Day Seven - Danywenallt YHA to Storey Arms, 12.4 miles.

Total ascent 1071m (3514ft).

The big one! A long lakeside and woodland walk, followed by all the high peaks of the Brecon Beacons. So I needed one thing more than any other for breakfast (apart from coffee, but I knew there would be coffee), and that was porridge. Sure enough the YHA delivered the goods.

I came into this walk hoping to shed a few pounds but at the same time pretty fit. The latter is down to having done lots of training this year, including a long run every week and the Chester Half-Marathon (I tend to think of running as training for walking). The former is down to eating and drinking too much. So at the start of each day I've been really good, ignoring full, cooked breakfasts completely. I've also had packed lunches almost every day. The difficulty is towards the end of the day. "Does the body rule the mind or does the mind rule the body, I don't know". Well it's doubtful Morrissey was singing about exercise but it's a good question. So replace body with tummy (I can sense a cover version coming on) and I would definitely say that as the day reaches its end the tummy takes over. How could I possibly think, "Hmm, I'd better pass on the sponge cake", or say, "I'll have a slimline tonic please barman, rather than three pints of your finest ale". It just doesn't happen, though as a noble token gesture I haven't had chips yet.

So the porridge was delicious, and I was able to eavesdrop two separate family conversations (you do hear some great things when you're on your own, which is probably why the likes of Bill Bryson did so much solo travelling. Though he did have his mate with him for 'A Walk in the Woods', probably the funniest travel book ever). The father in the family of four behind me at one point said, "Well that's it then, the end of the holiday. Now I can go back to work and have a rest before the next one." To be fair it seemed that he had been ill and the youngest child was currently ill and crying incessantly. But my favourite conversation of the holiday, or possibly any holiday (though I appreciate that the context was a bit sad) came earlier between another family of four, possibly from the wedding as they looked shattered. It went something like this:

Mum to Dad: How are you feeling about Dai?
Dad: I'm still totally shocked to be honest.
Girl (of about 5): Is he the poorly one?
Mum: Yes he is.
Girl: What did you say his name was?
Mum: Dai.
Girl: That's a funny name.
Mum: It's a Welsh name. Dad knew him when he lived here.
Girl (after a long think): Is he going to die?
Mum: No he isn't going to die.
Girl (after a very long think): Because if he did, it would mean that Dai had died.

If you've seen 'Outnumbered' you'll be able to imagine how gruelling it was, and how inevitable the final line was!

The cloud was down as I set off but I was confident it would lift. More significantly the temperature was noticeably cooler (but still warm) at 17 degrees. My initial path seemed to be along an old railway line, which rose very, very gradually and curved very, very gradually to the right over the course of about 5 miles, ending in the heart of the Beacons. I had hoped for good views of the lakes and mountains to my right but there were trees on both sides for its entire length, so it was time to stride out.
If Jennie had been walking this stretch she would have used the lack of distraction to align her chakras and go into a zen-like karmic trance, at one with her surroundings. I started by calculating the average gradient of the slope, which was quite straightforward. As I had estimated it was about 5 miles or 8 km long, and I knew that the height gain over the distance was 200m, then the average gradient must be 1 in 40. I then noticed that the path was about 3m wide. Bearing in mind that the curve the path made on the map was about a third of a circle, or 120 degrees, I decided that you could probably calculate how much further I would walk if I walked on the left hand side of the path (the outside of the curve), as opposed to the right. I could not calculate this without more maths knowledge than I have. I then wondered whether I could outrun an average fly, and if not what speed the headwind would need to be in order for me to be able to do so. I do not know how fast flies can fly so I could not calculate this either. Then the path ended.

I was in the thick if things and immediately faced with a pull up to the summit of Craig y Fan Ddu. The rucksack felt almost non-existent now and in no time I was at the top, and at the highest point of my walk so far. I then headed north across high level bogginess towards the northern escarpment. This is the sheer, imposing face you see from Brecon, and it is magnificent. The weather was absolutely perfect, high level cloud with plenty of sunny breaks and improving all the time, and I knew I was in for a classic few hours walking over four peaks.

It went as follows:
Up a bit to easily reach the summit of Fan y Big.
Down quite a lot to a bwlch and up quite a bit further to the summit of Cribyn.
Down quite a lot to a bwlch and up quite a bit further to the highest peak, Pen y Fan (886m, 2907ft).
Down a bit and up a bit less to the summit of Corn Du.

My issue was with Cribyn. The guide book recommended leaving it out because it would make the day too long. How could it be left out? It was just begging to be climbed, I couldn't just walk round it. So I didn't, and the summit provided a great spot for lunch and the best views of Pen y Fan. I also saw a red kite circling around, the second I had seen (the first was yesterda), but much closer this time. Fantastic birds.

Pen y Fan (left) and Cribyn (the pointy one). How could you miss this peak out? You just wouldn't, would you? Ok I'll answer that for you, no you wouldn't.

Pen y Fan from Cribyn.

I reached the summit of Pen y Fan and a couple kindly took a photo of me. I was pleased to finally be on top of the highest mountain in Southern Britain (Ben Nevis next, the other mountain I should have been up by now but haven't).

Me.

And 30 minutes later my walk was over and I was waiting to catch a bus into Brecon. I was stunned by how quick and easy the descent was, and I hadn't really noticed it on the map. I would say it's considerably easier to walk up Pen y Fan than Snowdon, which is saying something when you can ascend Snowdonia next to a railway track! It's about 1 and a half miles up a gradual track. Mind you some of the people I passed (and there were plenty) looked like they'd rather be anywhere else. Which begged the question why weren't they somewhere else when Pen y Fan was making them so sad?! Maybe people feel obliged to do it as part of a Brecon Beacons holiday. I was relieved when I finally came across a large group of Japanese tourists messing about by a stream near the bottom and having a great time. They obviously had no intention of getting to the top.

On the way down Pen y Fan I had really enjoyed the high level walk, and was looking forward to a day off, but in true Roy Keane style I was also looking across the A470 at the next challenge. The wilder, more remote mountains of the western Beacons.

The wait for the bus was an hour, so I bought a drink from a nearby burger van. The lady running it said that she'd find a customer to give me a lift down to Brecon, and within 5 minutes she had! A couple from Llanelli kindly dropped me in a car park in the town centre, I walked round the first bend and a voice said, "Hi Kev." It was Jen, with Liz. A lucky meeting meant that we could check in to the George Hotel and relax. It was great to see them both and come back to normality for a little while. Tomorrow is a day off so there won't be a post, and I'll resume on Wednesday, though I'm expecting my phone signal to disappear as I head further west.


-- Posted from Kev's iPhone