Wales Coast to Coast — Stage 13: Llandovery to Cray Reservoir

Summary

One hundred and fifty miles done and less than 100 to go! I was into my last week of the Wales Coast to Coast as I left Llandovery in the company of Strolling Steve who was to accompany me for the first three of the final six days. With my chum alongside me this was going to be fun! Today we were heading into the Brecon Beacons National Park to rejoin the Cambrian Way and also join with the Beacons Way on the crossing of the Black Mountain area in the west of the National Park. We had six miles of Welsh countryside to cross first on a constant climb to the Brecon Beacons — let's go, shall we?

The Walk

“What is this? The sun is shining! I have not seen it for almost a week,” I said to Steve on the start of our walk from the car park at Llandovery Castle. “Because I am here to look after you now,” he replied! We had enjoyed a good night in Brecon catching up, and after a debacle of buses and taxis in the early morning we were happy to be off at last, all the better for having some sunshine on our faces. The weather forecast was fair enough, with a decent morning and the chance of showers in the afternoon. Oh, logistics had been planned too: we had arranged with the taxi driver for a pickup at a lay-by on the A4067 near Cray Reservoir for 5:00 PM, giving us six and a half hours to get the walk done (we were cutting it fine, but Steve and I usually kept up a good pace!).

The start of the walk was good, with not too much climbing for the first four miles to Myddfai. With a mix of field crossings, country lanes, tracks, and short sections of road the walk was very interesting with its diversity, and it was on this stretch I first noticed an acceleration into spring: here today on 13th June 2013 many of the local trees were budding and some showing fresh green leaf, and bluebells were breaking out in the woodland — welcome colour I had not seen further north and in the week of gloom in mid-Wales! With the smile of new-season colour we enjoyed a walk on a holloway cut two metres deep by years of foot and cart traffic. Some of the fields were stocked with sheep or cattle; one field had a ferocious-looking bull in it, but to our relief he stood still and watched us as we passed him (I do not think approaching him was a proposition though!).

More of the same — fields, woodland paths, tracks, and roads — led us to the pretty village of Myddfai. Everything was quiet as we walked past the well-kept buildings within the village (some paint-washed cottages were very appealing: some white, some cream, and some light blue), and St Michael's village church was impressive too. After Myddfai we continued on our way, and having picked up the course of the Cambrian Way once more we stayed with it on our way into the hills. After following tarmac road for a mile from Myddfai the tarmac ended at Sarnau, and then the real climbing started — we were soon on a 1-in-3 ascent and making height quickly.

Just one mile of walking (or climbing) saw Steve and I ascend 200 metres — we had arrived in the Black Mountain region of the Brecon Beacons! For clarity, the National Park can be attributed as three parts: West = Black Mountain; Centre = Brecon Beacons; East = Black Mountains. Black Mountain and the Black Mountains are entirely different in nature: while the Black Mountains are in the main a line of whaleback ridges in line with each other and separated by parallel valleys, Black Mountain (which Steve and I were now about to cross) is a vast area of open upland moor. There are distinct hills in the Black Mountain and we were heading directly towards them, but the general and dominating factor is the openness and consequently the feeling of wildness.

As we paused after our first climb on the west side of Mynydd Myddfai and looked at the scene — including a grand look back over the fields of Carmarthenshire — I noticed the clouds of early afternoon were building. It was still fine, still sunny now and then, but some malevolence was definitely brewing.

We cracked on — we had a schedule to keep and a taxi to meet. First the going was okay, good in fact, as we skirted across Fedw Fawr and then continued onwards with good pace following the line of the Cambrian Way towards a set of hills on our agenda and which we could see across the moor. They seemed close and we felt we would be on them in short time — a misconceived thought! They were in fact five miles distant in the south, and between us and them were some hidden pitfalls. Literally.

What we had not taken into account when planning the pickup with the taxi driver at the end of today's walk was the amount of climbing we would do to get there — at 1,570 metres of climbing and with just a tad short of 18 miles to cover, my Walk Time Calculator would have told me the walk would take around 11 hours (with a break, over 11 hours). We had given ourselves just less than seven! We talked about it: “We can still do it,” one of us will have said, and the other will have agreed. Then came the obstacles: the dips down to cross fledgling rivers such as Afon Clydach and the numerous feeder streams crossing our path followed by the climb-ups from them were a hindrance — they slowed our progress and drained us of energy, but still we cracked on regardless. A nice distraction from the effort was finding a spiralled stone circle in the middle of the moor.

Eventually Steve and I reached the point where we met with the Beacons Way to climb the hills we had been focusing on, walking past the glacial tarn of Llyn y Fan Fach on the way up. Our luck was out — the Lady of the Lake did not produce Excalibur for us (Llyn y Fan Fach is reputed to be the lake of the lady after all... a different lady of the lake, I hear — so many legends, it is hard to keep up with them all!). Up a bank went Steve and I to reach the summit line of Picws Du and Foel Fach. Named subsidiary peaks on the mass of Fan Brycheiniog, we wandered the top, but not for long — the storms we had sensed and which we had seen coming arrived quickly! One minute we were in sunshine, the next we were being buffeted in a hailstorm. The ice stones hurt, and we clambered down the north-east facing bank of Fan Brycheiniog to find some shelter. We found some on a bank overlooking Llyn y Fan Fawr (the sister lake to Llyn y Fan Fach), and we took a quick lunch through the worse of the storm (not a long lunch mind you!).

We could not stay long in shelter as time was pressing and we had to get a move on — we had an hour to cover three miles and head off the taxi. There was not much talking now! More hailstorms struck us as we tracked south-east following Nant y Llyn, and then a bloody-heck sight hit us in the chops: there was one final descent and climb we had not accounted for (well, we had overlooked it when inspecting the map last night). There we were, stood looking down to the River Tawe — beyond the river was a road (not our road), and beyond the road was a 200-metre climb! “Bloody hell, we're jiggered,” was the least of it. Steve was tired — he is usually the stalwart of our walks, but had not been out on a long one like this for ages. I was hardened by the last couple of weeks, so I said to him: “Make it as quick as you can. I will run down and climb up the other side as quick as I can — from the top I could scout for the taxi and wave to it. So I thought.”

And so I went down and over the river; I got across unscathed by use of my walking poles for balance. Strolling Steve wasn't so lucky and fell in! Not having time to rescue him I crossed the minor road and climbed the 200 metres to the top of the hill on the other side. From my vantage point I could see the meeting point on the A4067, but it was still a mile away, and I saw a car parked — at distance like a Corgi toy, but a car all the same! I waved and star-jumped as I rushed down the hill to the rendezvous, but no response from the car — and then gloom: the car left! It drove away and out of sight. I sat down and waited for Steve. 30 minutes later we were down by the meeting point, one hour late — we had taken eight hours! Fortunately after a short time the taxi drew up beside us and offered two bedraggled walkers sanctuary.

From my Facebook post in the evening: “Today began with comedy... The walk was a pleasant passage of varied paths through woodland, across green fields, on quiet lanes and a short section of unfenced road to Myddfai... As we climbed the terrain changed... We reached the top of Mynydd Myddfai, our first Brecons Beacon hill. From the top we were greeted with stunning views of a vast rolling landscape... As we descended in grim conditions we came to a river crossing over the Afon Tawe. I got across unscathed... Strolling Steve wasn't so lucky and fell in. He was not amused! Moreover after the river we came to a road which we crossed to be faced with a climb up Cefn Cul... Fortunately after a short time trying to find it the taxi drew up beside us and offered two bedraggled walkers sanctuary... Today the weather forecast is looking very grim with rain due to set in all day. Do we stick to my intended route over the tops or do we revert to a vector course across the lower foothills? Time will tell.”