The tallest mountain in England and Wales is Snowdon. It’s 3559 feet tall. Despite this, it has a reputation as a pussycat because there is a railway that takes people to the top and back again so even people with very limited mobility can get to the top. Not only that but there are several paths up the mountain of varying degrees of difficulty. “It’s a pussycat”, they say!
As a child, despite living only thirty miles or so from the mountain, I never went up it. As an adult holidaying on Anglesey a couple of time I also never went up it. On this holiday, my only real desire was to get to the top of Snowdon. I didn’t feel any need to be heroic about it – I do lots and lots of walking with the dogs and have spent the week in Snowdonia doing just that so we elected to go up Snowdon by train. That’s where the pain started…….
The Snowdon railway doesn’t allow dogs on it, I can’t imagine why. Anyway, it doesn’t. That meant if we wanted to do this thing we’d have to walk. There are several of varying degrees of difficulty and length and we elected to do “the easy walk” from Llanberis to the summit is about 5 miles each way so a round trip of 10 miles but it’s easy so it’s not a big problem.
I was told that people do the easy walk in flip-flops and with small children in pushchairs, it’s that easy. I was told that my parents did it with my grandmother and her younger sister in quite recent times, it’s that easy. I’m reasonably fit. I CAN walk. It’s easy.
Easy my arse. That’s all I’ve got to say.
It took three hours of bloody hard walking to get to the top, where we were hoping for a drink, a bit of cake and a sit-down in the café. Ha. Not to be. The café won’t allow dogs in. Not only that but it was effectively closed for the day by the time we got there so all that we could do was get some coffee to drink outside and a couple of dried up old Welsh Cakes that had obviously been sitting around all day. Strangely they don’t have any outside seating despite having a bit of space that would be very suitable for a couple of picnic benches so we had to squat on the floor of the entrance way. Of course sadly the fact that it’s three hours to get to the top means it’s also three hours to get back down again.
The absolute pinnacle of the mountain is about another 30-40 feet above the café and DM shot this photo from there. He went to the top but I did not. I was so paralysed by fear that I couldn’t bring myself to go the extra few feet because I was so afraid of being blown off the mountain. I know, I know, that sort of thing doesn’t happen to lard-arses like me, it happens to little waif-like things but believe me, I really thought it was a possibility.
David and the dogs are photographed about forty feet from the top. I shot the pic for two reasons – firstly I’d promised Woodside Animal Rescue (where JD came from) some shots of his holiday adventures and secondly to give me a few minutes to pluck up the courage to walk back across this bit of the path that’s a sheer drop on both sides with wind whistling across it. I’m calling it the top because I think that little pile of stones that really is the top is just a pile of stones too far for me.
The last third of the climb (and first third of the descent) has sheer drops down from one or other side and I spent that bit of the walk looking directly at the ground a few feet in front of my feet. It also has (allegedly) great views but I didn’t see them because I was so scared.
There is a sense of achievement at having made the trip (and made it on foot) but believe me I won’t be doing it again, however much of a lightweight that makes me in my family’s eyes. They’re welcome to the fell walking. I’m sticking to things that don’t make me terrified at every footstep.
