(11th September, 2010)
Lledr House, near Betws-y-coed, Wales
Today I became 'Lady MacDuff' ... I made it to the peak of Mount Snowdon, and down again! The stroll really at the start was soft on my feet, until we got more of a stone pathway. Then the going got a little bit tougher. I slipped down to photograph a gushing rapid, and almost lost my tripod, camera and myself into the fast-flowing water!
I joined back up with the group, and with their practice of walking up hills and mountains in the cooler air, I was soon lagging behind. Because of that, they put me in front to leader, and dropped their pace to suit mine. Listening to the chat behind me, with Iain's soft scottish accent, and the various english accents, helped me to breath slower and keep my breathe as the walk steepened and the climb became harder.
It was like walking up a stream running over my boots! The rain and wind came down the higher we hiked, and water began as a trickle and turned into a stream. My boots had their breaking-in in the best way possible - water, rocks, hiking and cold! There was a man who was wearing sandals, short shorts, a cotton long-sleeve top and not much else, who had a beard to his belly, full of dreadlocks, and white dreads down his back, full of knots and sticks and leaves from when he laid down on the ground. He looked like the mountain guru, taking a group of followers up the mountain to pray. We past him and his followers and they past us several times in the day, until they were lost in the clouds that covered everything in sight.
Upon the ridge we stopped at for lunch, I became 'Madam MacDuff', looked over a long lake, with the mountain peaks looming around us as we ate. Iain took a photo of me climbing up the rocks, over looking the lake in the valley below. As Madam MacDuff, we continued up the mountain, until we got to about 800 meters, where the terrain became harder and turned into a scramble up to the peak. I slipped at one point, and felt like if I could see how far up I was, I would have slipped a lot further!
The peak was over run with runny-nosed children, fashionably dressed women, and poor dogs who looked miserable... There is a train that takes people from the base of the mountain, to the peak... silly sausages! They looked totally out of place with all the trekkers and hikers trudging up the peak, myself included!
The return to the bottom of the mountain saw us ridge walking - hiking along the top of the ridge to return to the bottom of the mountain. Along the way, Eleanor slipped on a rock and got muddy, and I twisted my ankle on another slippery rock. It then became slippery, and rockier, and Iain, in his very enthusiastic manner, piped up 'we're almost out of the rocks Kael, then it will be like walking on carpet!'
It was NOT like walking on carpet!! The twisted ankle became very sore, the knees began clicking, and swollen, and sore, and the carpet of grass that was promised was not what it seemed. It was more painful than stone, as my legs began to ache with each step.
There was a quaint little bridge, with a sheep looking to cross, and it felt like 'The Three Billy Goats', and we were the trolls, scaring the sheep away. I loved ever minute of the hike, even with the pain and breathlessness that came along with the hike! Even with the the gusty winds, the stark, grey light and rain, rolled ankles and laughter with each fall, it was an amazing time. I recommend it to anyone, and everyone!
No comments:
Post a Comment