This year the Crickhowell Walking Festival reached double figures as this was its tenth year. Every year we have been blessed with largely good weather. The odd day may have been poor but, on the whole, the programme has always been adhered to. The good luck bubble had to burst one year, and this was it. The vast majority of days were wet, routes adjusted to accommodate the conditions and some walks with diminished numbers as people looked out of the window in the morning and went back to bed.
I spent both weekends at the festival, the first to pre-walk some of my routes, the second to lead groups on those walks. That first weekend I got wet, very wet. I walked a circuit of the Gwrynnefawr Reservoir, and 11 mile ridge walk taking in the highest points of the Black Mountains. I need not have done it as I know the route very well but as the tops were in cloud and the bog between Waun Fach and Pen-y-Gadair Fawr is notoriously difficult to navigate over, I felt I should. When I reached that section, what did I find? A brand new path snaking its way across the bog from summit to summit. By the time I reached my car at the end of a very wet and windy walk, I did not have a dry stitch on me. I was blown over several times and my boots let me down badly.
The next day, in similarly unpleasant conditions I walked the valley section between the Skirrid and Sugarloaf, a walk I had never done before and, therefore, needed to do to give my group the confidence to follow.
Back at home I visited Cotswold Outdoor and exchanged my boots for a pair that would not leak.
Returning to Crickhowell the following Thursday evening, the weather forecast for the next few days was no better. In fact it was probably worse.
Small gathering on the summit of a misty Sugarloaf
My first walk was the Skirrid to Sugarloaf walk, a distance of about 10 or 11 miles, over one summit, across the valley and over the second summit. It was wet, horribly wet. I was supposed to have thirteen walker to follow me. Four turned up, all very keen to and ready to go. We decided to circumnavigate the Skirrid. It can be fairly treacherous in the wet on its steep slopes. The rain continued all morning but as we sheltered in the porch to Llanvihangel Crucorney Church it began to ease. There was hope. As the afternoon progressed the slight improvement continued and we completed our walk. At the end of it we felt good, self-satisfied; we had had a good walk in good company and, at the end of the day, did it really matter that it had rained? Not really, it was good to be out in the fresh air.
On the Saturday the day started well and as the forecast was more promising, I had a full turn out of twenty. We were walking Three Pens and a Table, a route above Crickhowell incorporating the summits of Pen Gloch-y-pibwr, Pen Alit-mawr, Pen Cerrig-calch and Table Mountain. This has to be one of my favourite walks in the Black Mountains. All the hard work is done in the first two hours and for the remaining three hours, subject to conditions, you are blessed with fabulous views across the Usk Valley and beyond.
The plan was to have a two lunch break, an early lunch sitting on top of the Darren and one a couple of hours later. Just as we arrived at the Darren, heavy showers raced across from the southwest with a hint of snow in them. We ended up having a single lunch stop just below the summit of Pen Gloch-y-pibwr with the wind racing past above our heads. The pattern for the rest of the day were heavy showers punctuated with short periods of sunshine. It remains one of my favourite walks.
For several days the forecast had been predicting snow and high winds over the Black Mountains for the last day of the festival. I woke up to snow on the tops but in the valleys where it had rained most of the night it seemed to be easing.
The car park at Blaen-y-cwm was covered with a layer of wet snow. I was again due to have twenty followers but only eight turned up. Having walked the route only a week before I knew how horrible the eastern ridge was going to be with many boggy patches to negotiate and with the forecast 50mph winds the going would be slow. Adjusting the route we avoided being high for so long and took the path that went straight up the valley, passing close to the reservoir. As it was there was so much water on this path that boots had to be up to task to keep water out. Fortunately, mine were. After about a mile we reached the reservoir where I decided that one of the group was not adequately dressed for the conditions and that he was putting his, and the group’s, welfare at risk if he continued. We were down to seven.
The conditions were horrible. Driven snow hit us face on and we were not yet on the tops. Just below the northern ridge I gathered the group together and told them that I wasn’t sure there would be anything to be gained by doing the walk once we reached the summit. It might prove to be too unpleasant and potentially harmful. With that the sun came out, briefly, so that when we reached the top of the ridge there was no doubt in my mind that we should carry on. The respite in the weather was short-lived but at least we largely had a our backs to the ferocity of the wind. For the next couple of hours we experienced heavy snow driven by strong winds and a wind chill factor of -10.
It was the right decision to continue with this particular group. How did we feel when we got back to Blaen-y-cwm? Fantastic! What a fabulous walk we had. The walk itself was not hard but what made it exhilarating was pitting ourselves against the elements, feeling the harshness of them against our skin and feeling invigorated rather than tired. Those that rolled over and hid under their duvets that morning missed a real treat.
