Clwyd Hills Circuit

Present: Dave Bone*, Dave Shotton*, Alan (L) Jones, Alan Peck*, Peter Walker, John & Virginia Castick, Alan (H) Jones* + Christine and the 2 Grand National Hellhounds(½ *), Brian Taylor*, Roger Dyke and Dave Wylie*. [* - completed full circuit].

 

And after the rain, came? Sunshine! The drive out from Manchester to Mold was under thick fog from the M6, but this was expected to dissipate. Pulling up the hill from Tafarn-y-Gelyn, we emerged into clear skies and brilliant sunshine, tendrils of mist retreating into the valley. I followed a car into the car-park at the pass - (L) Jones visiting old haunts but at a slower pace. A pleasant surprise - a pound fed the meter for a whole day, but note was taken of the advisability to return by 6pm. Car by car the KMC gathered and it got very confusing - it would seem that several walks were taking place though at the same time, and that 'we' shouldn't wait for any at the back. The sun now clear of the yardarm (Foel Fenlli), we strode forth out of the car park at the appointed hour with a burst of demonic howling (all canine, I think).

No gentle start, but straight up the hill, alleviated by a zig-zag or two. Instantly the pace was set up the dogs forging their way towards the front, humans in pleased or reluctant tow. Mud and canine strength were the undoing for Christine. However, the climb was short, emerging onto the hill fort of Foel Fenlli where we re-gathered for an extended stop (the dogs would have to be patient), and the extensive views in the clear, warm air. Fog was in some of the valleys and out to see, and above this the hills of Snowdonia and further south were crystal clear - enough to see little snow left in the gullies. Inadequate attempts were made by all to photograph the scene (but if you did succeed, why aren't they here?). Reluctant to leave, but a walk was to be done, so the leader forced the issue by striding off.

Southwards steeply, thus stringing out the team, followed by a regroup at the foot by a dilapidated fence. Articles of clothing were removed as the temperature soared (for February). As the final members hove into sight, there was a mighty yelp as Midge made an electrifying discovery. Not so as innocent as the unlabelled fence appeared, the top wire had been casually lent on. The length of insulating pipe by the stile ought to have been a clue. Now attempting to navigate the fields, the party headed south eastwards. A number of bottleneck stiles, leapt with enthusiasm by one, less so after encouragement at the rear by the other canine member. Extendable arms would be useful, humans having a thought for the landing. The onwards route became less clear and the group were forced over the gate. While the leader attempted to fathom the Gordian knot, Alan was persuading the dogs to steeple-chase the gate. With "I don't want to see this" looks the party were astounded to see amid a scrabbling of limbs both Grand National entrants clear the gate, though the landing lacked finesse. By various devious routes the road was attained and the way became comparatively easier.

In Limestone country now and after some not unpleasant, Snowdrop lined, road walking, it was into woods for the Northbound section. After an early lunch/late elevenses in a clearing, the walk resumed with the party strung out - at a poor pace of 2hours for the first ~3miles, the rate had to be stepped up, Peter and Alan (L) silently departing from the back on a shorter return option through the conifers back to the cars. As the trees weren't in leaf, the cave en-route was spotted and three 'ferrets' zipped into the depths. Nothing was flushed, and 3 bats were left sleeping, probably the fading "no access" sign was their protection. Into the bustling surrounds of Loggerheads and the party split into short version (teastop), and full version groups. So were the canines, and with unearthly howling, the 6 + 1 of team A stormed into the country-park on a mission (part A - to escape the madding crowds).

After some high-speed walking the level track ended at a river crossing on the turn left to Cilcain. Now on roads, the perils of dog leads were discussed - those that were extendable being vilified. You can keep the friction burns though. A final break at spot ht. 304 to check progress - much better, 2½ hours left for the final 5mi. Soon we were on the last steep pull onto the main ridge, dog to the fore as usual, and able to enjoy the easy procession onto Moel Famau.

Still quite mild with the sun low in the clear sky. Finally up the steps into the remnants of the Jubilee Tower on top, complete with indicator panels for the views.

With the sun low and a bite to the air, we left the summit on the uncomfortable stone path (with some determined to look up the history of the uncompleted summit tower [Started for the Golden Jubilee of George III]) for the final motorway mile. We picked up Roger on the way, who hadn't reached the summit because of an opportunity of deep conversation. Will cause embarrassment - tales of multiple tea stops were told on the downhill race. The sun set crisply below the serrated horizon - no Green Flash I'm afraid (never convincingly observed), and we were back at a still well occupied car park at 5:15, ahead of schedule. The Canines were disappointed at not having completed the full Clwyd hills traverse - maybe next time. My thanks to those who came out on a splendid day - a recharge from all the poor days that came before and those yet to come.

[I met Derek Walker (BMC) just before I got back to the car and he asked after KMC members. Alan (L).]

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Dave Bone