The mountains are calling

Lowri Llewelyn has spent most of her life in North Wales, yet recently realised that the only mountain she’d fully climbed was Snowdon. Now she’s learning to become an ‘outdoorsy person’ while discovering the rest of the mountains in the Snowdonia National Park…

Despite having spent most of my life on the outskirts of the national park, the only peak I’ve ever attempted is that of Yr Wyddfa – and only via the well-trodden “Snowdon Highway” at that!

To remedy this, my friend James has taken me under his wing. Our first mission will be Y Garn – and is not without its anxieties for me.

Most of us raised in North Wales have an innate respect for nature. In 2022 the Ogwen Valley Mountain Rescue received 185 callouts, with Llanberis Mountain Rescue receiving 233 callouts respectively. We know not everyone will make it home safely despite the heroic efforts of volunteers.

James was first dragged up mountains by his father as a very small child and assures me conditions are good on our chosen day. It’s a week or two before Christmas, the majority of the ice and snow from that month’s cold snap having now melted.

Y Garn is one of a network of 15 peaks known as Eryri/ Snowdonia’s tallest, each reaching a minimum height of 3,000 feet. Y Garn clocks in at Wales’s tenth tallest. Before setting off, we stop to inspect the 3D map at the Cwm Idwal visitor center, where James traces his finger along the shore of Llyn Idwal, up the spine of the mountain and back down the rocky slope in a 4.5 mile loop.

I have completed the easy Llyn Idwal loop countless times, looking up at the mountain above and wondering what’s up there? Now, as we stop to greet some wild goats, I crane my neck and seriously doubt my ability to reach the top. James reassures me and I decide that by today’s end I will have conquered this mountain.

Every time I stop to catch my breath the lake seems to have shrunk even further, which motivates me to keep going.

James realised back at the car that I was woefully underprepared for the mountains and piled his spare layers on me accordingly. As we find a relatively sheltered spot beneath a stone wall for lunch, he digs more layers out of his bag to stop our bodies cooling too much.

I groan as it begins to rain, only to realise it’s the wind sending a whisper of waterfall in our direction. James warns me conditions will get tougher once we’ve crossed the wooden stile over this ridge.

Thank goodness for those layers: we may now be walking horizontally, but it’s so windy we stop talking to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. I stop to admire Llyn Y Cwn only for a moment before yanking my hat back down over my face.

Up here is like the surface of another planet. I always knew it existed, this alternate world high in the sky, but I only entirely believe it now I’m seeing it with my own eyes. The peak is in sight, but the relatively gentle slope with its zig zagging path deceives me. I should probably admit at this point that I am extremely unfit. After much huffing and puffing I eventually make it to the top, shepherded along by an extremely patient James.

Despite hiking this mountain around 15 times, James has never been lucky enough to make it to the top on a clear day. From an elevation of 947 meters and a rocky shelter built by generations of walkers, we see: Pen Yr Ole Wen; Tryfan;

So you want to hike Y Garn?

J Don’t underestimate the mountains; it’s best to go with a very experienced friend or a qualified mountaineering instructor.

J Check the weather forecast and, if conditions aren’t ideal, save it for another day. The mountains aren’t going anywhere.

J Provisions you’ll want to pack include: water, snacks, layers, waterproofs, LED torches with spare batteries, a compass, map and phone.

Glyders Fach and Fawr; Yr Wyddfa, just about; Llanberis and Elidir Fawr. Closer to the edge, meanwhile, are the navy depths of Llyn Idwal and Llyn Ogwen.

It takes longer to complete the hike than anticipated due to my aforementioned lack of fitness and we’ve made the crucial error of forgetting our torches. Because of this, we snap some quick photos and step up the pace on our way back down.

This is the only part of the walk that’s a little icy and my lack of experience means I lose my balance and fall on my bum a fair few times. Llyn Idwal doesn’t seem to be getting any nearer despite our descent; I unconsciously start singing (sorry James) in an effort to forget my aching muscles. I collapse in a starfish on the lake’s rocky shore just as the sky turns entirely black.

We drive back through the Ogwen Valley in silence, and life only returns to me with a drink next to the fire at The Bull in Bethesda. By the time my paper straw is soggy, I already want to know which mountain is next on our list. n

Lowri Llewelyn is a North Wales based journalist who is endlessly curious [read: nosy] and loves everything to do with this beautiful region that she is lucky enough to call home