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A3: CARNEDDAU: WESTERN RIDGES

Gentle walking around some of the less frequented Carneddau ridges.

Distance/Time:

14km (8½ miles). 4½ hours.

Ascent:

1000m (3300ft)

Major Summits:

Carnedd Dafydd – 1044m (3423ft)

Carnedd Llewelyn – 1064m (3485ft)

Yr Elen – 961m (3153ft)

Terrain:

Grass, stony paths, and one very wet section.

Main Summer Difficulties:

Descending from Yr Elen.

Winter Conditions:

Not recommended under deep snow, when a crossing of Cwm Llafar could be quite problematical.

Emergency Alternatives:

Descent into Cwm Llafar from Bwlch Cyfryw Drum (683637).

Special Problems:

Navigating onto Yr Elen from Carnedd Llewelyn in bad visibility.

Approach:

From Bethesda on the A5. Turn uphill from crossroads at the eastern town limit. Turn right at the crossroads after 1km and find a parking place in a narrow lane, taking care not to obstruct gates or passing places.

Start:

See Approach.

Finish:

As above.

ROUTE DESCRIPTION

At the end of the road there is a stile just right of the waterworks gate; another at the top left corner of the field; and a third soon after. The route then follows a stream bed (literally!) through a culvert, and then takes a drier path to more open terrain. A vague path parallel to the Afon Llafar leads over boggy ground, rising steadily, to a final stile, where the head of Cwm Lafar comes into view (½ hr).

The Cwm Llafar horseshoe seen from above Gerlan (Route A3)

A little further on, break up right to gain the ridge at a grass mound; and then follow it in its entirety to Carnedd Dafydd – first along a grass crest, then more steeply over boulders, and finally on the scree dome of the summit1 (1½ hrs).

Circle the head of Cwm Llafar, along a rocky path above the cliffs of Ysgolion Duon, to a shallow col, Bwlch Cyfryw Drum2 – below Carnedd Llewelyn. Continue up the scree path to the summit3 (1 hr).

Head tentatively north of west to find the path leading to Yr Elen. It goes down to the col4 above Llyn Caseg before rising – curving rightwards – to the flat summit.5 Descend a blunt ridge on the west side, keeping on the left (Cwm Llafar) flank when in doubt, to a level and grassy section. Continue along this shallow ridge, passing two rock bluffs.6 Either descend immediately into Cwm Llafar and gain the track on the far side, or continue along the shallow ridge to its end before crossing. Both are wet. Return as for the ascent (1½ hrs).

Bethesda is a sorry place. It seems always to be raining here, so that the main street twists through a hotch-potch of buildings like some grimy northern canal. Trapped by that vision, its people are wearing long coats and longer faces as they patrol the towpath. Car drivers wind up their windows and weave a way through, fearful of stopping in case they never get started again. The National Park boundary skirts the town limits and tries to look the other way.

Pinned to the hillside above Bethesda is the suburb of Gerlan; its funny little houses painted blue and pink, and so bound up with the earth that it is difficult to tell where the soil ends and their walls begin. Gerlan is the Shangri La of North Wales, for two decades perfectly preserving its community of hippies and drop-outs. The place absorbs oddities as readily as the sea.

Gerlan has proliferated to such a degree that its uppermost house-holders are able to gaze into the sacred confines of Cwm Llafar. But, as it happens, not many of them do; and so the path up from Gerlan waterworks into Cwm Llafar remains one of the quieter places in Snowdonia.

The right-bounding ridge of the cwm begins almost straight away and yet the valley path is much too comfortable to quit so early. Lazy men’s ways. Sooner or later, though, it must be abandoned for a short pull onto the neat and pathless grass of the ridge top. Over to the right now, beyond a shallow scoop in the mountainside, appears a mirage of exotic slabs. The slabs prove to be those of Carnedd y Filiast, a familiar landmark of the western end of the Glyders; and yet from here they seem much too close for that, as if the intervening Ogwen Valley had been secretly filled in during the night.

Looking back down the ascent ridge of Route A3 towards Gerlan and the Menai Straits

Height gained on this gentle ridge, gradually accumulated over the preceding minutes without obvious effort, suddenly translates itself into the depth of a huge bowl which is confronted at a turn in the ridge. Far below, rising up from deep within the central well, is the Llech Ddu Spur, reflecting light from its crest like a gold comb. The cliff which supports it stands subdued at its base, dark against the mottled grass of the basin floor. At the far side of the cwm, partly hidden by the spur, are ranged the dismal tiers of Ysgolion Duon – the Black Ladders; while at the nearer curve are grouped dozens of smaller cliffs, few of them explored much beyond this and other simple surveys from the rim.

There is more to do now. A steep and curving ascent around the lip – easy at first but then more awkwardly over lichenous boulders – is slow to close the gap to Carnedd Dafydd. The bowl must be even bigger than it seemed.But eventually there comes the summit cone of stones, a sense of approach, and with that a promise of views towards the main peaks of the Glyders. But Dafydd is deep within the Carneddau: the views that way are disappointing. In recompense there is a retrospect of the ridge just climbed; dramatically lit in the slant rays of late afternoon, it appears as a gigantic tail laid out by a sunning lizard.

When circling the Black Ladders on this walk, thereis a tendency to keep tight to the edge; as if walkers, having earned the privilege over the preceding hours to do so,are now determined to exercise the right. In winter, sometimes, while sitting here with the rocks and a view of your ridge, ice climbers will appear from below to come and sit in the sun with you, their duvet jackets incongruous in the sudden warmth and light after the cold waits and sunless struggles below. Those passing by on gentler paths away from the edge are doubtless over from Pen yr Ole Wen and deserve none of this camaraderie.

Beyond all rocks – from Bwlch y Cyrfyw Drum – an easy glide would have you down in the Cwm Llafar bowl, just a few boulders and bogs away from the grassed-over cart-track down to Gerlan. But the enterprise is only half done: ahead lies Llewelyn, beckoning from a bed of stones. And when Llewelyn calls, you go.

So large and flat is the summit area that you need to head out a good way towards Yr Elen before being sure that it is indeed the way you must go. A bit like hoisting the mainsail to see which way the wind blows. But what an appealing peak Yr Elen is – and all the more attractive for being less trodden than its bigger neighbours. It is difficult to pin down the reason for its appeal, though perhaps it is a combination of many things: the slender neck of its connecting ridge; the tiny teardrop lake sunk deep in its shadowed cwm; the view north towards other, even more remote, western ridges. On reaching the actual summit there is also an undeniable sense of satisfaction that the circling of Cwm Llafar is complete, and that now it really is downhill all the way.

Not so simple. The first downhill section is a steep ridge of economically spread scree which demands more concentration than any other part of the walk; and especially now when legs are tired and apt to let themselves get carried away. But the ridge turns to grass soon enough, its gentle undulations peaking here and there in rock nipples. It is at the second of these that the presence of doom, previously only a nagging doubt, sinks home with all the certainty of a dropped egg: The Bog. The bog is all pervading, all consuming, and all across the bottom of the valley. It separates you and the Llafar track on the far side – a not inconsiderable distance.

Looking back towards Carnedd Dafydd during the ascent to Carnedd Llewelyn on Route A3

Near the summit of Yr Elen on Route A3

There is just one happy consequence: after the bog, negotiating the stream path down the culvert to the waterworks is child’s play. And so back to Gerlan with a grin on your face and a smelly black tidemark somewhere up above your knees. So now who’s the oddity?