Quite a demanding trek over quite boggy ground in the Cambrian mountains below Plynlimon
Date walked: 27th February 2015
Distance: around 12 miles
Maps used: OS Explorer 215 Newtown and Machynlleth and 214
**********
Bob and I had stayed the night at The Mount Inn at Llanidloes. It wasn’t an altogether agreeable experience although the public bar itself has a good feel to it with slate floors and an open fire. We were not impressed with the rooms (which were in a different building); Bobs being shabby and lacking basic amenities (like soap) and my family room had all the character of a dishwasher. Bob thought his steak was good; mine wasn’t and the chips were wangy. The beer was fine. Breakfast, was very so-so and served on cold plates. We wouldn’t stay again.
For todays walk I had planned a trek through more isolated terrain, though yesterdays was only populated by ruins. We took the wonderful road back to Dylife and then continued onto the ridiculous marker post….
…..where a lay-by had just enough room for a couple of cars car. We followed the wide track …..
…..to the Glaslyn Nature Reserve….
,….. but then forked right. The tussocky plateau of rusty coloured grass gave us a fine view towards a steep valley in the direction of Machynlleth.
Our confident dotted green line descended slightly, taking us passed a corrugated iron clad farm building….
… and a ruined cottage, marked on the map as Bugeilyn…
…. before arriving at two small lakes linked by a small river.
The right-hand lake is called Lyn Cwm-byr. We could just about make out the wall of the dam which no doubt formed the feature.
The larger one on the left is named Bugeilyn, after the cottage (or vice-versa). Our track passed between them and rose above the lake giving us a view over the incongruous (but rather sweet) boat house on its shore.
It was around here, that we went wrong, I think, seduced by the good track that curved around the hillside, giving us ever better views over the lake.
If an upturned wellie on a stick was a message, we failed to read it.
Suddenly our wide farm track became sheep sized, and rather wet.
Boggy even, in places.
The next mile or so of more or less squelchy ground was punctuated by crossing several small streams that flowed into the Afon Hengwm over the our left.
Mostly this was achieved whilst maintaining dry feet, though sometimes it was touch and go.
We agreed that we were not taking any recognized footpath but we were also sure that other humans had used our route (possibly on a quad bike), which encouraged us to keep going; we knew that somewhere above us was a path proper and sometime we were going to re-join it.
And anyway, this was wonderfully empty and rugged countryside.
On the far side of the river, the rocky hillside at the edge of Craig yr Eglwys exposed its twisted strata.
Our river was joined by the smaller Afon Gwerin, which tumbled down the bottom of Cwm Gwerin , a glacially formed valley.
At this confluence of water courses were the first signs of occupation that we had seen for a while, a low wall suggesting a sheep pen….
….and nearby a ruin of what might have been a substantial cottage.
I was getting cold now so I was glad to have with me a rather fetching pink Buff. Cue for a picture (thanks Bob).
This very light and thin garment (which has good UV protection, though not tested today) sits comfortably as a neck-warmer but stretches to form a snug headscarf (you can make it into a pirate look if you prefer) that did a good job of keeping my ears warm. It’s breathable, too (what isn’t?). You can see all their charity fundraising ones at Kitshack. End of Product Placement.
It had been my plan to follow the river to near where it enters the Nant-y-moch reservoir, which we had got close to on our walk over Plynlimon last year. (have another look) But progress had been a bit slow and we decided instead to find the path above us that crosses over banc Lluestnewydd. But first a bit more boggy walking.
Then a bit of scrambling was required up the hillside until we could see the path coming away from the river that we would take for our revised route.
Time for a bit of a rest and our sandwiches. And to admire the lichen-covered boulders.
We picked our way through the rocks to reach our new track. The higher ground and gravel surface was better drained, for which we were grateful; my boots were damp enough.
There was another little river below us now draining the boggy land- the Afon Hyddgen.
About a mile up the track another dropped down to the property called Hyddgen; we thought the No through Road sign a good joke.
Our path took us straight into a conifer plantation, passing a memorial to a shepherd, David Richards, a previous occupant of Hyddgen. (who died from warming up too quickly after getting frozen looking for his sheep – its a great story which I knew nothing about until I found the above link when writing this up).
In the heart of the wood, a crossways of the forestry tracks demanded a consultation with our map….
We were in little doubt that a right turn was required, but what little doubt we had was extinguished by a crusty finger post.
We left the forest at its eastern edge, continuing to climb gently on a well surfaced track.
Over to our left the steep upper sides of Dulas Gorge came into view as we headed back to the dammed lakes that we had passed by earlier.
A woman cycled towards us making me think that it was late in the day to be heading out. Ahead- a couple more people were exploring the dam.
Just before we reached the dam was the best view we had had of the horseshoe of valleys that faced Machynlleth.
The cascade of overflow from the dam was a photographic treat.
And the lake with its little island was looking atmospheric in the now late afternoon light.
Our path took us round Lyn Cwm-byr……
….. and then dropped down towards the ruined cottage we had passed near the start of the walk, giving us another view of the boathouse on .
Bob passed the farm building without so much as a glance at it, but I was bowled over by the beautiful colours in its rusted side. Stunning.
Bob, I think, was thinking about a drink. Quite right, too. We deserved one. (well, rather more than one).
Start collecting the wellies, Charles. They’ll come in handy on walks like these. That has to be the most lichen-y finger post I’ve ever seen. Did you stroke it? I would have. Beautiful photos as ever (annoyingly). But please stick with the blue panama, would you? I’m unconvinced by you in the buff (if you see what I mean). D
Thanks Rob, they can be a fickle lot, my commentators. Yes, packed with drama and event. Maybe I should allow more time for posts to front page .Worry not, though- I’ve 6 more WCP posts to come.
The thing is that some poor sod will be walking along thinking ” my left foot is getting rather wet” and then realise that they have lost a wellie and come limping back for it, so it wouldn’t be fair to pop it in the bag.
No, I didn’t stroke the post. I can’t explain why. Probably goes back to my childhood. I think I look good in the buff but it may be a minority view.
1. I wish I knew how to pronounce those Welsh names.
2. Beautiful landscape. You’re to be congratulated for doing this.
3. In Amerika, you couldn’t do this. You’d encounter “Keep Out” and “Private Property” signs everywhere. Keep to the public roads or you may be shot. Come to think of it, you may be shot on public roads too.
Welsh pronunciation is easy. First off, pop a few pebbles in you mouth. Then talk with a lisp. Everyone will understand. There is something very special about these wild places. I reckon we should go for a walk in the Brecon Beacons rather than visit gardens when you visit. A night out beneath the stars? We do plenty of “Private” signs – but mostly when they might be read.
Your lichens are lovely – and your rust. James Golden gives us a reminder of how fortunate we are to live in a country that gives us so much freedom to roam. (Just need to point out that Welsh pronunciation is not one of Charles’ strong points – much like my grammar! )
Thanks Paul. The rust was especially lovely. We are thinking of some Corton Steel for the New Garden. We are indeed very fortunate. Plenty more roaming to do!
In Charles’ case, “freedom to roam” is irrelevant. Have you ever known him to be deterred or even impeded slightly by “keep out” or “private property” signs, warnings about unexploded bombs, barbed wire, cage fences, walls, hedges, ditches or occupiers of lurid pink houses? And we need to add map-reading to his list of non-strong points. But we are indeed fortunate that as well as being a walker, Charles is an artist – seeing photographic opportunities that many would dismiss. Until now I would never have seen any beauty in rust!
Ah, I think you have hit the nail on its rusty head. I see all these signs as invitations to explore for the adventurously spirited. At Bodnant I once nipped over a “Private sign” in The Dell to find the lake and boathouse and took some lovely pics, one of which was published in a feature I did for Saga magazine. I was then informed that Lady Aberconway was a bit peeved about this cos it was considered part of her private garden. (I understand that they are allowing the public in there this year). Yes, I like to think of it as “creative map reading”. I think it will catch on.
Enjoyed your article and photographs , thank you. May I add that Glaslyn (Bluelake) the first lake you passed on your walk is rather strange. Many years ago I along with three other scuba divers , dived across its full length . We found that this lake is completely lined with round , fingernail sized golden pebbles !
The water is crystal clear and we saw no signs of plant or aquatic life. At its centre it is no deeper than 14 feet and its golden basin has no outcrops of rock. When the sun is shining the reflection from the golden pebbles illuminate the water and this no doubt gives the lake its ancient`blue` name. You have pointed out that the area is a peat upland , and that the lakes close by Beguilin ruin are very dark and peaty in nature. So much so that trout caught from Beguilin are nearly black with golden fins. It begs the question therefore `how can Glaslyn be so completely the opposite when so nearby” ? If any geologist or historian can shed some light on this I`d love to know . Please email.
Hi Anthony, a fascinating observation, thank you. I hope you find an answer.