Tryfan climbing

Crag/Peak: Tryfan, Eryri
Routes: Pinnacle Rib Route (D:led p.1,3), Thompson's Chimney (HS 4b:led)
Thick clag all day, which failed to clear, contrary to the forecast. After the slog up to the Terrace,  led the first pitch of the obscure Northern Rib, looking for the very few little pitches I haven't done on the East Face. Sadly, it is obscure for a reason: disjointed and pointless. So we moved left to the original Pinnacle Rib (having repeated Overlapping Rib fairly recently). Perhaps my third time up the original route, an easy classic. I merged the first pitch to take the pleasant slanting slab then the easy groove to a ledge - 100ft of delightfully simple climbing. Steve led up the steeper groove to broken ground, and I led through picking out the choice bits until the Yellow Slab. I'd led this last September, so Steve led it and continued up the curving flakes above. With mist swirling round, we decided to finish up Thompson's. I last led this in the snow in March 1992, at the time it had the comedy grade of VD. It is quite a thrutch. The initial wall is tricky, then the main chimney was wet - it has a very awkward move up the crack to gain better holds on the right wall, and a flake higher up. It is very atmospheric, though, and finishes as close to the summit as you can get. We descended in thick clag, and then rescued a lost couple from the grassy bowl above North Gully (completely disoriented, they thought they were on the west face), leading them to safety down Little Gully - a day they definitely won't forget in a hurry. Jogged back to the car for an easy finish: useful mountaineering shakedown in advance of our Alps trip.

Carneddau run

Peaks: Pen y Castell, Drum, Carnedd y Ddelw
Area: Carneddau, Eryri
A pronounced dip in form: possibly allergies again (although the muscle damage after my downhill relay leg didn't help). Struggled up from Tal y Bont, maximising the climbing again, up the steep road beyond Llanbedr y Cennin to the old hillfort (memories of taking E up here when she was very young). Pen y Castell is one of Snowdonia's most obscure hills, and the paths up are tenuous to say the least. It was sunny, for the most part, but very windy; and the long haul up Drum was tough - very windy on the summit, as it often is. I lay down in the cairn for a rest, then pelted over Carnedd y Ddelw for the long descent on the road.

Welsh Castles Relay

Race: Welsh Castles Relay, Stage 15 Epynt-Brecon (12.8m)
Time/Position: 1.19.51 (13th from 64)
Given my current training regime, this was perhaps the worst possible leg for me - mainly downhill, all on tarmac. That said, my run at the Beast on Wednesday had come as a surprise and gave some cause for optimism - although ultimately I have done nothing on road for months, and certainly not a half-marathon. I was reliant on the muscle memory from 40+ half marathons in the past, and just kept a pace ticking over that I knew I could sustain. I requested a different leg from last year, in my endless search for novelty, and really enjoyed the drive down and car bivouac. I arrived at the Epynt 'visitor centre' (a derelict house) several hours before the stage, and relaxed in its very tranquil atmosphere (the middle of nowhere, on the edge of the Sennybridge military land). Then the castles charabanc starts to come through - what the event is all about - and the stage begins. An initial climb leads to inspiring views of the Beacons, then a long downhill section through Upper Chapel, before it levels off for undulations through Lower Chapel and Llandefaelog Fach. A detour west up a steep hill to Cradoc was tough but allowed me to gain a couple more places as quick starters began to suffer. Some more hills on this detour section before a downhill finish right next to the river in Brecon. I finished first from the 10 veteran teams in the race (this is not the same as being first veteran!): as with last year, it was nice to be involved and to help the team. We finished a very creditable second Vet team overall, behind Les Croupiers, and I sampled some of the atmosphere on the Sunday, driving down to Cardiff for the finish, and staying overnight.

Beast fell race

Race: Up the Beast, Bryn Alyn
Time/Position: 41.29 (6th from 116 [2nd V40])
I've almost forgotten what proper racing feels like with all the long, slow stuff, so this was a welcome way to jog the memory. I started out mid-pack, genuinely expecting to stay there, but was somewhat amazed to feel quite good, just like old times. I've done every 'Beast' race since it started (apart from last year), so don't have too many excuses, and always enjoy the course. I kept it slow and steady through the woods, then upped the pace a bit for the climb through the limestone outcrops to the top of Bryn Alyn, passing a few of the quick starters. I descended reasonably well, given lack of road speed, and managed to keep it going for the climb back up Bryn Alyn which is always the crux (although it was cooler than usual this evening after a showery day). Then came a grand old battle with Simon on the run in through the woods back to Maeshafn, which is all a lot longer and harder than it used to be.

Orme/Penmaenbach climbing

Crag: St Tudno's, Great Orme
Routes: Pile Driver (f6a:led), Thankyou Johnny (f6a+:sec)
Crag: Penmaenbach, Conwy
Routes: A55 Hole Arete (f5:sec), Jack the Jeffer (f6a:led), Linking Crack (f6a:led), Grandad's Groove (f6a+:sec), Work-Life Balance (f6b+:sec*), Shezurrection 2 (f6a+:led)
More difficult decisions on this short trip. The best forecast of the week - but cloud was draped over central Snowdonia first thing, and a cold north-westerly wind was blowing. The two most feasible options were chalk and cheese: sports climbing around Llandudno, or a mountaineering route on the east face of Tryfan. We went for the former, dropping Kate off and heading round Marine Drive for the very short walk down to St Tudno's. I've never climbed at this crag before, although I've been near it, and some of the routes have recently been retro-bolted. It is just minutes from the car, and indeed the centre of Llandudno, but as with all the crags below Marine Drive, feels miles from anywhere with wonderful views of the sea. Conditions were poor - it was dry, but cold, sunless and very windy as I set off up Pile Driver. This takes a steep juggy groove to a tricky crux traversing left on small holds. This leads to better holds and an easier finish on flat holds up a vague groove further left. My fingers were numb with cold, which doesn't help at the Orme, where I have always found everything just a bit too hard! The 6a+ to the right seemed a tad easier - certainly more positive, up juggy flakes to a technical section at the top. Both quite good climbs, but that was enough - we needed sunshine and shelter, so scampered back to the cars and round to Sychnant. As ever, a lovely walk down to Penmaenbach in glorious clarity of light - but the wind stayed, nagging and persistently cold. We just couldn't escape it, so Steve did the easy arete and I did the more sheltered side slab of Jack the Jeffer at 6a. I did this last year - it has one or two delicate moves but is worthwhile. We then moved down to the middle tier, visited with Peter in April. This time, we made much more of an impact on it. Most of the routes look dire from immediately below, but better and more defined from a distance - and are OK, if not exactly classic, when actually climbing them. Linking Crack is scrappy at first, but a bulge leads to a clean upper wall and enjoyable sharp, slanting crack. This is fairly positive and simple, with hidden footholds, and leads to a steep final wall. A fairly long 22m pitch, as was Grandad's Groove, which has a few tough moves at the start up a steep wall and vague groove with good flakey holds leading to a slabbier section before a similar finish to Linking Crack. The slabby (relatively) wall further right is cleaner and better - and gives good climbing. Steve led the 6b+ without knowing the grade! It has a blank section at mid-height, which I found desperate in my dreadful new shoes - like clogs and not at all what was required. Neither of us did this cleanly. Shezurrection - a 6a+ to its left - was the best route I've done on this section. It takes a nice line up a very vague shallow groove. Generally positive holds and fairly sustained, although never excessively hard. It takes a bit of thought to get the right sequence, and stays interesting right to the top.

Hebog-Nantlle

Peaks: Bryn Bron Banog, Moel Hebog, Moel yr Ogof, Moel Lefn, Mynydd Bwlch y Ddwy Elor, Trum y Ddisgyl, Mynydd Drws y Coed, Y Garn
Area: Nantlle/Hebog, Eryri
Torn between two options this morning. I originally planned to do the Duddon fell race, but didn't fancy the long drive on my own. Instead, I opted for a longish Paddy reccie, recreating it by starting at 4am from home! I left Beddgelert at 6am in constant drizzle, totally unforecast, with hopes (soon to be dashed) that it would clear. There's not much point doing a reccie in thick clag, particularly as my plan was to concentrate on finding the best lines across the section of Eryri that I know least well. Indeed, I've never even been up Bryn Bron Banog - an obscure outlier of Moel Hebog. I jogged down the empty road through Aberglaslyn, looking across to Canyon Rib, an obscure climb which I did in 2011. Then a wet and humid trudge through the woods to emerge onto the open hill - somewhere above lay Bryn Bron Banog, but this was terra incognita for me. I followed my nose as well as the map, as the detail was insufficient, tracking walls upwards through bog and awkward terrain until I reached the windy summit - all very bleak, drizzle and thick mist - utterly pointless from a reconnaissance perspective. I ended up descending well to the north, right the way down to emerge from the clag above the hill farms, then contouring awkward terrain to pick up the Hebog race route at the bottom of the track. It is a long and draining climb from here, good training in a sense, and it looked like the clag was dissipating. A forlorn hope: at the summit, the mist was thick again. Nothing for it but to plod on, jogging down the steep slope to the col below the cleft that leads to Moel yr Ogof. I remember flying down this section, feeling very good, on one of the years I did the Cwm Pennant horseshoe race. Then over to Moel Lefn, an easy summit to miss, but not as easy as Gyrn to miss. I actually got the route bang on across the ridge, not easy in these conditions, and remembered the tortuous maze through the quarry workings around Bwlch y Ddwy Elor. Heavy rain started again, and the wind picked up. I found the climb up Trum y Ddisgyl utterly dispiriting. This was very discouraging given what I have been training for. No idea what the issue was, particularly as I have never found this route all that demanding before (indeed one year I had something of a flier up this climb on the Pennant race). At the ridge, I headed right along the narrowest and best section of the Nantlle ridge, which was wet, slippery and claggy throughout. At Y Garn, I just descended straight down to Rhyd Ddu, fed up, which meant a long run back to Beddgelert, over 10k to add to a fairly lengthy morning out. The road is too dangerous, so I took the weaving (and tiring) forest track and was back in time for lunch.

Ogwen circuit

Peaks: Pen yr Helgi Du, Pen Llithrig y Wrach, Gallt yr Ogof
Area: Carneddau/Glyderau, Eryri
A slightly eccentric impromptu horseshoe. The intention had been to reccie the Hebog/Nantlle leg of Paddy, but torrential rain along the A55 dissipated those plans. Instead, we adapted, and parked at the end of the steep tarmac road that gives access to Llugwy and Bwlch Eryl Farchog. This is fine in any weather, a quick running route into the hills. And by the time we'd reached the bwlch, very quickly from Ogwen, the weather began to clear with mist peeling off the ridge to Helgi Du. We ran up this, still before 9am, and straight over the other side towards Pen Llithrig. I was last here over Christmas with my 'hard way up' from Tal y Bont. We were all enjoying ourselves now, and decided to extend the day by descending to Capel Curig (quite complex to find the best line on the top part of this descent, and part of the Paddy route of course). At Capel, I discovered I'd dropped my food! My companions fed me, and we then embarked on the very long and trackless climb up Gallt yr Ogof. Good running up the old Miners Track initially, then into the bowl below the Red Slab, contouring up to gain the summit in foul weather. It was now as cold and wet as it had been when we started, so we pelted down to Gwern y Gof Isaf and the car, in time for lunch.

Ras y Moelwyn

Race: Moelwyn fell race (10m+/3200ft/AM)
Peaks: Moelwyn Mawr, Craigysgafn, Moelwyn Bach, Moel yr Hydd
Time/Position: 1.50.50 (88th from 280)
I was amazed to discover that it has been a decade since I last did this excellent race. I can only think that is because it tends to clash with London. This year, however, it was run a month later as a British championship race, and as such the sense of occasion and place in this most distinctive and interesting of towns was ramped up a bit. I have a bit of a connection with Blaenau, so really enjoyed the special start from Rawson Square, in front of Ty Gorsaf in the middle of town with all the peaks just emerging from the clag and visible from the start: a brilliant touch. Then came a fast start through the streets of Blaenau, before dropping down to the rugby club and making our way onto the open hill over the railway. Then comes a long but gradual climb up to Cwm Orthin, which I remembered well from last time, passing below the crags of Tan y Grisiau, a favourite climbing area for me. I kept a steady pace going, albeit slow given current training regime, until the final steep climb up the northern ridge of Moelwyn Mawr. The mist was down, and it was quite cold and clammy on the summit. Even with 300 runners, the route over Craigysgafn was not all that obvious in terms of the quickest line - and I certainly didn't get it. The climb up Moelwyn Bach is quick, however. In the mist, I had no memory of the onward route: I plunged leftwards down the gully initially, slightly unsure, then prevaricated with a poor onward route, too far right initially, then too far left, before emerging from the mist above Llyn Stwlan, where the checkpoint was. The race used to head across the dam and up Moel yr Hydd, but today went backwards, up the side of Moelwyn Bach again, to join a superb contouring slate path to the col (others took a better line further right). Given current distance, I found the final climb up Moel yr Hydd fairly comfortable, and the mist then cleared for the tricky descent down the broad boggy and rocky gully back to Cwm Orthin before a long and weaving finish with small extra climbs. I finished at the rugby club 15 minutes down on my 2009 time, although a fair portion of this must be due to the extended route - at least that's what I'm telling myself!

Maeshafn climbing

Crag: Maeshafn
Routes: Puppy Power (VS 4b:led), The Bulger (HVS 5b:sec), Bulger variant (VS 4c:sec), Sling  variant (VS 4c:sec), Little Finger Jam variant (HVS:sec)
The usual brief pre-Collie outing, although I did kick off with a lead of the slabby VS Puppy Power, done numerous times before. This is briefly delicate for a few moves, before an easy finish on big holds. We then moved round to the Amphitheatre, where we set up a top-rope for more routes done many times before. The Bulger, and its variants, are much easier than Little Finger Jam, which has always had a desperate start (UK 5c+?) and is even more polished these days.

Ogwen climbing

Crags: Clogwyn Bochlwyd/Craig Caseg Fraith Isaf, Ogwen
Routes: Marble Slab (HS 4b:led), Arete and Slab (D:sec), Two Pitch Route Direct (S 4a:led), A5 (HS:sec), Grug (S:led), Canol (HVS 5a:sec), Bulge (VS 5a:sec)
Having dragged Steve to the obscure and vegetated Craig Rhiwarth earlier this month, I felt a conservative choice was in order for this brief late afternoon outing. Bochlwyd fitted the bill, and I kicked off with a route I last did in the early 90s. Marble Slab is short, but delightful, with its twin cracks leading to a well-protected but committing move around an overlap, before delicate slab climbing with good wires leads to a ledge and easier climbing up the right-hand arete. Due to a lifetime taking detailed notes, I later discovered that Tim led this all those years ago, not me! So it was nice to lead it today. Steve then did the Diff to the right of the crag, and I led a direct version of Two Pitch Route. I did something similar last year, taking the groove on the left, then leading direct to the top in one, without traversing left. This takes slightly messier terrain right of the crack: a touch harder than the normal route. The weather had been a little cold and cloudy, but now began to clear beautifully to fluffy clouds and warmish sunshine. We drove round to the little crag above Gwern Gof Uchaf. Steve led the rather awkward A5, which takes a left-slanting crack with a tricky move or two. My lead, Grug, was not great: slightly green closed cracks to a ledge, then more dirty climbing up cracks to a tree. Small wires and small cams needed, mildly disconcerting. We finished off with rope above, using the excuse of excessive polish. Canol is easier than Bulge, despite their respective grades. It climbs delicately to a ledge on rounded holds, then a nice finger jamming crack to the top. Bulge is just a bit awkward, and very polished throughout. A late finish in which a beautiful evening developed, although a few light clouds remained.

Cuillin Ridge North-South (day two)

Peaks: Sgurr Dubh, Sgurr nan Eag, Sgurr a'Choire Bhig, Gars Bheinn
Area: Cuillin, Skye
Overnight, I began to regard this unconventional Cuillin traverse as perfectly calibrated Paddy Buckley training! If I am attuned to anything at present, it is fast walks up multiple climbs, so it was no real problem to be faced with the 3000ft re-ascent back to the ridge from the Glen Brittle hut. In fact, it was enjoyable - another stunning morning, the wind had dropped to a whispering breeze now and the temperature had climbed considerably. Conditions remained superb, though, and it was never too hot. From the hut, I jogged along Glen Brittle to the campsite, then up the Coire Lagan path until it splits. I descended this way last year, and was relishing the chance to revisit Coire a'Ghrunnda, which is one of Skye's finest cwms (although, unlike most of Skye - which feels utterly distinctive - to me Ghrunnda is reminiscent of the Maritime Alps). Staying left on the approach (it is a classic hanging valley) gives some fine scrambling on clean gabbro, as ever there are no easy ways up and the route-finding is never simple. It was early, and I was completely alone in this wonderful bowl of rock, with stunning views backwards across the sea to Rum. The far side is very bouldery and awkward but gives access to the main ridge fairly simply - the easier section below the TD gap that we visited last year. Sunny on the eastern side of the crest, and I romped along the rough sculpted rock, bypassing the tower on the ridge, Casteal a'Gharbh Choire, but then commencing on the scramble up Sgurr nan Eag too far left. This led to a steep wall, then exposed traversing right across slabs to a very steep groove - which I guessed would gain easier ground. Luckily, it did, and I followed the normal ascent route to the ridge crest at the top - with the summit some way along this to the south. It was a wonderful privilege to be up here alone in these conditions, and the remainder of the ridge to Gars Bheinn looks mouthwatering from Sgurr nan Eag. It is much more straightforward than the rest of the traverse, but still beautifully defined and starts with a steep descent on scree to a bealach, before grassy but steep scrambling leads back up to the fairly sharp crest of Sgurr a'Choire Bhig. From here, a joyous catwalk suspended above the sea leads along to the beautiful pyramid of Gars Bheinn. This entire section, alone, was memorable - stunning views down to Coruisk on the left, and the sea coming ever closer in front. Every step was a pleasure. My solitude was then interrupted by three Scousers, just embarking on the traverse from south to north having taken four hours to slog up Gars Bheinn. These were the only people I saw all day, however, and after rounding a shattered tower, I climbed up to the summit of Gars Bheinn and drank in the view, undoubtedly one of the best in the British Isles. The entire ridge back to Gillean dominates, of course, as does the sea directly below. It was one of those very special mountain moments - I sat there for half an hour drinking it all in. The reverie soon goes, however, with an unusually tough descent directly down the shifting scree that forms this peak - still, better down it than up it. Then comes the long but very pleasant trudge back along the remote territory marking this furthest stretch of the southern Cuillin, I was a bit tired, and stopped for water a few times. But it only took me 2.52 from the hut to Gars Bheinn, so I was moving much more quickly for this southerly section. I began to slow towards the end of the descent, however, and drove straight to Shiel Bridge for a wash in the river and a picnic lunch looking up at the Five Sisters.

Cuillin Ridge North-South (day one)

Peaks: Sgurr nan Gillean, Sgurr a' Fionn Choire, Bruach na Frithe, Sgurr na Bairnich, An Caisteal, Bidean Druim nan Ramh, Sgurr a'Mhadaidh, Sgurr a'Greadaidh, Sgurr Thormaid, Sgurr na Banachdich, Sgurr nan Gobhar
Routes: West Ridge Gillean (M), Druim nan Ramh Traverse (M), Four Tops Traverse Mhadaidh (D)
Area: Cuillin, Skye
An unconventional and not entirely legitimate Cuillin ridge traverse, which ended up as a considerably more physical, but less technical, two-day outing. Yet it was still a continuous linear journey from Sgurr nan Gillean to Gars Bheinn, and in that sense a privilege, as well as an unusually demanding version with over 3000ft of extra climbing. The night was windy, with gusty blasts rocking the van as I tried to sleep outside the Glen Brittle hut. As a result, I missed my alarm and was dozing (assuming the day was off) when Simon knocked on the door of the van! As a result I had about 10 minutes to prepare for a day some spend a lifetime preparing for. I wolfed down a bit of breakfast, threw some kit in my sac, and we were off to Sligachan, nearly 8am - far too late already. Vic imposed a 10 hour time limit on the attempt, which proved a tad ambitious. The main issue early on was the wind, a bitter northerly that blasted into us as we struggled up the 'tourist route' up Gillean. I last did this in pouring rain and thick mist with Gareth in the wet August of 1992! It is a very drawn out route, something of a slog, which curves round the base of Pinnacle Ridge (which we did last year - a far better way up), then finds a way through complex terrain to gain a bowl of rock and finally the upper south-east ridge which proves that the 'tourist' descriptor is something of a misnomer - it is pretty narrow and exposed. Very windy throughout, quite draining at times, and a shame so early on in the traverse. I found a way up solid slabs to the ridge, which avoided the scree but meant I lost contact with the other two until the summit, which is a spectacular spot - I often say it is the finest peak in the British Isles. After a bite, we got the harnesses on and descended the superb West Ridge. I missed the top section of this last year, so it was nice to do it in full - weaving down shelves and walls to pass through the 'window', a hole in the rock. It is interesting and fun throughout, and ends at Nicholson's chimney, which we abbed (as we did last year). We skirted Am Basteir, to save time, but I nipped up the scrambly traverse over Sgurr a'Fionn Choire by way of recompense, and because I hadn't done it before. It is quite a striking peak from some angles. From here, we moved very quickly over Bruach na Frithe - still very cold and windy - and then down the superb ridge which approaches the complex central section. Perhaps the best views of all are had from this section before An Caisteal - it gives good but non-technical scrambling and allows for quick progress until you reach the awkward gap below An Caisteal. We roped up and I led a short pitch to a grassy section, where we had lunch with great views into remote Harta Corrie, before heading up a slabby basalt groove to the top. Next up is Bidean Druim nan Ramh, perhaps the most complex section of the whole ridge, with three separate tops. The intricate detail is hard to recall, but there is a great deal of downclimbing, the occasional abseil, and some excellent hard scrambling. I suspect it is even more complex from north to south, as the route-finding is less obvious. A step over a deep gully sticks in the mind, as does a very exposed traverse above a lot of space near the final tower. Eventually, the angle eases and the ridge becomes broad and grassy for a short section before rearing up quite quickly towards Sgurr a'Mhadaidh. I'd been up the main summit of this peak before, freezing in a howling north-westerly gale in 2015. But the mountain has a lot more to offer - in fact, it has four separate summits and is another famously complex section of the ridge, particularly in this direction. The first two peaks are fairly easy, with simple downclimbs and excellent scrambling. Then things get more complicated and serious, with steep pitches and roped downclimbs before the descent of the final peak before the main summit - this is very steep indeed, indeed it looks quite outrageous at the grade from the other side. It gave absorbing scrambling to the final col, before a mini ridge leads to a step left onto exposed slabs which give access to the Mhadaidh summit ridge. Throughout this section, tremendous views straight down to Coruisk and Coire an Uaigneis. Light cloud blocked the sun for a while, although it stayed clear. We descended to An Dorus, a familiar spot to me now, a tiny breche which requires a few steep moves to leave on the Greadaidh side. We then kept too far left on the ridge up Greadaidh, having to retrace our steps to get on the right-hand side of the 'Wart' rock tower. Famously, the ridge between (and slightly beyond) the twin summits of Sgurr a'Greadaidh is the narrowest section of all, a proper knife-edge, and gives tremendous scrambling and views. We did it last year, but it seemed more spectacular in this direction. You lose track of time on the ridge, absorbed in its wonderful intricacies, and the sun was beginning to drop - all clouds melted away and a stunning evening began to develop. At the bealach, we met Dave and Ken, dozing behind some rocks, in the middle of their three day south-north crossing. It was obvious that we would fail to meet our 10 hour target, so began to hatch different plans. Above comes the easy scrambling up towards the Teeth, and then airy slabs to the top of Sgurr Thormaid, before the awkward scree traverse to gain Banachdich. After continuing along to Sgurr Dearg, Vic suggested we sack the attempt and descend to the hut - glistening below in the evening sunshine (we had no bivvy gear and no torches, so to an extent our hand was forced, although physically I felt fine and had plenty of water and a full malt loaf left). Instead of going straight down, we traversed across to the wonderful spur of Sgurr nan Gobhar - which gave a stunning and memorable descent, straight towards the setting sun which was dipping towards the Outer Hebrides of Barra and Uist. To the left, Soay and Rum all greens and blacks on a glistening silver sea. It just got better and better, and as I descended I realised my legs felt good and that there was no real option but to climb back up to the ridge and finish the job the next day.

Clach Glas-Blaven traverse

Peaks: Sgurr nan Each (720m), Clach Glas (786m), Blaven/Bla Bheinn (928m)
Routes: North Ridge (D:led), South Ridge (D:sol), North Ridge/18m Chimney (D:led)
Area: Cuillin, Skye
Rather like Ardverikie Wall, this has been a painfully obvious gap in my mountaineering CV for decades. I'd arrived in Glen Brittle fairly late yesterday evening, and found it unsurprisingly tricky to get a partner for this - as it requires a long drive back in the direction most people had just come, so was not a very logical choice for the first day on Skye! However, unlike the rest of the hut residents, I only had a couple of days so had to maximise my time, and wanted to fill in those obvious gaps. Eventually, an ideal little team emerged: Simon M agreed it would make a nice 'active rest day' in advance of our ridge attempt on Monday, and new AAC member Elaine arrived at the last minute. We drove round to Loch Slapin, last visited with the family in 2012: stunning views across to Blaven, one of the most famous and best views in the UK, with the entire ridge etched black against a deep blue sky. The car park was full, so Elaine (who had detailed local knowledge) introduced us to a connoiseur's route, very much my cup of tea, up the untravelled valley of the Allt Aigeann. This was superb: completely empty, following a delightful stream as the valley twists right then left and becomes a tight rocky gorge. Some tricky scrambling allowed us to escape the gorge, then fairly solid scree led to the big bealach between Garbh Bheinn and Sgurr nan Each. It clouded over a bit temporarily, and a fierce northerly blasted into us when we emerged - uncomfortably cold for a while. We skirted the highpoint of Sgurr nan Each, and the wind dropped quite a bit as we approached the mighty Clach Glas - which looks stupendous from this angle, the 'Matterhorn of Skye' as it is often called, a spire of black rock. At another col, numerous gendarmes and pinnacles dot the lower section, which are turned on the right. Above some exposed slabs give good scrambling to a narrowing of the ridge where it begins in earnest. More twists and turns lead to a scree gully, and then a rightward slanting shallow chimney which is key to the route. I led this on my half rope and Elaine was happier this way: Simon soloed alongside. At the top, the route heads left up superb open slabs, easy but exposed throughout. I led a long pitch up the slabs, heading right at the top to a belay, then led up gabbro shelves to the superb summit: this entire section is wonderful, as good as anything of its kind in the British Isles. It was sunny again, with stupendous clarity of light. The views were magnificent in all directions - across to Blaven, then back to the Cuillin outliers, then across to the main ridge, all of which is visible from this angle. The peaks of Knoydart, Torridon and Sgritheall all glistened with Friday's fresh snow, and the panorama stretched from Jura in the south to Fisherfield and the Outer Hebrides. After a snack, the traverse continues. We stayed roped up for the crack that leads to the tricky downclimb of the 'Imposter'. This is the famous, photogenic spire at the top of the south ridge. it looks improbable from below, but - as its name suggests - is much easier than it looks. The bottom basalt section is a tad awkward, however, and very exposed above Choire a'Caise. After this, difficulties ease but the ridge remains narrow and superb, dropping down to the left via a gully lower down, absorbing scrambling throughout with numerous surprises and detours required before the obvious haven of the 'putting green' is reached. This is a grassy col between the two peaks and an obvious lunch spot, with the Great Prow towering nearby. Then comes the route up the north flank of Blaven. This has a steep wall with good holds before slanting right then left to gain a scree slope below the 'half crown pinnacle'. On the right is the 18m chimney, which was a cold but atmospheric line with two good threads and good gabbro holds on the right wall. I brought Elaine up and we then dumped the sacks at the mini-col before walking to the top of Blaven via the broad east ridge in perfect weather (although it clouded over just a tad at the summit). A very long descent down to Coire Uaigneach, where the route kinks round, back to the shores of Loch Slapin and the car on the other side of the lake. Nice to tick this classic route at last - perhaps the best route of its kind in the UK. Alpine PD+.

Ardverikie Wall

Crag/Peak: Binnein Shuas (747m)
Route: Ardverikie Wall (HS 4a,4a,4b,4b:led p.2)
Area: Central Highlands, Scotland
A classic climb, one of Scotland's finest, and one that I have wanted to do for decades. We decided it would make an ideal stopover (and meeting point) en route to Skye, but driving up the A9 late on Friday night in driving sleet and wet snow, having just escaped a blizzard on Ben Vorlich, it seemed highly unlikely we would even start the walk-in never mind do the climb. A very cold (-3C) night sleeping in the car at the Craig Meagaidh nature reserve (last visited two years ago, our final greatly missed Whit family Highlands trip) compounded that view. But: I was woken next morning by sunlight streaming in through the rear window, and spectacular plumes of mist draped around the slopes of Creag Meagaidh, gradually burning off as the sun rose. After coffee and porridge, I met Vic and Simon at Moy Bridge and we started the walk-in under glorious skies: it was cold but not freezing, not entirely settled, with shower clouds to the east, but generally an incredible change from last night. Dry rock seemed a real possibility. And we knew the forecast was for it to get better and better over the next few days. First, however, we missed the turn off when chatting and made a famously long walk-in even longer by heading west through the conifers! Very annoying, but we reversed and decided to concentrate, heading along the track which skirts Binnein Shuas and gives access to the remote valley that gives the route its special character. I can't think of too many points of comparison in the UK: such a quality climb in such a wonderfully remote setting (Craig yr Ysfa would be the closest Welsh equivalent). This whole area has a distinctive feel, which I enjoyed in 2017 when we were here, slap bang in the middle of the Highlands, hovering between east and west in tone. The track curves round the corner, and there in front is Lochan na h-Earba, with the towering crags of Binnein Shuas catching the sun above. Famously, Ardverikie Wall looks utterly improbable at the grade until you are below it. From most angles it looks like an intimidating blank wall of rock, save for the obvious flake crack on pitch 2, which I ended up leading. We made good progress after the track, as a well-trodden path leads up to the base of the route. I thought we would have it all to ourselves, but no such luck - two young lads on bikes beat us to it, so we had a delay. Soon, though, Vic led up the merged first pitch, which takes a juggy rib - introducing us to the feldspar/microgranite characteristic of the crag, rough and compact, not unlike Cornish granite in places. The rib goes to a juggy steepening, then a run-out pocketed slab. Simon and I followed (we climbed on two single ropes for maximum flexibility). This gave me the superb second pitch - traversing right to gain the beautiful flake crack that is the most obvious feature of the route. This was easy but delightful, well protected with some bomber wires, and impeccable climbing - steady, absorbing and interesting throughout. At the top of the crack, a bulge leads to a platform then a short wall, where I joined the other party at an awkwardly small stance. The views and general ambience, looking down the wall to the loch, and across to the high peaks of Geal Charn, the Ben Alder group and across to the far end of the Ramsey Round at Chno Dearg, were unbeatable. Simon led the 3rd, another long pitch (this was a perfect route to do as a trio, with three brilliant quality 35m pitches). The probable crux comes straight away, a delicate move up the slab to a closed crack, which leads more easily rightwards to a broader, easy groove which heads diagonally left to another perfect belay. Vic led the 4th, up a scoop to a curving system of steep flakes - a precise solution to the final steeper section, curving right through the day's only wet patch, to a pull over the final bulge on perfectly positioned jugs. This leads to a terrace and the end of the difficulties, with a long final slabby pitch on easy rock leading to the plateau. The sun had now emerged after appearing intermittently (along with some very light rain) and we finally started to warm up (although it was never unbearably cold). We had lunch admiring the glorious views - it was especially nice to look across to Laggan and the valley we stayed in two years ago, and beyond a very snowy Cairngorm plateau. Fluffy clouds now, so having carried sacs throughout we completed the day in appropriately traditional mountaineering fashion, scrambling to the top of Binnein Shuas for its view of Creag Meagaidh, then descending the rocky shoulder to the west (with all the Grey Corries, Ben Nevis and the Mamores directly in front). This was all memorable, and led steeply but directly back to the track and car for a perfect loop. A classic climb, classic circuit and a memorable day. At the car, I drove to Spean bridge for a pie which I ate in glorious sunshine looking straight out towards the Grey Corries at the Glengarry viewpoint, then enjoyed the always wonderful drive over to Skye and the Glen Brittle hut in wonderful weather.

Ben Vorlich

Peak: Ben Vorlich (985m)
Area: Loch Earn, Scotland
Almost unbelievably, here was another mountain, another country, and yet another blizzard to add to this spring's long list. I wanted to stretch my legs in the evening, breaking the long journey to Skye with a quick mountain run. This is something I have done many times over the years, and it works well. As such, Ben Vorlich was one of the few remaining obvious gaps for this kind of quick outing, and the drive from Strathyre round the quiet southern edge of Loch Earn was new to me. Northerly airflow has continued for days, and it was still cold as I headed from the shores of the loch up the track through Ardvorlich house (and Bodnant-style hill garden) towards the open hill. Ahead, Ben Vorlich had some high clag and streaks of snow from this week's falls. Behind, however, Ben More and Stobinian rose from shower clouds, glistening totally white and gleaming in the evening sunshine. I planned a quick ascent, although resisted breaking into a run given the likely exertions of the next few days - fortunately, this hill is perfect in that respect. A gentle climb through open woodland leads to the open hill above the pretty stream valley, Allt a Choire Bhuidhe, and views begin to open out to the north over the Perthshire peaks. Above, the track becomes a path and steepens considerably. Here, the rain started in earnest. Then, an all-too-familiar pattern as it gave way to sleet and then snow as I ascended. After a forepeak, the snow got quite heavy and the top was pretty hostile - heavy snow falling horizontally in a stiff northerly wind, eyebrows icing up. I got to the trig point in 56 minutes, decided not to continue to Stuc a'Chroin, and descended in very poor visibility and very cold temperatures. All my tracks had been covered by a thick fresh layer of snow. On regaining the woodland, the rain stopped and the clouds began to clear leaving Ben Vorlich completely white and radiant. This, however, marked the end of this year's bad weather luck - within less than 36 hours the temperature was nudging into the low 20s on the shore of Loch Slapin.

Craig Rhiwarth climbing

Crag: Craig Rhiwarth, Llangynog, Powys
Routes: Ivory Tower (HS 4b:led), Silwood (HS 4b:led), Right-Hand finish (HS 4b:led)
One of these days, I will have to stop dragging people to obscure crags in the remotest parts of Wales. Although I enjoy exploring esoteric corners and trying to do new things, it doesn't work all that well, as there is a price to be paid in terms of vegetation, dirt, brambles and frustration. Craig Rhiwarth had been on the list for some time, and proved all the usual points - in the sense that the short climbs are potentially very good, but lack of traffic means they sink into obscurity, a vicious circle (see also Craig Dinas, Crafnant, Cywarch and many more). To guard against this, Steve and I started off at bolted Llanymynech, although I fell off the 'warm-up', and all the big routes were busy, so we took this as a sign and headed for Llangynog down the beautiful Tanat Valley (previously visited by bike on the Wild Wales challenge, and the Berwyn traverse of 2016). There was method in the madness: it was Bank Holiday Monday, and this seemed the perfect way to avoid crowds and traffic. In that sense it worked, and it is all convenient: parking in the village and walking up the valley to the obvious crags. The problems come close to the left-hand crag; waist-deep brambles. But, I've known worse and hacked them away to establish a base camp. I led off up the obvious HS line (Ivory Tower) on the right of the crag, and this was an excellent start which proves the initial point. A steep and splendid layback crack leads to a giant flake. Then easier climbing moving left to a steeper crack with great holds before a few moves gain a vegetated finish up a mossy slab. A great little climb, and a great start, but sadly the day's highlight. I should have led one of its neighbours but instead we hacked around to the left of the crag where I led Silwood at the same grade. This, an obvious left-to-right weakness, looked innocuous from below. But the first few moves were steep and awkward and the entire climb was untravelled; I would guess it has only ever had a handful of ascents. Worse, all the vegetation was sharp brambles, and needed clearing by hand: painful. The climbing is easy above, with good gear once the cracks and flakes are excavated! Two good flakes lead to the finishing groove. I moved right at the top flake to take an obvious steep black groove: this was better protected than the normal finish, with much better climbing, steep but juggy all the way. Possibly the most blood I have ever shed on a route! From here, we moved to the right-hand buttress, which has a much easier approach, but sadly ran out of time. Another less than successful day, but useful in some ways: it would repay a return visit, as the routes (although short) are nice and the rock is excellent. Apart from this, it is such a beautiful spot at the top of the Tanat Valley, with ancient oak woodland and soft green hills all around, that it's a nice place to spend some time regardless.

Carneddau run

Peaks: Bera Mawr, Garnedd Uchaf, Foel Fras, Drum
Area: Carneddau, Eryri
This spring, I have experienced snowstorms in Tenerife, Croatia, Yorkshire, and now Snowdonia. It started off very nicely as we left early for this run. We were running up to Aber Falls before 8am, always a delightful time of year in these sessile oak woodlands, and at this time in the morning you get it all to yourself. We then headed west, then contoured up the lower slopes of Drosgl picking nice trods and paths every time, gaining height fast. Mist was melting away from the tops and prospects looked good for some nice weather for a change. As Peter emerged onto the Carneddau plateau, the cloud peeled off Moel Wnion behind and Llwytmor ahead. We skirted the top of Drosgl, then ploughed through the remote, shallow, tussocky valley that leads up to the chaotic rocky summit of Bera Mawr. I don't come here often, nor does anybody else, but it gives good entertainment, scrambling up walls and grooves to the true summit on a mini-ridge of rock. Tremendous views across to Llwytmor and Foel Fras with exceptional skyscapes. As we gained the contouring running round the head of Cwm Afon Goch, however, a big black cloud raced in from the Menai Strait. By Yr Aryg, it was cloudy and breezy, then light snow as we gained Garnedd Uchaf, then heavier snow as we joined the main Carneddau motorway to the summit of Foel Fras. The cloud came in and the snow got heavier - all very familiar this spring. Fast running across to Drum, then a real drenching as we ran down the main track (reversing the Foel Fras race route) to the steep tarmac down to Aber (tough, with the Fellsman still very much in my legs). The rain didn't stop until we reached the car: still well before 11am.

Penmaenbach climbing

Crag: Penmaenbach, Conwy
Routes: Agent Orange (f5c:led), Jefferson Slab (f5c:sec), Multicultural Slab (f5b:led), Helvic Wriggle (f6a:sec)
Cold and clear this bank holiday, so we headed for an efficient, ultra-brief trip to Conwy, walking to the crag from Sychnant at 4.30pm. I'd never climbed with Peter before, surprisingly, so we began with a couple of easy bolted routes on the upper tier, both of which I've done several times before. Agent Orange is nice, however, and a little steeper than most of the climbs here. A cold northerly blew, but I felt that some newly bolted routes near the main slab, lower down, would give more shelter (and I'd never climbed on this level before and fancied doing something new on this crag where I've done everything else in range). Most of the new routes look very scrappy, but they prove a little better in reality, and I quite enjoyed the slanting, disjointed f5b which takes a series of sloping walls and ledges to gain a vague left-slanting crack which leads to the top much further left. The 6a is a tad overgraded, but starts steeply then has a few technical moves to gain more disjointed wall and ledge action. Not too bad, but we were hungry and keen to enjoy a couple of pints in the Albion, so headed back to Sychnant in glorious crisp, clear evening sunshine: tremendous crystal clear views of the Orme.

The Fellsman

Race: The Fellsman (61m/12000ft)
Peaks: Ingleborough (724), Whernside (736), Gragareth (627), Green Hill (632), Great Coum (687), Blea Moor (535), Great Knoutberry (672), Dodd Fell (668), Buckden Pike (702), Great Whernside (704)
Area: Yorkshire Dales
Time/Position: 17.30 (89th from 322 starters [221 finishers])
Words like 'legendary' and 'unique' are overused, but tempting in the case of The Fellsman. A memorable outing which takes a beautiful line traversing all the main Yorkshire Dales peaks, most of which were entirely new to me - and with a sense of occasion, place, and history too (first run in 1962). So, very much my cup of tea, and I'd heard a lot about it from Peter and Dave who had both run it in 2015 (the year I ran the Yorkshire Three Peaks on the same day, another 'break' from the London marathon). Perfect timing, given the nature of this year and the fact I failed to qualify for what would have been my 9th London. After a meal at the pub in Threshfield, I slept in the car and we got the last bus to Ingleton at 6.30am after breakfast. The forecast was poor, after a baking-hot Easter weekend, although it was just light drizzle as we set off from Ingleton at 8.30am, up Fell Lane to the claggy top of Ingleborough, perhaps the shapeliest of all the Dales peaks. From here, the route descends the Three Peaks 'staircase', steeply down to Hill Inn via nice limestone scenery. Having done the Three Peaks twice (once on the race four years ago, once as a walker in 1988!) I knew this section in reverse, and I enjoyed the climb up to the day's highpoint of Whernside via Broadrake and a contouring shortcut, still feeling very fresh after a relaxed week saving as much energy as possible for this journey into the unknown. A lovely descent all the way down the ridge of Whernside to High Pike, all the way to West Fell, although the weather closed in with painful hail giving way to rain as we descended down to Kingsdale for the first proper feeding station. After a flapjack, the rain was hammering down for the steep climb up to Gragareth. I felt it might be set in for the day, a dismal prospect, but actually it cleared on top of Gragareth to give wonderful conditions for the next section, which was one of the day's highlights - north along Blakemaye, a broad ridge to climb over Green Hill and then Great Coum. This was tremendous, in shifting mist and strong winds, with wonderful views in all directions: black clouds over some hills, bright sunshine over others. We could see across to the Lancashire coast, and over the Howgills, with Whernside and the rest of the Dales emerging from the clag. Dramatic skies. We were both feeling good, and took the long descent from the hills towards beautiful Dentdale in our stride, even the rocky and awkward Flinter Gill which leads to the cobbled streets of Dent and the end of the first section. It hammered down as we sheltered under the cooking tent, wolfing down cheese pasties, sausages, melons and biscuits. The rain continued for the first of the day's two road sections, which doesn't last long, heading east up Dentdale to Rigg End before joining a steep track round the shoulder of Whernside to gain a beautiful contouring soft grassy track suspended above Dentdale - relaxation and respite - before a tussocky, awkward descent to Little Dale Beck in a tremendous sunburst as the weather began to clear from the west. Things were looking good; we were around halfway, both Peter and I felt good, and we ran off the top of Blea Moor in good spirits. This section had looked arbitrary on the map, but it is actually a brilliant way of taking in all the main summits. A steam train emerged from the tunnel as we dropped down the Dales Way towards Stonehouse: the famous Settle-Carlisle line hugs the hillside here. A long descent, hard running, down the road to Stonehouse and a grand feed including pasta! It was still sunny, but we began to hear rumours of approaching bad weather: a blow to morale, as things looked so promising. The rumours proved correct: it clouded over for the next climb up Hengill Beck to Cross Pits and the steep out-and-back climb to the summit of Great Knoutberry. The cloudbase stayed mercifully high for the tricky section over the featureless moor and bog of Arten Gill down to the road at Redshaw, another famous Fellsman checkpoint. Another big feed, ballast for the bogs of Snaizeholme - deep and cloying - which came next. Above, a gentler section, more respite, as the Ribble Way is joined. Behind, approaching weather - a big black cloud with the wind picking up as we reached Cam High road and the Pennine Way. A violent hailstorm hit - unpleasant at this stage of affairs - and the temperature dropped. We were now in a group of 7 or 8, which was fortunate, as the climb up Dodd Fell is not at all obvious, above the Widdale Valley to the north. A bleak, featureless, hostile summit and a remarkable feat of marshalling in these conditions. The hail eased to sleet, then rain as we made our way down to the road and the legendary Fleet Moss checkpoint. This is 600 metres up, and the weather was at its worst: torrential rain and sleet as we sheltered and put on the rest of our clothes. Everybody was soaking, taking in litres of tea, bean stew and lots more with the tent battered from all sides: memorable stuff. I'd been so optimistic at Stonehouse, but leaving Fleet Moss I was furious: thinking my appalling 2019 weather luck had struck again. I felt fine physically, but knew that the triple combination of rain, wind and darkness would make life very hard for the final section - Peter was not in the best of spirits either. That said, the next section was re-routed down the valley for access reasons, and although it extended things and added a long road section, it had one great benefit today in that we lost height rapidly and gained the shelter of Langstrothdale, where the rain got lighter and the temperatures warmer. Cue improved morale! We passed the hamlet of Oughtershaw then gained the top section of Wharfedale, psychologically crucial as it feels like you're heading home (probably nearly 20 miles away over several peaks, but no matter). Two goosander took flight from the Wharfe. Finally, we gained the new checkpoint at Yockenthwaite (wonderful Norse name), then climbed up towards Middle Tongue, savage at this stage in proceedings but enlivened by a truly wonderful clearance: shafts of sunshine to the west, a rainbow over Hell's Gap. My pleasure at this was short-lived, however, as I'd been following a northerly bearing to the next CP but there was no sign as we emerged onto Yockenthwaite moor, a bleak spot indeed. This was a problem, the biggest navigational issue of the day, and not ideal this far into the race under darkening skies with night approaching. Buckden Pike was clear of cloud across the valley - we still had a very long way to go. Another runner joined us, and thought the CP was hidden in a trough much further left: this was indeed where we eventually found it, more like a mountain marathon CP and a function of the diversion. Peter fell back at this point, as the light faded for the long traverse over the awkward terrain of Cray Moss to Hells Gate, then down the track to Cray as darkness fell. This, for me, is where the event really takes on its special character: it was cold as I dined on soup and coffee, waiting to form a group of four, which is a Fellsman requirement as soon as night falls. It took around 20 minutes for this to happen, and then our group left: it was a good one. I'd run with Saul from Middle Tongue, and we were joined by Sharon and Richard, who both had detailed local knowledge, so we took an excellent weaving path that eventually joined the main route up Buckden Pike. I loved this section: it was magical, with the lights of other teams twinkling distantly in front, and a frieze of stars emerging above as the weather cleared and the temperature dropped. Very fortunate timing. Great views to the lights of Darlington and Teeside to the north from the summit of Buckden. Then good running, still feeling good, down to Starbotton Road, then around and up to Park Rash and the final big feeding checkpoint. Another great climb up Great Whernside, the final peak, via Blackfell top, which was short and sharp. Although I'd enjoyed nearly all of it, I was ready to finish at times during the final descent, which is very long and tussocky in places (and the mist came down unexpectedly again for a while, making life difficult). It was now after midnight, with a hard frost forming in the pools of light from our torches, breath condensing in long plumes. Red beacons mark the checkpoints but it is impossible to judge distance as they appear then disappear depending on terrain. One of our quartet started to suffer, and slowed considerably on the long trek south to Capplestone Gate, and the run for home took on a surreal feel as fatigue sets in. Eventually, we reached the road at Yarnbury, after which the group is allowed to break up; I ran the final section, pushed on by another group of five who caught us up as we slowed, down Moor Lane road to the silent sleeping streets of Grassington and through to the finish at Threshfield school. An excellent chilli, eating staring into space, then a bus trip to the quarry car park and a somewhat uncomfortable second car boot bivouac. Next day dawned clear and sunny, inevitably.

Moelwyn Traverse

Peaks: Clogwyn Bwlch y Maen, Carnedd Cribau, Cerrig Cochion, Moel Meirch, Ysgafell Wen, Moel Llyn Cwn, Moel Druman, Cnicht
Area: Moelwynion, Eryri
A perfect way to avoid the Bank Holiday hordes while also reccying a crucial Paddy Buckley leg: a nice way to exploit the weather, which has been exceptional this Easter. I parked by Llyn Lockwood and struck straight up the tussocky, trackless hillside towards the Moelwyn ridge as it drops down from Siabod. Virtually nobody ever comes here, but it actually allows for the tops to be gained quickly (as they are all quite low). I have done this route in reverse (from Croesor) but never this way round, and these peaks are probably the least trodden in central Snowdonia - even I have only been up them a handful of times. It was still fairly early, well before 9am, with a low sun and a cooling breeze (which was strong in places). Tremendous views of the Snowdon Horseshoe, and an easy little diversion to Clogwyn Bwlch y Maen. From here, Carnedd Cribau is just off the fence line and has some lovely pools to lend interest to photos of Yr Wyddfa. Then a long haul across empty terrain, rocky and awkward in places, eventually gains the bwlch above Dolwyddelan and the barely detectable peak of Cerrig Cochion, one of the Paddy 47. The next hill, Moel Meirch, is one of the finest spots anywhere in Eryri, and yet I've only been up a couple of times. A mini-Inn Pinn forms the summit, with little outcrops and lakes all around. Below lies Llyn Edno, a beautiful sight in this weather, then a slightly complex route up Ysgafell Wen which leaves the fence line, hugs the lake, then strikes up hard-to-read slopes to a complex summit. The ridge then opens out as the main Moelwynion come into view, with Moelwyn Bach looking very distant from here. This section is all gloriously runnable, although the weather began to cloud over. The ridge kinks left and climbs Moel Druman. I missed Allt Fawr out then scoped out the obvious combination over the higher Moelwyns before plunging into the lumpy and complex terrain between Cwm Orthin and Cnicht. The Paddy route skirts the bottom of the lakes, crossing at Llyn Cwm Foel, a tiny reservoir, before making an intricate ascent of Cnicht - very steep in places, presumably exceptionally arduous if a Llanberis start to the round had been made. I had seen nobody all day, an Easter Monday, so the summit of Cnicht was a shock - over a dozen walkers. I left it quickly for the wonderful, very fast (tailwind) run to Llyn yr Adar. I've swam here in the past - another one of Eryri's finest lakes, high up and quite remote. I ran round the shore to pop through a little col and gain the wonderful path that contours above Llyn Llagi to emerge in Nantmor at the hamlet and tiny lane that runs through this valley. At the sharp bend, where I've pranged the car in the past, I cut north along a track (new to me) that runs parallel to Gwynant but avoids the road and takes a direct line through woods to eventually emerge above the lake. A short section on the main road by the lakeside, then I cut through the Gwynant campsite and eventually joined the old track up the valley (descended on the Snowdonia marathon). I'd only eaten three wagon wheels all day, so was a little depleted on emerging at PyG and Llyn Lockwood.