Plas Y Brenin, Snowdonia

Attendees: Alan, Claire, Mark F, Mark C, Dan S, Bruce, Graham, Carl, Sarah R, Maggie, Dave W, Andy

Saturday

Breaking with the tradition of writing trip reports after the event (often many months after the event), we’re writing this
one during the event.

The met office used a bunch of superlatives in the forecast – phrases like 70mph winds with 90mph gusts, appalling visibility, tortuous walking, white out conditions, rain, hail, snow, blah, blah. It couldn’t possibly be this bad, but by Saturday lunchtime we had all concluded it was this bad, and possibly worse. The day involved wind and every type of precipitation you can think of.

Dave sensibly opted for the lowland walk which provided ample public houses to shelter in, and at the time of writing has still to be located. The rest of us took the bus to Ogwen. Even the bus driver was surprised anyone wanted to get on it.

Just before Llyn Idwal, the party split. Mark & Carl headed for the Glyders via Devil’s Kitchen. There was a flash of lightning and clap of thunder and Carl turned back – and admirably was the only one of us who got back to PYB by foot. Mark continued making it to within 50m of the summit of Glyder Fawr before being beaten back unable to see or stand.

Claire’s cunning plan (cunning because it stayed below 800m) was to go to Llyn Bochlwyd and then via Bwlch Tryfan on to the ridge running East of Tryfan. Upon reaching the Lake, Mark F, Andy, Dan, Bruce & Graeme decided discretion was the better part of valor and turned back to the café.

The hardcore mountaineers:Alan, Claire, Maggie & Sarah continued. In Maggie’s own words: “then there was this snowy bit”. They made it out onto the ridge, but found themselves unable to stand in the wind, and beat a retreat down a valley towards the road. Margaret Russell, teacher (retired), described the descent a “bog, bog bog”.

Gear shopping & Rugby fill the afternoon.

Sunday

Alan, Claire, Sarah, Mark F, Bruce and Maggie prepare to go out with an instructor on a Winter Skills Course. From conversations in the bar on Saturday it seemed they were destined for a day of practicing ice axe arrests on a muddy slope. But no, they climbed a snow gully on Y Garn, returning down Devil’s kitchen, some more nervous than others.

The rest head up Moel Siabod in driving hail, bagging the summit, and returning around lunchtime for a nice warm shower.

[wunderslider_nggallery id=”65″]

 
Mark’s route on Moel Siabod

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