Snowdon/Yr Wyddfa

October 8, 2023

Unseasonably warm temperatures and unusually clear skies were the forecast today; great day for a hike to the high point of Wales. The Llanberis trail (from the town of the same name) was the longest trail to the summit of Mt. Snowdon (Yr Wyddfa in Welsh), with the greatest elevation gain, but also the safest (1). After sorting the pay & display parking (2), I bought a hiking stick at the cog railway station (3).

The first part of the hike is on an exceptionally steep paved road leading to sheep farms. We both hoped the whole trail would not be this steep. We soon left the pavement through a metal gate (4) and began hiking the well-maintained gravel and stone path. Given the high latitude we were soon above tree line at a relatively low altitude (5). The number of people who had already been to the summit today and were already all the way back down was surprising.

At the beginning, we largely kept pace with two burley brothers (the red beard guys), and their thin friend (with the yellow backpack). The trail had steep sections, moderated by shallower parts, with the cog railway never far away. Crossing under the railway (about 1/3 up) the halfway house heartened us and we stopped for fruit cake and soda to replenish our energy.

A long steep section into a moderate headwind followed, and we made an extended stop after the next railway underpass. The trail steepened further as we very slowly plodded our way up the steepest part of the climb. Sitting trailside to catch our breath, a descending hiker told us the trail grade moderated not far ahead and that the effort was worth it.

Soon, red beard brothers and yellow backpack (whom we had not seen in a while) appeared. I scarfed down some ham slices, opened my stick (6) and with renewed energy, headed up. As promised, the trail grade slackened not too far ahead. Soon, a number of other trails merged with the Llanberis for the final push to the summit, which was visible in the near distance.

Being a warm and clear Sunday, the small summit point was crowded, with a counter-clockwise queue to get to the small summit marker. A few hikers trying to sneak up the narrow down path (or who were simply too oblivious to notice the queue) were shamed by the crowd. While not obsessed with selfies, we didn't want to come this far and not make it to the summit, so we waited in the queue (7). Red beard & Co. were just below the summit marker pouring a libation into metal cups and toasting their success.

The railway summit station offers snacks, coffee, postcards and a mailbox where your mail can be stamped "Summit of Snowdon." We partook of all three. A mother was telling her daughter (who had hiked up): "We would have to wait more than two hours to take the train down, we can walk down faster than that." I couldn't help wondering if Mom may not have even enquired about the train, but just wanted the kid to suck it up (8).

Descending, we kept pace with a young family with two boys, all wearing blue shirts. When the boys tried to stop, I heard the mother say "Remember, Gran is going to give you a tenner if you finish."

As we returned to the paved road, we saw sheep in an enclosure running, while a shepherd called out (in Welsh) and flung his arms and staff about and a sheep dog corralled the stragglers. The road/trail had been closed off between two gates to allow the sheep to cross. While a group of us paused to watch, the shepherd asked us to move away, as the sheep were afraid to cross with strangers nearby.

All tolled today, a total hiking distance of 9 1/2 miles, with a 3,235 foot elevation gain (a personal record).

Back at the car, we decided to go out of our way back to the hotel on Anglesey. The hotel was an old manor house in the middle of nowhere. More importantly, there were spa facilities. My wife convinced the clerk to let us use the facilities again (even though we had checked out this morning) where our tired muscles had a good, hot soak.

On the drive back to Liverpool, the lighted castle walls at Conwy beckoned us off the motorway. A delicious pub meal (and rhubarb hard cider) in this ancient walled city was a nice way to end the trip

(1) The other trails have sections near cliffs, not for the first timer to Snowdon.

(2) £12, coins only. I had £11, 70 p.

(3) With their pointy ends, hiking sticks are not allowed on aircraft.

(4) These gates are common on Welsh trails, with signs to close the gate behind you. Some have a loop and swing gate, easy for a person to figure out, but beyond the ken of sheep, who lack opposable thumbs anyway.

(5) I had assumed there was a clear and understood relationship between latitude and the elevation at tree-line; I was wrong. An article in Nature states: "There is no uniform relationship between treeline position and latitude," and that the complex relationship "still eludes ecologists." Berdanier, A. B. (2010) Global Treeline Position. Nature Education Knowledge 3(10):11

(6) Hiking sticks can help in an ascent, giving a pivot point and engaging the upper arms. I had been hesitant to use my recently-purchased stick due to right shoulder surgery this summer, but found a stick in my left hand (plus the ham and moderating trail steepness) made a big difference.

(7) The young couple behind us chuckled at our conversation about this, as I tried to take the second selfie. "It's a generational thing" I said to the 20-something couple. After explaining how our camera (not phone) worked, they were kind enough to take our picture at the summit marker. Most groups handed their phones to the group behind them for a picture.

(8) While a one way ticket is possible, the trains were quite full today with round-trippers. The railway warns hikers not to count on availability of descent tickets: "If you hike up, be prepared to hike down."

Halfway house was located halfway (distance wise) but only about 40% up with respect to the elevation gain

(Note the Irish Sea in the distance)

Ascending

Steeper sections

View of Llyn Cwellyn in the distance, where we picnicked yesterday

Nearing the summit

Queuing for the summit marker

Views from the summit

The summit queue got long in the early afternoon

On the descent

The cog railway underpass

Sheep flocks are marked with colors

The sheep eyed us warily, afraid to cross

Two lane road on Anglesey

Conwy Castle

Conwy city gate

View of a glacier on Greenland on the flight home

The Ffestiniog Railway

October 7, 2023

Plan A for today was a hike Snowdon, the tallest peak in Wales. While some clearing was expected, the forecast for gale force wind gusts (50+ mph) at the summit dissuaded us, so we opted to drive over to Porthmadog for a scenic train ride. We pulled into the parking lot for Welsh Highlands Heritage Railway station (1) and was informed that we wanted the Welsh Highlands Railway across town; of course.

We opted for the 3 1/2 hour round trip up to the old slate mining town of Ffestiniog, "The town that roofed the world." After a quick stop for take-away coffee and breakfast to bring on the train (2), the diminutive 2-foot gauge steam train chuffed over the causeway into the station, where men in 19th century top hats and women in hoop skirts milled about. This weekend was "Bygone Days" on the Welsh railway, and some participants were really in the spirit.

On the train, we chatted with a gentleman from Manchester, who had been riding the line since he was a kid. He could not place my accent, probably because my voice was a bit raspy (3). At the eastern end of the causeway was Boston Lodge, where the engines and railcars were built.

The line was originally powered by gravity, with the tiny (but heavy) slate-filled cars rolling to the sea with a man blowing a trumpet or cornet in the front car. The empty railcars were hauled back up by ponies. Many extra trains were running for Bygone Days, even a gravity train with a few people sitting in tiny cars on slabs of slate rolling downhill.

The clearances on the cuts were very close on the narrow right of way. The engine was a Double Fairlie, articulated in the middle to negotiate the narrow curves (4).

The only 360° rail line in the UK (where the train loops over its own line) and a dry stone bridge from the 1830s were pointed out by our companion from Manchester. He also told us his father used to take them as kids to the penultimate stop (with free parking!), from where they would hike down about three miles, then take the train back. Family tradition had the youngest (as early as 4 years old) flag down the passing train, while the rest of the family hid in the station building. The perfect Sunday outing according to his father: cheap and the kids were tired out. He has continued the tradition with his own children.

At Ffestiniog, we saw some peaks of sun, before descending back to Porthmadog

For variety, we took the more inland route driving back toward Anglesey. The narrow road ascended to Beddgellert (5), then through Snowdonia National Park, past grand vistas, with occasional glimpses of the mountain tops. We enjoyed a modest picnic near Llyn Cwelyn with sheep grazing on the shore, while the highlands steam trains hooted through.

(1) In the same location as the Porthmadog Transport for Wales station. The rusty coating on the mainline tracks reminded me that construction on the line eliminated the possibility of a seaside train journey today.

(2) My first (but not last) pork pie. Basically a slice of a tube of processed pork product about 2 inches in diameter, tasting something like Spam, surrounded by flaky pie crust.

(3) "Froggy" I said to describe my voice. "Oh, you must be from Louisiana," he quipped.

(4) Two other engines are named Lloyd George and Palmerston. "The dead Liberal Prime Minister class engines," said the man from Manchester.

(5) The "Grave of Gellert" in Welsh. Legend has it that King Llewelyn went hunting one day, leaving his dog Gellert to protect his young son. A wolf (a) attacked the son in his cradle, but was killed by the faithful dog. When Llewelyn returned, he saw the overturned cradle and his dog covered in blood. Assuming the dog had killed his son, the king slew the dog. He was soon brokenhearted when he discovered the truth: his son was safe, and the Gellert had defended the family by killing the wolf.

(a) Wolves are extinct in the UK. "The fiercest animal you're likely to encounter now is a badger or an angry squirrel" a local told us later.

The train arrives at Porthmadog

Distinctive rail propulsion

Around the bend

Period costume, but not hair dye

Cottage accessible only by foot or rail.

William Joyce summered in the cottage in the interwar years before moving to Germany and broadcasting Nazi propaganda as "Lord Haw Haw"

Over the tracks on 360° turn

At Ffestiniog. Note both narrow and standard gauge lines.

Double Fairlie engine

Spooner's boat

I asked the riders if it was fun; "Great fun" came the reply.

The crew recreated the railcar from old pictures to better understand its function. 

The reconstruction raised more questions than answers. 

Crossing guard

Boston Lodge

Feeding the engine back at Porthmadog

The afternoon highlands train ready to depart.

Note women in period costume to the right of the engine.

Porthmadog Harbor

at Llyn Cwellyn

Clouds lift from Snowdon, view from Llyn Cwellyn

The road and railway near Llyn Cwellyn

20 mph sign at dusk

Holyhead, Wales

October 7, 2023

A cheap flight was on offer to Liverpool, so my wife and I took Friday off before the October holiday for a 4-day weekend in Wales (1). Holyhead is about a 2 hour drive from Liverpool. The ferries from Ireland arrive here, the nearest Harbor in Britain to Dublin. 

The city, and the rocky headland, are on the western edge of Anglesey Island in Northwest Wales. A seaside trail beckoned, and we went for a short stroll passing dogs gleefully chasing balls on verdant fields, while we enjoyed views to secluded coves. The wet slippery rocks dissuaded us from venturing too far toward the landfall light on the headland  

I pondered why the place was called Holyhead, thinking perhaps there was a shape like a cross or something. A local we chatted with later told us simply that a monastery had been located there as early as the 6th Century (1), hence the name. He suggested we visit the northeast of the island where there was an extant monastery from the 500s (2).

(1) In transit at Keflavik, Iceland, I noticed a large number of people with Buffalo Bills shirts on; the team were playing this weekend in London. Enquiring of a Bills fan on the return transit whether they had won, a curt "Oh, no" was the reply.

(2) He also said that the nascent Royal Air Force established its first air base on Anglesey during the first World War due to the prevalence of good weather on the island allowed for more flying time: "We have more clear days than anyplace else in the UK." Another local within earshot, who had recently moved to Anglesey from Newcastle, was dubious.

(3) My wife noted that Anglesey was roughly mitten shaped. While the local had not noticed this before, he went along with it, describing the location of the monastery as being "on the thumb."

Near the trailhead

Where the dogs were running flat out.

View to a cove

Wet rocky path