If I were a model father, I would kick a ball with my son, but I can’t kick in
a straight line. So we go to the mountains instead. Skiing is the most
immediately exciting, pleasurable treat, but it requires lots of snow and
lots of money; when those ingredients are not available, we go hill-walking.
Edmond was five when we first explored the Welsh hills together, eight when he
reached his first respectable summit. Until recently, we had stuck to the
quieter parts of central Wales, but when he turned 11 this summer, I thought
it might be fun to try Tryfan — one of the grander, more famous mountains in
Snowdonia.
The first sight of Tryfan never fails to induce a quickening of the pulse.
Driving up the Holyhead road from Capel Curig towards the Ogwen Valley, the
landscape is at first disappointingly bleak and shapeless. Then, suddenly,
from behind the rounded bulk of an intervening hill, it appears — rocky,
jagged and elemental, with two unmistakable monoliths, Adam and Eve,
silhouetted far, far above you, on its highest, central summit: Tryfan.
The north face boasts some famous rock climbs: for hillwalkers, the most
exciting route is the North Ridge, starting from a lay-by on the A5. We
parked there and my wife, Rosie, helped Edmond lace his boots while I packed
map, compass, spare clothes, waterproofs, drinks and sandwiches in a small
rucksack. Then we said goodbye and I pointed Edmond over the stile and onto
the mountain.
“Oh no, there’s a path!” was his first, disappointed response. The stone
steps, engineered so lovingly by Snowdonia’s tireless conservationists, did
seem a little tame, but I tried to explain that the alternative — gouged
earth scars, increasingly prevalent on popular hill walks — was even less
satis- factory. In any case, the steps soon petered out as dividing trails
lost themselves in a tangle of rock, heather and bilberry.
The bilberries were purple, bursting ripe, and Edmond insisted on stopping to
harvest every single bush. I longed to get a steady rhythm going and
muttered impatiently that we had a mountain to climb. But the boy was not
going to be rushed, and after a while I persuaded myself to relax: after
all, this was supposed to be fun, not a race. And the bilberries were
delicious.
LIKE ALL the best mountain routes, Tryfan’s North Ridge reveals its secrets
gradually. The lower part is rather meandering and amorphous, with no view
of the summit above and little sense of shrugging off the noisy valley
below. It’s only after gaining about 200 yards and breaking out onto the
first big shoulder of the ridge that it all begins to make sense. Suddenly,
the cars on the A5 seem precipitously far beneath you. Above, the ridge
soars up in a dramatic, turreted crest. And on this particular afternoon,
swirling clouds enhanced the drama, with the great buttresses of the north
face plunging into nothingness.
On the upper ridge there are well-worn paths that follow lines of least
resistance. Or you can pick a steeper, rockier, more entertaining route —
not really rock-climbing, but definitely “scrambling”, requiring the use of
hands. Edmond was in an adventurous mood, so we scrambled, revelling in the
tactile joy of it, balancing up and over a series of steps formed by giant
shards of ancient rhyolite, sometimes smooth jade green, sometimes bleached
pale yellow, in other places knobbled with quartz nuggets trapped in the
bubbling, molten bedrock millions of years ago.
At one point, climbing out onto the crest of the second big step in the ridge,
we found ourselves walking across a great sheet of snow-white quartz. We
stopped for a rest and a drink, then continued up the final steepening to
the north summit. Although there were no huge drops, there were places where
a slip might result in a twisted ankle, so I had packed a length of rope in
my sack, just in case Edmond got nervous. In the event he was fine, as long
as I stayed close, ready to give an occasionally steadying hand. Now too
high for bilberries, he raced over the North Summit, into the gap beyond and
up the final tower of the main summit.
What a glorious mountain top. Titanic slabs of rock make perfect picnic
benches for enjoying your well-earned sandwiches, once you have made the
obligatory heave onto the Henry Mooreish monolith of Adam, polished smooth
by a million boot soles (and jumped the 3ft gap to Eve, if you are feeling
brave). Tryfan’s summit is 3,009ft above sea level, more than 1,950ft above
the road. With gastronomic diversions, it had taken us a leisurely 2 hours.
Rather than retrace our steps, we continued southwards, traversing the
mountain down to a pass called Bwlch Tryfan.
I had nursed grand ambitions of continuing from here up the spiky hogsback of
Bristly Ridge to the slightly higher summits of the Glyders, where a
gorgeously spacious ridge leads over the famous Cantilever and the Castle of
the Wind, but it was getting late and I was wary of overloading Edmond with
my own enthusiasms. So we took the shortest option, leaving the Glyders for
another day, and headed straight down towards the car park at Ogwen Cottage,
where Rosie was waiting.
There was time to amble and enjoy the growing luminosity of a late-summer
afternoon; the brilliance of crimson, pink and white heather; the springy
softness of peaty turf; and, best of all, the sparkling refreshment of Llyn
Bochlwyd’s icy water, as we stopped for the swim without which no good hill
walk is complete.
Head for the hills
WHERE TO GO
Apart from the east coast, there are few areas of Britain that do not have
interesting hill- walking, whether it is the granite plateau of Dartmoor,
the chalk South Downs, the gritstone escarpments of the Peak District or the
rolling hills of the Scottish Borders. However, for those who seek high
mountains (more than 3,000ft), there are just three areas — Snowdonia, the
Lake District and Scotland. For scale, variety, grandeur and sheer number of
summits, nothing matches the highlands of Scotland.
However, the Lakeland peaks have a unique charm, while Snowdonia feels more
austere, and its peaks are more obviously dramatic.
WHERE TO STAY
There are many hotels, B&Bs, hostels and camp sites in and around
Snowdonia. For a traditional experience with lots of atmosphere, try the Pen
y Gwryd Hotel, near Capel Curig (01286 870211, www.pyg.co.uk), which has
doubles from £56, B&B; or, nearby, the Tyn y Coed Hotel (01690
720331, www.tyn-y-coed.co.uk) or the Bron Eryri Guesthouse (01690 720240).
For other accommo-dation information, contact North Wales Tourism (0870 516
8767, www.nwt.co.uk). For Scotland, contact the Scottish Tourism Board (0845
225 5121, www.visitscotland.com); for the Lake District, the Cumbria Tourist
Board (0808 100 8848, www.golakes.co.uk).
GETTING STARTED
Virtually any fit person, of any age, can enjoy hill-walking without recourse
to expensive equipment or elaborate training. However, the British hills are
potentially dangerous. Get lost in the mist on a peak such as Tryfan and you
can easily stray over the edge of a precipice. The most important skills are
being able to navigate yourself out of danger, even in zero visibility — ie
being able to use a map and compass accurately — and being self-sufficient
in an emergency. Needless to say, if you plan to take young children with
you, it is vital to hone your own skills first. In winter, snow and ice can
transform British hill-walking into a more serious pastime, more akin to
full-blown mountaineering.
TRAINING
Mountain safety boils down mainly to common sense; you can teach yourself the
necessary skills, and there are many excellent books on the subject.
However, if you feel nervous about heading into the hills, there is a lot to
be for said for attending a course. Plas y Brenin, the National Mountain
Centre at Capel Curig, runs a variety of training courses. The five-night
residential Hillwalking Skills course costs £355; a weekend introduction is
£140 (01690 720214, www.pyb.co.uk). Wild Wales (01492 582448,
www.wild-wales.co.uk) has tailor-made day courses with an emphasis on
natural history; £130 for one person, £40pp for four or more.
In Scotland, try Glenmore Lodge (01479 861256, www.glenmorelodge.org.uk). In
the Lake District, try Lakeside YMCA (0870 727 3927, www.lakesideymca.co.uk)
or Outward Bound (0870 513 4227, www.outwardbound-uk.org)
EQUIPMENT
If you like gizmos, there is no limit to the gadgets you can buy, but your
rucksack will be extremely heavy. The only essentials are:
Boots: some people prefer trainer-type shoes, but
ankle-length boots give more protection. The lighter they are the better
(one pound on the feet feels like four pounds on your back). Choice of make
and model will depend on which best fits your feet.
Rucksack: the lighter the better. Be wary of extra
“features”.
First-aid kit: basic dressings, painkillers and a whistle for
emergencies.
Map and compass: the OS 1:25,000 maps give the most accurate
detail for navigation on complicated mountainous terrain. They and a simple
Silva compass are all you need. Sophisticated GPS devices can now make
pinpointing your position much easier, but it’s dangerous to rely on them.
Outer shell clothing: some kind of hooded, weatherproof
jacket and overtrousers. There are countless models on the market, but most
involve some compromise between breathability and true waterproofness.
Lighter is generally better.
Warm clothing: at the very least, you need to be carrying a
warm, insulating jumper or jacket in addition to shirt and trousers/shorts.
Wool is fine, but synthetic fleeces have the advantage of absorbing less
moisture and drying out more quickly. For children, I also pack a hat and
gloves.
Water bottle: in the British hills, we are usually blessed
with plentiful streams. However, on some long ridges, such as the Cuillin,
on Skye, there is no water, so you need to carry some. Be particularly
careful to avoid dehydration if you are taking children with you.
Emergency rations: spare calories in case of emergency.
Chocolate and sweets provide instant blood sugar, which can be vital if
reviving someone in a hurry; bread or biscuits, with butter or cheese,
provide slower- burning carbohydrate and fat.
Mobile telephones: they have saved lives, but you should
never rely on them, as reception in mountainous areas can be very patchy.
