After spending three separate days in the hills with cadets from Ellesmere College CCF, the last three have been spent on an expedition. Each year, these expeditions try to give the cadets the opportunity to tackle mountains that most people wouldn’t attempt due to their remoteness. By allowing three days, it gives them a day to walk in, a day to make their ascent and a final day to walk out. The Scottish Highlands are remote enough for most people but, by picking these isolated peaks, they truly get a sense of being self reliant – they have little choice! This year, all four walking groups headed for Ruadh Stac Mor and A Mhaighdean, which are well known for their beauty and claimed by some to be the remotest of Scotland’s 283 Munros.

The view during the long walk in

After spending a several hours getting everyone prepared, and trying to encourage them to pack things in their rucksacks rather than on the outside, we were dropped by minibus on Wednesday morning at Poolewe. We were welcomed by surprisingly strong sunshine and warmth, which seemed a bizarre contrast to Tuesday’s snow and blizzards. However, the sun remained making for a wonderfully relaxed walk in surrounded by rocky snow-capped mountains rising out of the low lying grass and bog.

The route was fairly straight forward, so we decided to allow the groups a bit of freedom from adult input and set them off on their own. Huw, Ranjit and I started off shadowing the rear group, but soon found ourselves frustrated by the slow progress so decided to keep an eye on them from the front. Even then, we were surprised by how long it took the rear group to catch us up. Later it transpired that one of the group had dropped a tent and, by the time anyone realised, had a 3km round trip to retrieve it. One good reason for avoiding strapping things to the outside of your rucksack!

A Mhaighdean from Carnmore bothy

Our target for the night was the bothy at Carnmore. Although little more than a disused cattle shed at the south east end of Fionn Loch, it can be a real saviour for those staggering off the mountains in the dark after a longer than expected epic with nature. However, it does seem slightly strange that this basic level of accommodation, although most welcome, should be situated right next to plush looking hunting lodge in the middle of nowhere. I have little doubt that it offers an incredible venue from which to stalk the deer but, so far, I’ve never seem anyone in it.

As we prepared dinner outside our tents (saving the space inside the bothy for anyone that might be in greater need), we were graced with blue skies and more stunning views in all directions. With the moon hanging over it, the view towards A Mhaighdean was particularly inspiring, particularly with it being our planned target fro the morning.

By the time morning came, the cloud and rain had arrived – perhaps responsible for creating two distinct groups in the party. There were those that were mentally geared up for the ascent of these two remote Munros, and those that had set their hearts on the relatively low level walk to another bothy at Shenavall, to the south east of Loch na Sealga. In the end, Ian and I found ourselves starting out on the low level route. As you might expect, this group was made up of those with aches and pains incurred during the week to date, as well as those that simply didn’t want to find the energy for another big day. Consequently, the going was rather slow again, but I was impressed by the way they kept going and stuck together.

Two of a larger group of deer showing an interest in our presence

One of the great treats about being in such remote areas is that the wildlife often shows little fear of people. The deer were certainly a little wary, but we got some great pictures of them checking us out.

One detail we had ‘neglected’ to tell the group about this leg of the journey was that there was a river in the way. Ian and I waited at Larachantivore for the group to catch us up, before we broke the good news. While we were explaining different methods of crossing rivers, and discussing the options of how to keep either your boots or socks dry (unfortunately not both), some seemed to think it was all a big wind up. They were soon to be disappointed.

When it came to it, and the penny finally dropped that this was for real, it was interesting to see different people’s priorities when it came to keeping things dry. Some were tempted to just go for it in whatever they had on, some crossed in socks, some saved their socks and crossed in boots, while others would probably have gone across naked if we’d let them! Whatever option we took, we all got very cold from the volume of meltwater coming off the mountains after the recent snowfall.

Once across the river, it was only another kilometer to Shenavall where we were able to take time to dry out, relax and wait for the Munroists to complete their epic. They finally staggered in about 4 hours after us, looking tired but full of the satisfaction of a successful day.

A good night’s sleep and the promise of a relatively short walk out (only about 7km), seemed to spur everyone on to get cracking this morning. This final section from Shenavall to Dundonnell is simple enough, although you do need to keep an eye on the map as the ‘path’ disappears regularly during the first 3km or so. After 3 days of carrying big expedition rucksacks, there seemed to be a great deal of jubilation when we got back to some resemblance of civilisation, with the promise of showers, toilets, sofas, beds and plenty of time to share stories and experiences of their adventures in the ‘wilds’ of Scotland.

Some say they have found the last three days little more than a test of endurance, while others site a number of specific things they have learnt about themselves and others. To be honest I have little doubt that, for each and every one, they will remember this experience for many years and drawer strength and encouragement from their experiences. Well done to everyone!

Although I’ve been hoping for the snow to return to Scotland, I couldn’t quite believe it this morning when we woke to see a white scene at all levels. Almost in celebration, we planned a Munro ‘bagging’ day in the Fannichs. With the group still untrained in the use of ice axes and crampons, they seemed a little nervous as we got off the minibus on the A835 to be welcomed by a strong and very cold wind. However, but it was the almost immediate stream crossing that proved our first challenge.

Having found a way across without getting wet feet, we followed the Allt a Mhadaidh for about a mile before cutting left towards the beallach by Loch Sgeireach. The wind died and left clear skies giving incredible views in all directions. After the last few days, it was great to be able to share a beautiful Scottish winter day with the group, and I found myself stopping regularly to take in the magnificent terrain. Slowly but surely, we made our way up onto the north ridge of Beinn Liath Mhor Fannaich, where we were able to see the majority of our planned route stretching out in front of us for the first time. Seeing all four peaks was exciting, but also a little daunting.

The summit of Beinn Liath Mhor Fannaich

On the top of the ridge, there were large areas that had been scoured by the wind, leaving frozen grass. We spent some time looking at rime and talking about the way in which the wind redistributes snow around the mountainside, before deciding to stop for ‘first lunch’. In search of shelter from the wind we headed across to the other side of the ridge where, as if to prove what we had just been saying, we found huge deposits of snow left by the north easterly winds.

After a brief refuelling stop, our ascent of Beinn Liath Mhor Fannaich was relatively painless and we reached the top as the cloud started to swirl around the summits. Dropping down to the south west proved more awkward than expected. The deep build up of fresh unconsolidated snowfall hid the large rocks beneath, making the going very slow as legs kept disappearing waist deep into rock and snow. It was at this point that we seemed to naturally join up with the other group on the hill, lead by Ian Carter. This wasn’t planned, but definitely ended up working to my advantage as Ian seemed to spend a lot of time trail blazing through the fresh snow at the front, leaving me with the easy job of bringing up the rear.

The view from Sgurr Mor with An Teallach in the distance

Our ascent of Sgurr Mor took some time but, with the stunning conditions, it was a pleasure to make the most of a day in the Scottish winter mountain sun. Arriving at the summit, our highest point of the day, gave amazing views and the group were thrilled to be able to look at the immense An Teallach that we were on yesterday. With a great sense of achievement, we afforded ourselves a prolonged stop for a rest and ‘second lunch’, as well as taking advantage of the photographic opportunities. The descent of Sgurr Mor turned out to be a bit simpler, made even easier by the group’s discovery that backsides can be more stable than feet. With Ian and I walking at the front and rear, it felt like we were leading the seven dwarfs.

Ian Carter - enjoying a rare winter day in Scotland 2012

The top of Carn na Criche, although standing at 961m, does not classify as a Munro and the group almost seemed to sense this as we went straight over it with it much recognition. The only hesitation was caused by the cloud, which closed right in, prompting the emergence of compasses from pockets for the first time today. However, the decent from the top followed by the climb up Meall a Chrasgaidh seemed like nothing after the earlier ups and downs, and it was with a sense of completion that we took another break before descending.

We can only have been sat there for 2-3 minutes before the cloud closed right in again – this time accompanied by a bitterly cold north easterly wind that had the group wanting to get out of there fast. Thankfully it died down, or we found a bit of shelter, before too long leaving us with a relatively relaxed period of picking our way through the snow drifts and steep sections on the eastern slopes on our way down to the road.

I have a suspicion that this snow won’t last long, but it’s been wonderful to be able to enjoy it today, and to share it with the group.

Staying at JSMTC Dundonnell puts you right at the base of the famous An Teallach mountain, with the path approaching from the north starting about 100m from the centre. It would seem almost rude not to make an ascent of this glorious mountain at some point during the week.

Making our way up from the river onto Meall Garbh

After starting on the main path, we drifted to the south a little to follow the river which the map boasted had a number of waterfalls. This turned out to be a beautiful approach route, with the river cascading along and the immense looking Glas Mheall Mor reaching into the sky in front of us. Unfortunately, yesterday’s rainfall had saturated the ground and things became pretty way underfoot, forcing us to ascend the slope up Meall Garb to our right. The next couple of kilometres was relatively easy going, with little height gain and stunning views for a time. As we approached Sron a Choire, the skies darkened a little and the promised snow started to arrive, but not in the quantities hoped for.

After a brief lunch stop, we started our final ascent of Bidein a Ghlas Thuill, the highest of the peaks on An Teallach. With the cloud down and the snow flurries around us, we gained a limited appreciation of the stunning views of the coires to the east. However, the site of the trig point at the summit proved just as inspiring for some! At the start of the day, we had considered the possibility of also taking in the top of Sgurr Fiona – the second Munro on An Teallach but, with time drifting by and the tired body language from some, we decided to head back down.

As we made our way, we came across a number of snow patches, giving the opportunity to talk about a few snow related issues in the mountains as well as have a bit of fun. One particular patch had a gentle gradient and offered fantastic sliding qualities! Not steep enough for any serious ice axe and crampon practice, but good for messing about.

Today was much longer than yesterday, finishing with some tired legs, but it was great to get up to the top of An Teallach with the group. Hopefully, a good night’s rest will see them right for tomorrow.

Each year Ellesmere College CCF aim to take a group of cadets up to the Scottish Highlands for a week of mountain walking in the snow. Unfortunately, this winter had been particularly poor for snow conditions, and we travelled for almost 10 hours up to Dundonnell JSMTC (Joint Service Mountain Training Centre) in glorious sunshine yesterday.

Today was our first venture out into the mountains, and we were welcomed by a distinct lack of snow and an abundance of cloud and rain. We had hoped to spend the day on Ben More Assynt and Conival, but the weather conditions forced us to aim a little lower and we headed for Cul Mor instead. The poor visibility provided the ideal opportunity for the groups to practice their navigation skill as we worked our way across to the mountain’s south east ridge. In reality, the ridge isn’t that long or steep but, being the first day on the hill, it certainly felt like it.

The summit of Cul Mor

The final push for the summit was over a boulder field that required a bit of straight forward scrambling and gave everyone a sense that they’d truly ‘climbed’ the mountain. After the traditional summit photo, we took advantage of the limited shelter on offer for a brief lunch stop, before turning south west to find the col and our planned descent route. As we left the summit, the wind picked up and made progress very difficult for a few minutes until we got out of it’s path.

The descent was easy enough, if a bit soggy, and the group took time to enjoy a number of waterfalls that we came across. However, the rain didn’t encourage anyone to stop for our second lunch, and we opted to plough on to the minibus and shelter.

It certainly wasn’t a wonderfully memorable day due to the weather, but it was good to be back in the Scottish hills again. Let’s hope things pick up over the coming week.

Alfie, my eldest son, often wants to experience some of the things I get up to but commitments like school keep getting in the way. However, each year for his birthday, I try to give him the chance to experience something that he really wants to do. This year his imagination was captured by the idea of snow holing. This was always going to be a bit more involved than last year’s trip to a big indoor climbing wall, so half term provided us with the only realistic opportunity to make the trip.

Alfie celebrating in the wind at the top of Cnap Coire na Spreidhe

After the last few years of amazing winters in Scotland, it has been frustrating that this year hasn’t quite lived up to expectations. However, to give ourselves the best chance of a successful trip, I decided to head for Cairngorm where I knew of certain sites where the snow was most likely to have accumulated. The other advantage of this site is it’s altitude – at 1100m, it was above the expected freezing level, so hopefully limiting the chances of the snow hole sagging overnight!

As we made our way up the ridge from the Coire na Ciste car park, I was beginning to wonder whether there would actually be enough snow. The weather was reasonably cold, but not much snow on the ground. Carrying a big expedition rucksack was quite hard work for Alfie. I’d tried to give him all the lighter personal kit, while I took the heavier stuff and all the ‘group’ kit. However, we got into a routine of splitting the ascent into chunks of 100m of height gain, which made it a bit more manageable and we actually made good progress up the ridge as the cloud grew thicker and the wind speed picked up.On the cairn of Cnap Coire na Spreidhe, Alf couldn’t resist posing for the first summit photo but, with the wind blowing at about 50mph, his arms were getting blown all over the place.

The snow holes appear out of the cloud!

Although it was certainly cold and icy on the top, there wasn’t much sign of snow. As we started the final 300m leg from the top into our planned snow hole site, I was still uncertain there would be enough snow to dig a sufficiently large snow hole. However, with about 50m to go, the cloud pulled back slightly to reveal a row of snow hole entrances that had been left by previous explorers.

We dumped our rucksacks and had a nosey look inside them all. With this being Alfie’s first experience of snow holes, I wanted him to be able to have a look at what can be done. Although there tend to be some common design features for the sake of comfort, the only limiting factors are the volume of snow, time and your imagination. We took our lunch break inside a snow ‘palace’, which included two rooms. The first had two sofa sized seats with a table in the middle and a short corridor heading back into the bedroom with two separate beds. Alfie was blown away by the fact that a snow hole could be so big and comfortable. Personally, I was just relieved to see that there was plenty of snow – this particular hole went back about 7m and still no sign of hitting solid ground.

The 'bedroom' with steps leading up between the bivi bags, a handy shelf and 'plastered' walls

Our lunch gave us the chance to do a little planning for our own construction, and we soon selected a site in the snow bank that looked ideal. We spent all afternoon digging – certainly the longest I’ve ever dug in the snow for. However, in the past, my snow holes have simply been a source of shelter to enable a longer journey. In this case, the whole reason for the trip was the snow whole experience so it made sense to devote more time to it. By the time we had finished, we’d made ourselves an extremely comfortable home for the night.

One of the things that I’d explained to Alfie was the importance of trying to smooth off the roof. If it’s rough, any moisture that condenses on the ceiling will gather on the sections pointing downwards and end up dripping on you during the night. Alf took this to an extreme never before seen in a snow hole. He spent ages smoothing off the walls and ceiling to such a degree that it looked as if we’d brought a professional plasterer along with us!

After a decent breakfast, we headed to the top of Cairngorm itself. With it only being 800m away from our snow hole ,with 150m of ascent, it would have been almost criminal not to have done it. As we left the shelter of the snow hole site we got hit by 70-80mph North-Westerly winds which made it hard to walk straight. It must have taken Alf all of 2 minutes to decide that he needed his goggles to protect his face from the ice being blown in our faces. Again, the visibility was very poor (down to about 30m), making the navigation a bit awkward and a heavy reliance on the compass slowing progress.

The top of the world - well, Cairngorm anyway!

Arriving at the top, we took advantage of the shelter provided by the weather station. It might not have been indoors but, after being exposed to the wind, hiding behind a stone wall felt like it. We then made a final 50m dash for the summit cairn, which Alfie clambered up for the obligatory photo, fighting the wind as it buffeted him around.

As we retreated back to the shelter of the weather station, Alfie was fascinated to notice the amount of ice on it’s metal supports. Known as rime, this ice ‘grows’ sideways on objects as the wind blows water vapour which freezes instantly on contact with solid objects.

Once back in the shelter of the snow hole site, we spent much of the day practicing various winter skills with boots, crampons and ice axes. However, it still left us with enough time for a few home improvements, giving ourselves some additional space for our second night out.

After all the fresh air, exercise and a good dinner, we were both shattered and ended up blowing out the candle by about 7pm – I haven’t gone to bed so early for years! However, a decent night’s sleep set us up for an early morning. Within 2 hours we were fed, dressed and packed and said a sad fairwell to our temporary home as we started our way back down the mountain and returned to civilisation and the warmth of the car.

It was a great few days, making the most of the conditions we were faced with. Hopefully, the experience will wet Alfie’s appetite for similar adventures in the future. Happy Birthday!

Knowing that today would need to be a shorter day on the hill, in order to allow time for traveling back to Oswestry, we decided to make Moel Siabod our target for the day. I’ve taken groups from the school up this particular mountain before, but never in winter conditions and not by this route.

On the way up to the summit of Moel Siabod

We took farm tracks to the old mine workings to the north east of the mountain, as we made our way towards Llyn y Foel. Although we could see the snow above us, our walk in was very green. The biggest clue under foot that winter had arrived was the frozen ground. Having arrived at the lake, we took a break for food and drink, and an opportunity to adjust clothing before we started going up the mountain rather than around it’s base.

Rather than heading up the Daear Ddu ridge, on the eastern flank of Moel Siabod, we took the line of the gully just to it’s north. The loose rock which makes up this route had been mainly covered in snow, making much of it easier than it is in summer conditions. However, we found ourselves cutting left and right in an effort to find the deepest snow, in which the going was generally easier. I was very aware that having a large steep climb ahead of us reaching into the clouds was quite imposing, so we started to break the ascent into smaller, more manageable chunks.

Practicing 'Leap Frogging' during our descent

Like yesterday, kicking steps at the front of the group was physically demanding, but this time I didn’t have Ali around to do it for me. It’s always really important to make quality steps for a group, as it makes them feel much more secure and it becomes more like climbing a ladder – for them anyway! I found myself regularly checking behind me that everyone was feeling okay, but everyone seemed to be smiling through the puffing and panting.

Having topped out, it was only a short distance to the summit where everyone was keen for a group photo before taking shelter in the group shelters for 10mins for lunch.

With the visibility down to about 20m, it was important to make sure that we headed off from the summit in the right direction and kept close tabs on our progress. So, without much to visually focus on, the group used each other as markers. By taking a bearing from the map and sending a member of the group out to the limit of visibility (ensuring that they stood in line with the bearing), the rest of the group were able to walk to their position and then repeat the process – a technique called ‘leap frogging’. It was an ideal opportunity to practice this skill, which can make the world of difference in poor visibility.

This weekend has been a real treat. Great mountains, in decent winter conditions and shared with fantastic company! Thanks to everyone for a brilliant couple of days.

Looking at our route up the head wall

This weekend has been advertised to the Oswestry School cadets as a ‘Winter Skills’ weekend since September. The reality is that we never know what the conditions are likely to be in Snowdonia from one week to the next, never mind four or five months in advance. By Wednesday of this week, I was consigned to the fact all hope of any significant volumes of snow had gone and that the emphasis of the weekend would shift to summer walking or paddling. Having already packed my kit, it was only a couple of hours before we were due to leave yesterday, that I received a message saying, “Bring your winter gear” – the snow had arrived at the eleventh hour!

Being a cadet force, as part of the military system, we were able to take advantage of accommodation at Capel Curig Training Camp. Amazingly, we were the only unit on the camp so had the run of the place and, most importantly, no long queues in the cookhouse! The evening was spent issueing, checking and fitting kit before packing bags for today’s venture into the hills.

Ice axe arrest practice

When we left the Capel Curig this morning, the plan was to start our day from Ogwen Cottage and head up onto the Glyders. However, driving down the A5, we could see the Carneddau to the north covered in snow and sunshine. The combination was too much to resist, so we quickly changed plans and made our way up to FFynnon Lloer.

Looking for enough snow to give us chance to teach some crucial winter walking techniques, we headed for the the headwall at the back of the cwm, where the snow had accumulated in the northerly winds. We spent several hours on this snow slope, teaching and practicing the group in how to use their boots properly and using the ice axe to both prevent a slide and to stop themselves once already sliding.

The inverted rainbow!

We then finished of our ascent of the headwall. After 10 months of not being in the winter mountains, the climb through loose snow proved hard work and a reminder of the fact that I need to get out in it more often! However, Ali was at the front and having to do the hard work of kicking steps for the group, so I got off lightly. Once we’d topped out, we swung round to the left to take in the summit of Pen Yr Ole Wen.

It was while taking a short break at the summit cairn that we found ourselves looking at at inverted rainbow. I’ve never seen one before, and I’m sure that some will think that this picture has been ‘photoshoped’, but I can assure you that this is genuine. I’d love to know if someone can explain the science behind this unusual sight.

Once the rainbow had disappeared, we made our way round to the top of Carnedd Dafydd, which seemed straight forward enough after our slog up the headwall. With the afternoon disappearing quickly, and the promise of a cooked supper back in camp, we made a fairly speedy descent back past the eastern side of Ffynnon Lloer and on the the minibus.

It was a great day on the River Dee today. The river was running at a ’7′ on the gauge at the Old Mill, giving plenty of flow, but not making things too frantic. Combining that with a dry day and good company, made for a fantastic day to be out canoeing on the river. I met up with Chris and Matt, who both run their own outdoor activity businesses, for a day of personal skills practice, a social get together and a bit of fun in canoes.

Matt picking his way through some bouncy water

It took a little while to shuttle canoes and cars, to get them all in the right places, before we took to the water at Glyndyfrdwy. As is usually the case, we spent a few minutes just getting used to being back in our respective canoes, playing around with seating positions, moving kit around and getting a feel for the water flow. Having established that none of us had any particular agenda for the trip, except for an enjoyable paddle and a bit of a play on the more interesting water, we started to make our way with the current.

This stretch of the Dee makes for a brilliant day out for those with a bit of previous experience of canoeing on moving water. With numerous sections of interesting water to break up the gentle flowing river, there’s plenty to keep everyone interested. Matt, Chris and I made the most of the white water by staying on these sections and playing around on the waves, in the stoppers and practicing various skills. However, with most of these sections, there’s no problem with identifying the hazards, picking your line,  pointing your boat the right way and simply paddling straight through.

Whilst messing about, we all took a fair amount of water on board and emptying them out gave the ideal opportunity for a bit of early lunch and a more relaxed chat, before continuing towards Llangollen.

The weir at Horseshoe Falls has a viscous towback and is definitely one to avoid. You can pick a line through on the left, but you need to be sure that it’s clear enough of trees and flood debris and confident in your paddling or you could come seriously unstuck – if in doubt, miss it out. The alternative is to jump onto the Llangollen Canal, which is fed from the weir, and make a more leisurely end to the journey. As you might expect, we shot the weir on the left, drawing past a wedged tree to our right while being bounced about – short but fun!

Coming to the stone road bridge just before the Chainbridge Hotel, we took advantage of the eddies created by the bridge pillars to assess the water in front. Visual inspection confirmed a bit of local knowledge and we headed down the left one at a time, directly below the spectators at the hotel enjoying the entertainment, before moving right into calmer waters.

This section is closely followed by the Serpent’s Tail (Grade 3/4). On inspection, Chris and I both decided to give it a miss today but Matt was feeling more brave. With Chris and I both ready with throw lines, Matt approached through a huge wave train, taking on large amounts of water. With the canoe now less responsive due to it’s increased weight, Matt struggled to get lined up for Serpent’s itself. As a result, he wasn’t able to drive through the stopper at the bottom and found himself being dragged back until the boat was completely swamped and the stopper flipped him over. Matt resurfaced about 10m down river and I was able to easily swing him into an eddie while Chris sorted his boat out. Nothing like a bit of excitement! It must be said that, already soaked and with nothing to loose, Matt had another crack at it but missing out the wave train – no problem this time.

After that it almost felt that our trip was done. With a few more stoppers as we approached the Old Mill, I think we were all starting to look forward to warm dry clothes and a bite to eat. Thanks to both Chris and Matt for great day out, although I think my muscles are going to ache in the morning.

Looking to make the most of the milder conditions, Chris Hughes and I teamed up for a day’s paddling. We had hoped to paddle from Lanerfyl to Meifod on the Afon (River) Banwy, but inspection of the water levels at Llanfair Caereinion suggested that it would have been a bit of a scrape along the bottom. This wouldn’t have been much fun and, given the distance involved (26km), it probably wasn’t realistic with the current lack of daylight.

Chris trying to avoid the idiot with the camera!

With ‘Plan B’ already prepared, we headed for Newtown to jump on the River Severn for a shorter paddle down to Abermule. I’d never paddled this stretch before, and Chris hadn’t been on it for a few years, so it was a great opportunity for both of us to explore the river and have a bit of a play in the more interesting water.

It actually turned out to be a very pleasant paddle, with stretches of gently flowing river regularly broken up by sections of grade 2 water – a nice mix of touring with short sections to spice up the day. I’m sure I’ll be back again, but the Banwy remains on my hit list for the near future – maybe next time.

Last week I got a call from George, who was looking for a bit of help in working towards his Summer Mountain Leader award. I first met him about two and a half years ago when I was leading a wilderness expedition in the Scottish Highlands (sorry, I hadn’t started the blog back then) and George was a member of the group. Since then, he’s gone on to study outdoor education at college and is now working at an outdoor centre on the Isle of White, but is keen to get back into the hills properly and develop his leadership skills for the mountain environment.

We got together last week, over a coffee, to chat through the process, the award syllabus, the expectations and some general advice. However, we also decided that it would be good to get out into the hills for a day to put things into practice. Today was our day.

We headed into Cwm Maen Gwynedd on the eastern side of the Berwyns and did an anticlockwise loop of the horseshoe, taking in the tops of Mynydd Tarw, Foel Wen, Tomle, Cadair Berwyn, Moel Sych and Godor before dropping back down to the car.

The climb up Mynydd Tarw felt like a long slog after the excesses of Christmas, but was pleasant enough and we stopped for first lunch in the shelter of the cairn at the top. Our traverse across the top of the ridge towards Tomle was very wet underfoot (as it was the last time I was here), and the cloud started to close in making the navigational side of things more important – great practice for George. Once we hit the top of the main Berwyn ridge, heading south to Cadair Berwyn, we were exposed to some strong winds and driving rain that put pay to any conversation for a while.

After a stop for second lunch in the shelter to the south of Cadair Berwyn, we moved on to Moel Sych before dropping down to the east towards Llyn Lluncaws, where our eyes played tricks on us. It took us both a couple of minutes to realise that what we thought was a cloudy skyline was actually the edge of the lake. After picking up a fence line to use as a handrail, we had to keep concentrating as a number of additional fences have clearly been erected  since the map was last updated, and could easily have been misleading.

My memories my last visit to the top of Godor have haunted me for about six years now. I was on my own that day, and fell into an peat bog up to my chest! I still didn’t feel any solid ground with my feet and only stopped sinking because a managed to reach solid ground with my arms. Today’s visit passed without incident, and we gradually made our way back down out of the cloud to find the car by about 4pm.

It’s always great to spend a day in the hills. The weather could have been better, but the company made up for it. Thanks George!