13/02/05 - Sunday morning dawned bright with prospects for a good walking day and after a two hour drive from home I parked on the verge near the start of the walk not far from Cefn-ddwysarn on the A 494. From the car the walk led up a narrow tarmac lane to a remote farm nestling at the foot of the hillside, I crossed the farmyard warily keeping my eye on collie dogs that were watching me closely, I was relieved to climb the stile and set of up the track which led to open country. The sky above was blue with scudding clouds and a strong wind and there was a light dusting of snow which served to accentuate the contours of the mountain, the path followed the stream climbing steadily, occasionally I came across fresh footprints in the snow  and it was reassuring to know that I was not completely alone. I scanned the surrounding hillside for other walkers but could see no-one. The ridge was ahead and I plodded slowly uphill occasionally pausing to rest and to admire the view. I was heading north onto the ridge and then I would bear west over the summit of Foel Goch 2005ft and then the plan was to carry on along the ridge for just over a mile to the summit of Garnedd Fawr, after this the route was down the shoulder of Foel Fach heading due south and then south east back to near the farm and my car.

 As I reached the ridge I realised I was on the wrong side of the fence and somehow I must have lost the path on the climb uphill, the dusting of snow although not deep obscured the faint track that I had been following. I re-crossed the fence and followed it uphill to where I could see the summit cairn and trig point in the distance, the northerly wind grew stronger and I had difficulty walking in a straight line, I stopped to put my cagoule and balaclava on, the wind was icy and spindrift was stinging my face and I had to keep my face turned away from the wind as I was having difficulty seeing my route ahead.

I reached the summit and after photographing the trig point I dropped down the hillside a few yards into a hollow to study my map, the wind was getting stronger and my instinct was to drop down the slope of the hill and retrace my route back to the car, however I decided to carry on along the ridge as originally planned.

I set off and as I walked I looked to the north, all I could see was a darkening storm with snow clouds heading towards me, the wind was horrendous but I fixed my sights on the ridge ahead and the distant summit which was now becoming lost in the driving snow. I could see the slope on my left and was tempted to walk down it out of the wind but kept telling myself that it would not be long before I got there and then I would be able to turn south and get the wind behind me. Visibility was down to a hundred yards and it was impossible to look north because of the windblown snow driving across the ridge. After another fifteen minutes I reached the summit cairn and it was with a sense of relief that I was able to turn south and head down the slope alongside the fence. I paused to check my GPS for a compass bearing, it was impossible to even think about checking my map as it would have been torn away from my grasp in seconds. My bearing was confirmed and I continued to head south and downhill glad to have the wind behind me, the snow was around 4 inches deep and blanketed the hillside covering the tussock grass and heather, I walked carefully anxious not to slip or twist an ankle in such inhospitable conditions. Through the snowstorm I could make out the slope and see that there was a stream flowing down and winding its way back and forth across the moor. By this time I was becoming tired of the fight but knew that I had to keep heading downhill, it was the only way to get back to the safety of the valley.  I knew that on the western side there was a forest on the hillside and on the east there was my original route uphill, as long as I headed south and then south east and kept between those two parameters I would be heading in the right direction.

I paused several times to rest realising that I had not stopped for food or my hot flask but decided that conditions were too bad to even think about trying to unpack my rucksack to get sustenance. I peered ahead as I walked across the moor land and could see through the swirling snow that the valley appeared to be curving around to my left. Ahead I could see the hillside sloping upwards, no forest was in sight and I desperately wanted to stop and have a thorough review of exactly where I was but I decided I had to have confidence in my own abilities. Have faith I kept telling myself I am sure I’m right. All the time I was being buffeted by the gale force winds at my back and my boots were starting to feel damp through the continual stepping into pools hidden in the sodden moor land.

After what seemed ages the ground steepened as I picked my way slowly downhill trying not to slip on the snowy hillside, by this time the stream on my right had grown considerably and was now around five feet wide I paused and ahead I could see a straight line coming down the hillside on my left, it was a dry stone wall. A sense of relief swept over me as I realised the significance, walls sloping downhill could only lead to some sort of farmstead in this remote valley. I next saw sheep feeding on the hillside and in the distance were tracks of farm vehicles that had been out tending the flock in these atrocious conditions. I climbed several barbed wire fences careful not to snag my clothing, jumped several tributaries to the main stream and soon I was on level ground alongside the main stream sheltered by trees from the strong winds.

Ahead I could see the farm that I had passed alongside about four hours earlier, I checked my map now I was a bit more sheltered and concluded that there was no right of way from the direction I was walking but decided to carry on through the farm yard. As I rounded a corner a voice called out, “Are you lost” Yes I replied I hope you don’t mind me walking through but I have just come down off Foel Goch and got lost in the storm. The lady replied that’s OK, we exchanged comments about the weather. I must have looked a strange sight, balaclava askew, soggy gloves clutching my walking pole, snow lodged in the folds of my clothes. I bade farewell and carried on across the farmyard only to be chased by the two collies that had ignored me previously. They definitely did not approve of strangers approaching from the wrong direction, for several minutes as I walked there was much shouting and waving of my walking pole as I sought to prevent my legs from being bitten. It was with relief that I reached the farm gate and quickly went through to safety. A tarmac road led down the hillside between trees and back to my car. I paused and looked back up at the storm swept mountain. A feeling of pride swept over me as I thought, that was an exciting and exhilarating walk. All the time I felt I was within my capabilities. I was tested by the storm and won.   

David Preston