More running last weekend, this time over Snowdonia’s high point as part of a longer day on the Saturday. Greg and I started from Pen-y-Gwryd in glorious sunshine and ran over Moel Berfedd to Pen-y-Pass. From there it was over the Horns to Crib Goch (incidentally, the Horns are lovely!). We despatched Crib Goch with aplomb, passing most of the morning crowds on the approach and therefore getting the ridge itself mostly to ourselves. Warm in the sun, but cool in the breeze, the weather couldn’t decide what it was doing all day. Continuing up Crib y Ddisgyl to Carnedd Ugain we could see the summit of Snowdon getting busy. A quick stop at the top and then down to Bwlch Cwm Llan, before climbing once more to Yr Aran. Nice to get some views (I was in cloud last time), before the long descent to the campsite.
Sunday saw us take up arms for round two of the battle with the Welsh countryside. It’s fair to say that the countryside definitely took the upperhand to begin with. Parking at Aberglaslyn, we aimed for Yr Arddu on our way to Cnicht. Calling the terrain around Yr Arrdu a “godforsaken wasteland” is probably going a bit far, but it’s definitely rubbish for running! We finally escaped the heather and made it up onto Cnicht. A great run down to Llyn yr Adar was followed by continuing undulation in a northwards direction for the rest of the day. The arrival of snow at Moel Merch, despite it being warm enough to run just in a vest, imbued us with a renewed sense of urgency, and it was with relief that I pulled up onto the last big summit of the day, Carnedd y Cribau. Another fast drop, this time to Pen-y-Pass, saw us once more waiting an inordinate amount of time for a Sherpa bus back to the car.
Brownie points were earned by giving a lift to an old lady who’d tried to walk a bit further than her aging legs could carry her; with a good deed for the day done, we headed home. I leave you with some quotes from Greg, arranged in order of how amusing I found them:
- (Running along Crib Goch): “Well if you fell from here, you’d really only graze your knees.“
- (This might be my new mantra when trudging along knackered under inhospitable weather): “Still snowing, still going.“
- (On approaching crags below Yr Arddu. Rudest comment of the weekend): “It’s almost *too* nice to be Welsh.“