ian H. I then seemed to go reasonably well up to the castle, I have always walked the steep section at the top and did so today before the usual very fast descent. I found myself pulling away from a few other runners and continued moving (a little) through the field on the second loop to the castle (I remember finding this extraordinarily unnecessary the first time I did the race back in 2003!). A good final descent, castle to school in 5.19.

Red Kite challenge race

Race: Red Kite Half/Welsh Trail Champs (21.7k/780m)

Time/Position: 1.46.29 (17th from 250 [1st V50])

I spent most of 1994 living in a builder's portakabin above Penrhyncoch so have an attachment to this area. I rarely come here though, and this was one of those races I have somehow missed over the years. With the cancellation of Twin Piers, the time was right to change that, and the course suited my current training regime fairly well. I was pretty pleased with the performance, even though it felt very slow initially with much of the climbing concentrated in the first half. The route leaves Devil's Bridge and then climbs gradually up the Merin valley - all very tranquil, typical mid-Wales scenery. From here, it gets tougher, with a steep climb up 'the shoot' followed by more firetracks and trails up to the highpoint near the top of Pen y Garn, around 2000ft up. Wonderful wild scenery and views over the 'Welsh wilderness' to the east, made even better by the superb sweeping descent taking runners down to the Arch, a famous watershed. After this, steep zigzags began to sort the field out a bit, with runners tiring, a sharp climb followed by more very fast descending on superb fire tracks to regain the Merin valley outward route. Then comes a vicious sting in the tail, which it would have been nice to have prior knowledge of! Luckily I managed to get a gel down before a very sharp climb over the little hills east of Devil's Bridge. This was like one of the Tuesday Eryri evening races appended to the end of a tough half marathon, it felt just like a short fell race. Fortunately I had a bit left, so kept a decent pace up the climb before the steep but grassy descent looping back to the finish at the Woodlands campsite. Conditions were good throughout: high milky cloud, not too warm, and dry underfoot with very little recent rainfall.

Foel Fras

Peaks: Drum, Foel Fras

Area: Carneddau, Eryri

A quick blast from the car park below Bwlch y Ddaefaen to the top of Fras and back. A beautiful Spring morning, but with limited time after dropping Kate off I couldn't relax much so just went direct up to the bwlch and then the familiar Drosgl climb, always hard, before 'cutting the corner' to Drum. From here, the usual grassy ascent to an empty Foel Fras summit (46 minutes from the car park). The descent is very rapid, although at the base of the grassy descent from Fras I heard my car key fly out from my supposedly sealed inner pocket. I have always had nightmares about this happening. It was simultaneously unlucky (because the pocket was zipped, it must have found a crevice) and unbelievably lucky (I only heard it because it struck one of the very few stones in the northern Carneddau, the new flags across the bogs below Drum). Searching for it cost me a decent descent time, but I still made the car park in 29 minutes from the summit of Fras. No dotterel: I don't know how many years I have looked for them up here at this time of year, a lot.

Sandstone trail return

Another attempt to get a bit of mileage in my legs on another beautiful April morning. An easterly crosswind kept temperatures comfortable and it was all very pleasant as I set off on the familiar tracks north through Delamere from Gresty's Waste. The idea was to keep a decent pace going until the Sandstone Trail monument (start/finish point) in the middle of Frodsham, feed, then wend my way back slowly via a loop round Tarvin Road. This worked fairly well, although my pace even at the start was nothing to write home about. I always particularly enjoy the section from Alvanley to Beacon Hill, and did so today - all very tranquil in the verdant greenery of spring. A quick descent down to Frodsham, a large serving of chocolate milk, then the loop round back to the Ridgeway and the return leg. Back at Gresty's Waste, I hadn't covered enough ground, so ran slowly down to Willington and back - a fairly hilly section through forest, green lanes and sunken paths - to bring the distance up to 21m or so.

Heslington parkrun

'Race': Heslington parkrun (York)

Time/Position: 17.53 (2nd from 175 [1st V50])

A potentially fast course, five laps of a newish cycle track in the very impressive sports village right next to the university campus we were visiting. It was quite windy, however, and the other issue with five laps on a parkrun is that it gets a bit crowded when trying to overtake! That said, in the spirit of the event (not races, after all), I just kept a decent quick pace ticking over. I was well off the young lad in front, and gradually worked up the field with my usual unspectacular consistency. Surprisingly, I also took the V50 course record by a few short seconds. The event is fairly well established, so this was a surprise. I have taken age group course records on some of our local parkruns in the past but they have never lasted more than a few weeks! As a result of all the weaving and overtaking, I covered 5.1k, so the 3.30/km pace recorded is not too bad for me at present.

Glyderau loop

Peaks: Glyder Fawr, Glyder Fach, Tryfan

Area: Glyderau, Eryri

After last night's superb clarity of light, a perfect morning dawned so I headed up some old favourites, choosing the most direct up Glyder Fawr via the west side of Idwal. I was a little tired after last night's race, but kept a steady pace ticking over below Twll Ddu and up the steep scree to Glyder Fawr. Around 44 minutes to the top from Idwal, a little over 50 from the Cottage. Perfect views in all directions - the view to the Snowdon Horseshoe from Glyder Fawr has always been one of my favourites. It was still early, and I'd beaten the crowds up here so had the ridge to Fach to myself in wonderful weather. I skirted Castell y Gwynt then switched to the north side and plummeted straight down to the Fach screes. These are particularly steep at the top and rather arduous throughout. A few more people around by the time I got to Bwlch Tryfan, from where I took a fairly direct line to the summit. For dessert, I took the direct descent to the road, down the Western Gully and then down the direct ascent I took for the first time earlier this year: this took me 34 minutes to get up in February, but a rather less impressive 16 to get down. I bruised my right buttock at one point - it is all a very steep blend of grass and scree and doesn't really ease until you are virtually back at the road. 

Pen 3 Hills

Race: Pen 3 Hills (2.9m/500m)

Time/Position: 37.27 (17th from 105 [1st V50])

This must be one of the most remarkable races on the calendar. I'd never done it before but had heard tales about the vertical heather and the need for gloves to pull up through the prickles. The statistics tell the story: it is very short, not even close to a 5k, but with well over 1600ft of climbing packed in. The first climb, from Graiglwyd above Penmaenmawr, was familiar and is a standard hard fell race start: a long upward haul up the side of the beautiful valley directly above the village. The conditions and views were stunning: extraordinary clarity of light, the Orme shimmering above a velvet sea. So far, so normal. Then, at the top of the climb, a steepish but still standard descent back down towards the valley further east. Then, a sharp turn and a ludicrously steep climb out of a river gully: this must be one of the steepest climbs on any fell race, hands necessary throughout. At the top, another sharp descent to the east, and then another very steep climb, albeit not quite as steep as the second. After a short easing, a further climb leads up Craig Hafodwen, or its neighbour, before a short heathery section leads towards Moelfre before descending the Graiglwyd path. This is a superb exhilarating climax (a classic descent, which I'd done before) and I managed to hold off those around me to sneak an age category win.

Cadair Idris

Peaks: Craig Cwm Amarch, Pen y Gadair, Mynydd Moel

Area: Cadair Idris, Eryri

Next on Morgan's hit-list of iconic Welsh mountains was Cader. I wanted to do it justice, not settle for the Pony Path, so we made an early start on Easter Saturday, breakfasting en route and getting a parking spot at Minffordd. It has been some time since I did this path, never mind the full horseshoe. I went up to do one of the scrambles perhaps 15 years ago, but it may have been the 90s since I last did the full route from this side. It is certainly one of the best hillwalks in Snowdonia, varied and beautiful. A steep start through the woods initially leads to a levelling and then the lip of Cwm Cau, one of Wales's finest views. This dramatic valley is a famous example of a glaciated landscape and I used to take schoolchildren here when I worked at Rheidol. The tops were still shrouded in mist, but this was beginning to lift and some sunshine peeked through as we took the steep climb to gain the main ridge towards the pyramidal peak of Craig Cwm Amarch. Stunning views across the crags down to Llyn Cau, again among the best in Wales. As we ascended, the mist rose, and after the forepeak we slogged up the rocky terrain to the true summit of Pen y Gadair, quickly putting on extra layers in the hut as the biting easterly hit. M had no issues at all with either the terrain or the fitness demands - good lad. We had lunch gazing down on the Mawddach estuary and across to the Rhinogydd, still some cloud around. Afterwards, we enjoyed the splendid romp along the grassy ridge east to Mynydd Moel. I remember the descent from this as being quite obscure, years ago, but now it is a clear path all the way back to the path junction. Only about 3.20 at a steady walking pace, plenty of time to get back for the cup semi-final. I reckon I first did this exact route at Easter 1989, or perhaps 1990, a year or two younger than Morgan today at exactly the same time of year.

Collie double

I've done a few Collie doubles over the years, but this counts as one of the longer ones. Generally speaking, I append a long loop onto the classic Friday evening route, often a road loop when increasing the mileage (in this case, for the imminent Sandstone Trail, for which I feel undertrained, certainly in terms of distance). This was a Good Friday link-up of the region's finest pubs, starting from the Collie, passing the Druid in Llanferres, then south to Llanarmon yn Ial and the Raven, the down the quiet lanes to Graianrhyd and the Rose and Crown. From here, the delightful Ffordd Cae Newydd heads north over multiple short, sharp hills and eventually passes the Owain Glyndwr above Gwernymynydd. An extra loop over to Gwernaffield and then it was back to the Collie for the Friday classic: 32.5k/900m.

Spring 5

Race: Chester Spring 5

Time/Position: 28.41 (31st from 354 [2nd V50])

I've never particularly liked doing back-to-back races, but at least these two were both short. I would certainly have preferred it the other way round, with this time-sensitive one first! The Spring 5 is a bit of a local classic, it's been going for years and I first did it 15 years ago. That said, I've never found it particularly fast and my course PB is only 28.46, run the last time I did it in 2013 when I should have run far quicker. As a result of all that, I was pleased with this performance. A very fast start after which I consciously eased off for the undulating Picton Road. Turning left along the farm lanes has often slowed times in the past, as the lanes gradually climb, but today I felt fairly strong and - although slowing - maintained a decent pace to the finish to record an unlikely 'course PB' by 5 seconds!

Foel Lus

Race: Foel Lus (3.5m/290m)

Time/Position: 27.48 (24th from 150 [2nd V50])

This is the only one of the Tuesday evening Snowdonia series I have ever done, running 26.36 in 2017. I must have been on a good day, as I was over a minute outside that this evening despite feeling reasonably good. It is a cracking little race, up the tracks from Capelulo's Fairy Glen, then heading fairly direct for the distinctive top of Foel Lus via the eastern path (up in less than 15 minutes). I then had a good descent down the south side and along to the Jubilee Path which contours above the A55 and which I was really looking forward to, hoping to benefit from road speed. It went fairly well but I got temporarily stuck behind two runners so couldn't really capitalise. They then inevitably went past on the descent (which replicates the outward left) and I took some bad indirect lines, one in particular caused me to lose a fair amount of ground before the very fast finish back down the track to Capelulo.

Tattenhall 6m

Race: Tattenhall 9.7k (Border League race 6)

Time/Position: 35.20 (30th from 242 [1st V50])

This felt like perhaps the best performance of the BL season for me, certainly in terms of the time in relation to my previous course PBs, which I'm unlikely to match. I'm fairly sure I have never run sub 35 on this course, which is just under 10k but not the quickest, with its sharp climb towards the the Peckforton Hills: so this wasn't too far off my best (unless the course has changed, and I don't think it has). I know the course well, and the key to it is saving something for the triple climb. I went off fast on the Burwardsley road then deliberately eased off for Dark Lane, saving something for the climb which then begins immediately. I always forget quite how steep this gets for a little while on Harthill Road. I have always enjoyed the descent from Burwardsley, and did so today, and then felt encouragingly good for the last mile, a false flat which has often seen me blowing in the past. A 66 point lead in the V50 category now. 

Kruja

Peaks: Mali i Krujes

Area: Skanderbeg, Albania

Kruja is dominated by a steep, craggy limestone mountain that protects it from the east. It nestles around the slopes, with its castle looking out over the plains to the Adriatic. I headed there from Tirana on a dreadful day of cold rain and mist. When I arrived in Kruja, I couldn't see the mountains - in fact, I couldn't even see the castle. It was all very atmospheric, however, and later the mist cleared then swirled around the crags. Next morning was far better: some high cloud but hints of warmed sunshine to come as I headed up the Rruga Malit (mountain road) after a fine breakfast at the memorable Hotel Panorama. At the top of town, there is an ancient path leading up the mountain to 'Sarisalltik', a Bektashi muslim shrine in a cave below one of the limestone crags. Despite its ancient engineered zigzags (in places), it was relentlessly steep, a 500m ascent that took me 28 minutes at a fair lick. Above, I passed an old hotel to take in the true summit. It was early, and very quiet, a beautiful ambience and soft light. Lovely hills all around (particularly a double summit near Noje). I jogged along a wooded ridge south taking in two subsidiary peaks (these were clearly visible from the airport later). Nice woods and open meadows. Then it was back down the newly tarmaced mountain road, which is distinctly Alpine, well engineered, and curves round the mountain north and west for 6k+ back to Kruja. It gave a lovely running descent, almost no cars, in 25 minutes. Then it was back to Rinas to lunch on shish kebabs before the flight home.

Dajti

Peaks: Mali i Dajtit (1613m), Mali i Tujanit (1524m)

Area: Skanderbeg, Albania

This range of high wooded hills dominates Tirana and is served by a newish (2005) Austrian cable car, one of Europe's longest, that leaves the far eastern suburbs and heads up to a small plateau. From here, however, it is still a fair trek to the summits which makes them worthwhile objectives. There are no maps, but there was a stylised drawing of peaks and paths at the bottom cable car. After some very mixed weather and a lot of rain, this morning dawned clear and sunny, the best day of my week in Albania. The bus system is rather opaque, but I got on the right one from the city centre and worked out the closest stop, getting one of the first cars up at 9am. I found a signpost to the Qafa a Qershise col and followed that through the woods until an arrow sent me west. This felt counter intuitive but followed a delightful level path through the beech woods so I followed it. After a while it became obvious it was wrong, so I retraced my steps and eventually found the real route to the col, which proved direct and comfortable, though relentless, and gained the lovely col. This was sun-drenched, strewn with limestone outcrops and little alpine meadows. To the right, Dajti, to the left, another shapely peak, Tujanit. I went up the former first, up a series of tracks that became quite snowy as I ascended: an inch or two in places, and icy in the shady spots. At the top of the track, views opened out at a bizarre listening post, presumably a Hoxha legacy, a dilapidated building with dozens of satellite dishes. Annoyingly, the marked trail ended here too, but it was well below the true summit, which then proved a challenge to reach. The old buildings appeared to be manned, so I sneaked away to very steep snowy slopes which led to an open limestone gully with mild scrambling which gained the summit ridge, quite nicely defined. Superb views finally opened out as the treeline was definitively left: down to Tirana and the Adriatic, and east to the interior hills, snow covered at the Macedonian border. Further north, I think the Albanian Alps were visible as another line of white. I found an easier way down, then headed back to the col before taking the comfortable track up Tujanit. This had a wide open summit, almost circular, with great views north over the spectacularly blue Bovilla lake to the mountains above Kruje I hoped to visit soon. Further east, river valleys led up to the snowy peaks of Gropa-Bize-Martanesh. After spending a while admiring the view, I headed down to the col and then back to the balcony for an iced coffee.

Mbreshtan return

Berat is a pretty special place, nestled around the Osumi river and dominated by Tomorri, an inaccessible, complex and impressive mountain - particularly when snow-covered (which it was during my stay). On arrival in Albania, I had vaguely wondered whether it might be possible to get up Tomorri, but discounted it immediately - it would have been a serious undertaking necessitating all sorts of planning. Another mountain also attracts the attention from Berat, indeed there is a legend connecting both of them to the town's foundation. Shpirag is half the height, much less impressive, and once spelt out the name of 'Enver' in gigantic letters, one of the most famous pieces of Hoxha-era propaganda. It looked entirely feasible, and I wanted a long outing anyway so after a huge breakfast in my hotel I walked along the river before cutting west through Velabisht to gain the long valley heading up towards Shpirag (which is a remarkably long mountain, cut with parallel re-entrants). This curved gradually up towards Palikesht, a hamlet dominated by derelict barracks and what appeared to be dozens of old mines. Ahead, a dog attack of a kind that does occasionally happen in the Balkans. I emerged unscathed but carried a stick thereafter. These dogs were at least small and not too threatening, unlike the giant sheepdogs I encountered later. These mean business, but don't attack you: they just issue a warning bark and that is enough for any sensible person to retreat. Annoyingly, the road curved away from Shpirag and I made a nav error before righting myself and reaching a little reservoir below Mala Kules. Above, the straggling village of Mbreshtan. I had already gone 10k by this point and it was beginning to look like a slightly unrealistic exercise. The road was good, but the route to the peak ran through little farms replete with more dogs. I didn't fancy trying to explain what I was trying to do to the villagers, who were essentially Tosk peasants. So at the top of the village, I decided to cut my losses and return to Berat, which was actually very pleasant - with beautiful views of Tomorri, plastered white with snow under a milky sky. Even better, it stayed dry throughout, a weather window between spells of torrential rain.