Ridge scrambling and tea with fat people

The Nantlle Ridge is reputed to be one of the finest ridge walks in Wales and it didn't disappoint. Paul T and Dave H, headed up on a Wednesday evening to stay at the Cwellyn Arms for a couple of nights. Whilst the bar itself was a touch 1970s, the beer and food was good and the rooms were lovely - they also have a farmhouse, a bunkhouse and a campsite (complete with fire pits) up the road. It also had the advantage of being at the foot of both the Nantlle Ridge in one direction and the Rhyd Ddu path up Snowdon the other.

After a typically large breakfast we headed straight out of the pub and after a short stroll on paths, we went straight up onto the ridge - doing most of the climbing for the day in one go. The weather was somewhat confused and was largely unable to decide whether to obscure us in cloud or bathe us in weak sunshine.

Having reached the top of Y Garn (no, not that one) we headed along the ridge which was a combination of walking on grassy paths and then scrambling up and over intermediate peaks. Think of it as Crib Goch with breaks in between and less risk of death (all the scrambling can be avoided if you really want to - but where's the fun in that?). All together we crossed 6 peaks and even swung past a large obelisk erected in honour of Queen Victoria (check the photos if you don't believe us). The scrambling meant it was slow progress.

Having walked the length of the ridge, unlike most sane people who descend towards the coast and the road and get a taxi, we had decided to descend the other way into a valley occupied only by hardy farmers (as it is a long way from anywhere). Avoiding the hidden cliffs of Graig Las beneath us we followed a stream down to a farm and joined a metalled track up the valley. In the course of walking back up the valley we encountered an aggressive dog which was chained up and a group of slightly less aggressive cows. Dave H demonstrated his animal whispering skills by talking to all of them and, as a result, they just stared at him. Tav ignored them and promptly got chased (if it hadn't been for the chain). Paul T and livestock is not a good combination.

This was turning out to be a slighty longer walk than envisaged as we slogged back up the valley through a deserted slate mine complete with reservoir and a very deep damp cave with dire warning signs. We, of course, chose to investigate and with the aid of one head torch attempted to peer down the chasm without actually getting anywhere near it. A right pair of heroes us.

We carried on climbing out of the valley and the descended through forest to appear near the foot of the ridge. Thereafter it was a stroll back to the pub for well earned beer and grub. All up, the 22km and 1300 metre of ascent took us 8 hours 45 minutes - one of our slowest tours we believe.

As we supped a post walk beer a couple wandered in who had managed to come down the wrong side of Snowdon (really impressive given the sign posting on the top and entirely different type of path - see below). The pub handed over the much used number of the taxi firm that makes its living by giving people a lift back round to Pen y Pass.

The following day was planned as a gentler stroll up Snowdon from the less used south side. Dave H reckoned he hadn't been up it for 20 years and neither of us had done it from the South. We headed up the Rhyd Ddu path which, despite yesterday's exertions, we sprinted up. Well, we overtook a pair of OAPs and bunch of blokes who were looking lost before they got off the flat bit. After some meandering, the path headed up to take us up to above Llechog and fine views of both Cwm Clogwyn below and the cafe up above which seems to blend in a lot better than previously (not that Dave H could even remember a cafe). The final ascent up to the summit across Bwlch Main is delightfully airy with surprisingly big drops all around. The path is fine but if half the lot that headed up the Pyg track from the other side came up here, they would either freeze, die or both. The summit was full of the normal mix of well equipped walkers, poorly equipped walkers, shockingly equipped walkers and the fat people that had come up on the train.

A quick wander up to the high point where Paul T had to assist a young lady up on top of what used to be the trig point. Rather bizarrely, her friend who had come up (presumably) the Pyg track with her refused to climb the remaining 10 feet (on steps) to the high point as she was scared of heights - a mountain nearly climbed.

After an entirely non Bear Grylls style cup of tea and a sausage roll in the cafe, we headed off down the Ranger Path, waved at the train and at about three quarters of the way down took a path left across the face of the mountain towards the Pub. Whilst a bit damp underfoot, we crossed rivers, headed through more derelict mine workings and made it back to the pub before heading off back home. Day 2 was definitely more gentle at 15.2km, 991m of ascent and only a touch over 5 hours.

Both days were accompanied to the sound of Paul T's singing and Dave H's muttering that the ground was too hard to hide the body anywhere....