This trip was to Bannau Brycheiniog.
Specifically Fan Llia in the central part of the park was the destination for this particular trip, one which had a mixed bag of a start, but ended up being a very splendid hike and camp indeed.
It started as most of my hikes do, on the Friday when I usually travel to my destination, and although my trip went as well as could be expected, my buddy’s trip started well but ended up being something of a headache. As he got close to the park up, his Sat-Nav didn’t take him to the exact location we were supposed to meet, and in this remote location with poor signal he found himself flying around all over the place. However, after a little bit of exploring he finally found the spot, parked up, used a little bit of colourful language, and we both got ready for the hike up the hill.
Neither of us had been to this particular location before and we were both exited to see what we could see. As usual we had planned a route we thought would give us the best experience, but I don’t really think either of us expected to follow it precisely, we never do. But onwards and upwards we went following what we thought was the path, and in true hillwalking fashion it became a little bit sketchy from time to time, but nevertheless we made good time navigating back to the path whenever we found it, panting like a couple of old pit ponies.
Soon enough though we had made it to the first crest, and in the distance we saw the peak of the hill that was our destination. About another half an hour and we were there, and having already made the decision to spend the night there we started the usual hunt for the best spot to pitch. It had been raining quite a bit in the previous 24hrs and a lot of the area was still fairly soggy. But a bit of toing and froing later we had found what we considered to be the best spot. It was slightly down the ridge from the peak, well drained, and had great views. Besides it was getting dark and we were both pretty knackered from the long drive and starting to get hungry.
It didn’t take long to get pitched, it never does, we’re both pretty experienced and apart from a little bit of senior reconsideration regarding the exact position of the tent we both got the stoves lit, water boiled, and food eaten. Now, it’s usually at this point, after setting up, feeding, and starting to feel a bit more like social animals that we crack open the bar. Tonight was no exception. We both had our favourites with us, him with his 0% beer, and me with a fully leaded Rioja. It was either that or the Malbec because I brought two with me this time. Choices choices.
Being one of the quieter spots in the park, and nowhere near any of the honeypot locations that appeal to the Instagram generation, we knew that there would be no rush to get up and packed away in the morning, so we took full advantage and stayed up late chatting away about all the stuff you do on these occasions. After so many years of heading out on my own solo trips I now find having company a very pleasant change, and staying up late chatting outside somewhere remote in good company with a nice wine is one of the more pleasant parts of any trip these days.
But, at some point two tired old men went to bed and slipped into their respective pits for a well deserved and much needed sleep.
In true Brecon fashion, as anyone who has ever been there will tell you, the weather must have taken a bit of a turn in the night, because early in the morning there was almost zero visibility because of low cloud, and the rain had started to fall. Steadily at first, but then much heavier. Having been out for the usual morning relief and crawled back into my bag before the heavy rain started, I lay there listening to the tapping of the drops as they hit the fly, thinking that this was going to be a pretty miserable weekend getting soaked in the cold with no real means of drying off.
You see, I had made the unforgivable schoolboy error of not taking my waterproofs with me. Having diligently checked the mountain weather forecast for days beforehand, I felt confident that the rain had passed earlier and was going to be clear for the weekend. But this is Brecon, and no such assumptions should ever be made. Lady Wales is not generally known for going easy on folks like us, especially when we should know better.
Lying in my pit and listening to what was now hard rain, I felt my spirits drop and my mood changed to one of building up for the endurance challenge that lay ahead.
But as I said this is Brecon, and things change, usually quite quickly. For about 15 mins the rain came down hard, and then as quickly as the downpour started, it stopped. Thinking I needed to take advantage of the pause I got myself up and started to make a brew while I got properly dressed, but as I did this the most amazing thing happened. The cloud we were in cleared away leaving some spectacular views to the lake below and across to the other side of the valley. Not only that, but the cloud at altitude started to part and diminish as well, bringing with it the hopeful rays of early morning sunlight. The Skylarks wasted no time whatsoever in lifting themselves into the air and singing for all they were worth.
For me, the song of the Skylark is synonymous with hiking, summer, and all that’s good with the world. For most of the year they can be heard singing their hearts out wherever you go, and I have had the pleasure of their company during some of the best and worst moments in my life. So whenever I can hear their song, I know I’m in the right place at the right time. And on this morning they heralded what was to become a stunningly beautiful morning.
With my brew in hand I stood there and just took it all in, the views, the peace, and the warmth of the sun as the breeze began to drop. I was in my church.
Not long after that my buddy woke and started to make moves. A bit of a chat about the rain etc. and before we knew it breakfast was on the go.
Now, this is something I really do have to talk about. Breakfast. For many years breakfast was porridge, basic simple, filling. Then came the all day breakfast MRE, a good another reasonable choice if you like that sort of thing, and I’ve been having these for a while now, and I’ve been happy with them.
The last time I went out with my buddy he gave me one of his pocket eggs to include into the MRE, and I have to say that it gave the experience a whole new dimension. It added more texture and taste, and made it even more filling, and so this weekend the egg was added again. Only this time another addition was made. Along with the pocket eggs my buddy had brought some of those fancy meat crisps made from real pancetta, or chorizo, with the intention of adding those to the MRE along with the egg.
What was created can only be described as the very best breakfast meal I have ever had on any hill anywhere, ever. This is no exaggeration, I can honestly say that what I ate that morning was nothing short of spectacular. A basic mylar bag of baked beans with skull scraping sausage, fatty bacon bits, and reconstituted egg is normally a good start to any hikers day. But with the addition of a pocket egg and a bag of dried meaty crisps, elevated this breakfast bag into something truly incredible. I heartily recommend it to anyone willing to give it go, you will not be disappointed.
So, after the hearty repast above we steadily packed up our kit (we were in no rush) and made our way back to the top of the ridge and headed out for the day. Our planned route was a simple figure of eight, along the ridge, around the head of the valley to the other side then across it going down then back up, to a point where we would cross our initial path on the ridge, then back to the vehicles after spending another night somewhere.
But like most of our walks this was only guidance, and not a detailed route to be precisely followed.
The first part of the walk that morning took us along the main ridge which was fairly easy going to be fair, and we made good progress as we chatted away.
By the time we had made it to the head of the valley we were feeling ready for a break and something to eat. So we took our packs off, settled down, and I got a brew on the go. Along the way we were keeping an eye out for likely spots to pitch for the night and decided that we would continue on for a while given that there was still plenty of daylight left, and make our way back to somewhere near to where we were and pitch for the night. A sound plan indeed.
The weather had only improved during the day. The temperature had risen and the wind dropped even further, making the walk incredibly pleasant. With barely a cloud in the sky the April sun shone down on us, beating off the usual chill that would normally accompany this time of year. Cool enough not to sweat profusely, warm enough to not need many layers, and the bright sun just lit up the landscape before us, affording some incredible views of Fan Brycheiniog to the west, and Corn Ddu and Pen Y Fan to the east.
So after a bit of food and a brew, we hitched up and set off to roughly where we were supposed to be going around the head of the valley. Once on the other side, and having had a closer look at the next stage of the walk the decision was made to alter the route so that we would end up where we wanted to be and at the time we wanted to be there. So instead of climbing the hill facing us we set off down into the valley with the intention of crossing at the bottom and making our way back up towards the head.
As I said before, this was not one of the more popular areas and as such from this point on the paths, which were not always clear anyway, became impossible to follow, and ultimately ran out. We were in CRoW designated land, and as such we were permitted to walk where we liked (but always with due care and consideration), and wandered our way down the valley side to where a number of water features made navigation a tad more interesting than we bargained for, but undeterred we carried on winding our way through the long grass and over the odd water feature heading back uphill towards our pitch for that night.
After about four false crests we finally found a suitable spot and busied ourselves getting set up, pitching tents, laying out sleep kit and readying the stoves. We’d actually made pretty good time and had set up well before dark which gave us an opportunity for a well deserved nap.
One of the very best things (amongst many others) about being in one of the more remote and less visited areas is the ability to pitch early and really enjoy the area without the scornful looks of passing hikers heaping judgement upon you. I know it’s not really the done thing, but pitching early means you can really relax, unwind, and appreciate the views in peace with a good feed and a mug of something nice.
The sun as it fell behind the hills to the west was nothing short of magical, providing a show of yellows and oranges that left us watching until there was nothing left to see but the stars and the satellites. After a lot more chatting and a bit more wine it was time for bed again thinking I was in for another great night’s sleep. I could not have been more wrong.
I spent the entire night waking every few minutes (at least that what it felt like) feeling incredibly cold on my legs. Normally I get changed into my thermal long johns and a matching top, crawl into my bag and sleep like a baby. Wearing the thermals inside my bag that has a comfort rating of –3c keeps me warm and toasty even on very cold nights, especially as my sleeping pad is rated at 7.5r. Unfortunately, I broke with tradition and left my base layer, mid layer, and fleece on, probably because I was very sleepy and didn’t think about it. My schoolboy error meant that my top half (my core) heated up incredibly, while my legs had to deal with a huge temperature difference leaving them feeling as though they were incredibly cold, which of course they were not.
A lesson re-learned for sure; a layer against the skin, a good bag, and a good pad is more than enough to keep you warm even in low temperatures. Not only that, but you should also keep your layers even, so you don’t overheat one area of the body.
What that all meant, was that in the morning I felt really tired and basically crashed for about an hour after eating breakfast.
I felt a lot better once I awoke and made my apologies for delaying our morning. Embarrassing as it was, it was a lesson learned (again), and I vowed never to make it again. Trust your kit and keep your wits about you.
Anyway, we finally got packed up and worked out the best direction to head off that would take us back to the ridge we started on, and started walking. Getting back to the main path was no real issue, a bit uphill, a bit of long grass, and a couple of hundred metres and we there. And so it was for a while at least. But as I mentioned before, this was an area that was less travelled and it wasn’t too long before the path kind of disappeared. Not in an abrupt way, more like it just fizzled out. But we knew which direction to go so there was no issue, it’s just that a track or path can make the going so much easier than walking through long grass on uneven terrain, and is therefore always desirable if possible.
However, for the life of us we couldn’t quite make out where the path was and so we headed out thinking we would pick it up later, which of course we did, but not after realising it was there all the time, we just didn’t see it for what it was and spent time on a harder path than was necessary. All part of the fun I guess.
The rest of the walk back was uneventful in terms of any mistakes or lost paths etc. But was glorious due to the sun pouring down on us and the spectacular views of the area. In usual fashion we made good progress and decided to take a breather at the cairn at the peak of Fan Llia. Packs off, sat down on a rock seat, the views down to the lake and across the valley were well worth the effort to get there, and we spend a few relaxing minutes refuelling and resting our weary bodies.
The area at the top has a plethora of small rain pools that must be quite persistent, because a few of them had spawn and tadpoles in them, and we saw a lizard/newt type of creature scitter away in front of us before we had a chance to get a good look. All of which meant that there is a thriving ecosystem based on clean replenished water, untainted by any kind of pollution. A heartwarming thought for sure.
It’s moments like these that make it all worthwhile, being there in a spectacular location, present in the moment, with no other considerations to distract from the effect it has on the soul. Life affirming stuff for sure.
But as with all trips, it had to come to an end, and so we lifted our packs onto our tired old bodies and began the journey downhill, back to where we had parked, and after another few minutes of losing the path and then finding it again towards the bottom of the hill, we finally made it back to the vehicles.
This moment always carries with it mixed emotions. A touch of sadness that another great hike and camp has come to an end, relief that I can take off the pack and not have to lift it again and change my boots for some softer footwear. But happiness at having completed a good workout, seen some great things, and now get to travel home, back to our loved ones.
This was another great example of how your mood can change in a short period of time depending on conditions and circumstances, and of how lessons can be learned and relearned. Of how being in the present moment brings peace and calm, and reminds me of how important the simple thing in life are.
I hope I never take it for granted, or forget just how important these environments are, and I hope above all else that I continue to enjoy them for as many years to come as I can mange.
Until next time.
A note on the kit I took.
This time I took my 3FUL Taiji 2 tent with the replacement poles. It’s supplied with reasonable 8mm Ali poles, but with it being a decent size dome tent, 8mm poles can have a tendency to flex a bit too much in wind. So some a while ago I purchased some replacement 10mm poles that fit perfectly, and double guyed the lines. This simple modification has made this tent incredibly stable in wind, not Hilleberg Black stable, but not a million miles off.
My pad was the Lightour 7.5r pad which is great in the cold, and my trusty Snugpak Softie Elite Hawk 9 sleeping bag which has a comfort rating of -3C (snigger), the snigger is because this rating, as with all bag manufacturers, is a subjective thing.
I had my Soto Windmaster gas stove with me as I always do. This stove is simply the best I have ever used and can see no reason to use anything else now. This stove coupled with my small pots that have a heat ring on the base means that I can boil enough water for a brew in less time than it takes me to sort the tea bag and sugar.
The pack I’ve been using for a while now, and has become a firm favourite is one from a German manufacturer. It’s called the Phoenix 65 from Portal and comes in with a hefty cost of £65. You get what you pay for, usually, but this pack has been used and abused for the last two and a half years carrying an average of 18-19kg when setting out. It’s comfortable, pretty hard wearing and not heavy, despite the low cost. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED.
