Cwm Llafar Horseshoe..dogs, bogs and a hitch-hiker!

What a strange combination, a sunny bank holiday weekend! With such perfect weather it seemed criminal not to venture out, but I knew I'd not be alone. Got myself up and out with a mountain walk in mind, but as I drove I still had no plan as to where, though I was driving to Snowdonia.
In the end I stopped at the side of the A5 just out of Bethesda by Ogwen Bank in a shaded lay-by above the river. A cup of tea and a glance at my map and my mind was settled.a walk I'd not done before...with my own little addition from the usual route.
View of the Cwm Llafar horseshoe from the start above Bethesda, Dafydd on the right Yr Elen left...gnarly dogs through the trees in front!

I left the car where it was..in the shade and crossed over and into the small forest of Braich Melyn. They've been logging here and the smell of pine wood in the warming morning air was soothing as the cooling last dew in the clearings was refreshing. I touched the edge of the village and followed the Afon Llafar upstream through old trees and a boulder garden which made for some lovely waterfalls which are probably rarely visited.
Now the landscape changed to farmland and sheep pasture, with a distant view of my intended climb. I don't like walking over farms, even though there is a right of way, I'm always aware that I'm probably not welcome. Even worse when the path goes through the farmyard...there are always dogs..I'm not keen on dogs and they usually know it. So after a worrying woofing at...I was very happy to be out on open moorland!
The dark cliffs of Llech Du on the left appear to bar the way. A diagonal climb over large scree first right then doubling back left unlocks the way up.
My big decision! To climb Carnedd Dfydd in front of me I had a choice of branching right and taking the gently rising grassy slopes of Mynydd Du. I could already see a couple of walkers take this route. Or continue up the narrowing valley and try and locate a scrambling route which I remember reading about sometime ago, through Crib Lem. I chose the latter, the valley scenery was worth the risk that I might have to turn back...I wish I'd brought my scrambling guide book along!
Part way up Crib Lem, looking up towards the summit of Carnedd Dafydd.

Took a lunch break beneath the dark cliffs of Llech Du, above which the ridge leads up to the summit. I watched a couple of small groups take a steep path to the right of the cliffs and between a waterfall, continuing up a stone- fall and doubling back to the left. Soon found myself in the same place and enjoyed the quick height gain.
The scrambling starts at the very top of the cliffs and I felt slightly daunted by the continuous stretch of rock steps and hurdles in front. It's always the same the first time on a new route, but as ever one step at a time and never climb up something you can't climb back down...I got myself in state on Tryfan in the past and still remember the sickening feeling of thinking I was stuck.
In the end I enjoyed the climb. The rock is good and gives nice hand and foot holds. There is no real direct exposure, but a very definite feeling of being on the crest of a ridge with the obstacles coming fairly constantly for an hour or so.
Looking back down the ridge, watching climbers progress. The Afon Llafar winds distantly below.

I'd shared my climb with a handful of others, helping and guiding each other when necessary. So it as a bit of a shock but not really a surprise to meet the huge walking groups already up from other routes. I like sharing the mountains..but groups numbering more than five or six just don't look right. We're talking coach loads! So I raced up Carnedd Llewelyn and beyond without stopping. Took a solitary break at crags overlooking Yr Elen, the final peak of my horseshoe. Looking down into Fynnon Caseg (Mare's Spring), I could just make out two mountain ponies by the shore!
Yr Elen is a mountain to savour, majestically standing centrally in the range with Anglesey and the Irish Sea beyond

Yr Elen stands alone from the other mountains. From here I could see back to my whole route and plan ahead for the way back. There is no path marked on the map across quite a large open area. In reality there is a very steep scree path which gives way to grassy slopes to the North East and the crags at Foel Ganol. I stayed with high ground as long as possible but knew I'd have to go cross country to pick up the Afon Llafar and challenge the inevitable bog. Which despite the recent rain was quite cross-able by stepping from tussock to tussock! To avoid the farms and dogs I even took on more open bog to pick up the far corner of the forest and make a different return. I was even rewarded by a meeting with a strangely solitary mountain pony who sniffed the air, snorted then carried on eating!
Wild mountain pony...hardy as the hills...look at that mane!

As a measure of my feeling of well being and openhearted- ness gained from such an enriching day...I found myself acting totally out of character and stopping to pick up a hitch-hiker! The gentleman in question carried a very large rucksack...which turned out to be a packed para glider...I hope. Anyway on the drive to Capel Curig I found out that Ian is a senior member of the North Wales Hang gliding and Paragliding club. He'd spent the afternoon chasing thermals above the very mountains I'd walked on. On further conversation, with things aviation, it turns out that his son is member of flight crew for the same company which I work for...small world!

Yorkshire Coast...for a change

The original plan was a trip to North Wales, a place I know and like so much. However a late change in the weather forecast made me uneasy. Now I'm not scared of rain but I do prefer sunshine. So after a little thought and a glance at a map, the decision was made. A trip into the unknown, an adventure in Yorkshire!
Robin Hoods Bay with crumbling cliffs and the tide dropping over the rock shelves.

So after an early start and a surprisingly easy drive, we found ourselves parking just above Boggle Hole, a small wooded inlet, towards the Northern end of Robin Hoods Bay. Blue sky, fresh, slightly cool Easterly breeze and warmth from a hazy sun. Perfect!
Typical scene in the village where it's easy to see why smugglers easily lost customs men through the network of alleys and steps.

The dropping tide invited us for a long walk South following along the crumbling cliffs which hold fossilised secrets ready to be discovered. Sand Martins fluttered almost like bats around their cliff top nest holes and a few Fulmars cackled noisily from impossible ledges. In the distance towards the sea several figures could be seen bending down sifting through the exposed seaweed...Winkle pickers!
The Bay Hotel where fishermen wait for the tide to float their boats to an easy catch..

We left the car parked at Boggle Hole and now walked the short distance along the beach North to Robin Hoods Bay village. Now there were lots more people and the feeling of the seaside holidays with kids in rock pools, dogs barking and winter white flesh bared to the first sun worth worshipping.
The village from a distance looks unimpressive. Up close, it's an amazing little place with crazy quaint houses almost tripping over each other and falling into the sea! Really has to be visited to be appreciated and the fish and chips are enormous and gorgeous.
Despite the tacky image, this place sold the best ice cream of the day...and we tried some!

Just up the road or round the headland is Whitby. Once famous for its fishing fleet and the ruined Abbey of St Hilda, now a bit more kiss me quick mixed with Bram Stokers Dracula, vampires and Goths! We stumbled in on one of the two weekends annually that Whitby plays host to a gathering of Goths. They really made the day with some fantastic costumes parading in whole families of generations dressed to the nines in corsets, cloaks and canes. As if ordered from below, the sun vanished and a swift thunderstorm swept across and out to sea leaving a close muggy misty evening.
Whitby's somewhat strange harbour entrance points directly North...following the brief storm.

So a chance to leave the dockside pub where it would be all to easy to stay and climb the well worn steps up to the abbey for some last photos taken in hope more than certainty and with a pleasant result. Which summed up a perfect day out really. Yorkshire is really quite nice..
St Hilda's Abbey makes a spectacular backdrop to Whitby's cramped streets and busy harbour.