Spending a week in the Scottish Highlands recently has been both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand I have amazing memories of some jaw-dropping vistas that I can re-visit in my mind whenever I wish. That’s the beauty of travel. On the other hand, I’ve had a proper taste of incredible mountain scenery right here in The UK and now I keep craving another eyeful. With this in mind and with my girlfriend Louise working all weekend, my Sandero and I headed to Snowdonia. Why not?
It has been a good few months since I last in the area and figured that this was as good a place as any to visit. The Peak District is slightly closer to me, but the scenery there doesn’t come close to North Wales in my humble opinion. The highest point in The Peaks is still a good 100 metres lower than the highest in The Welsh Cambrian Mountains. Most people haven’t even heard of this area of Wales and it isn’t a National Park either. Go figure! Anyway I am digressing and should get back to the subject at hand.
I was to be heading to a well-known spot in the south of the National Park. It is a long way from Snowdon, but still offers mountains, which are close to 900 metres in height. I consider that pretty damn impressive and enough of a reason to check it out. A certain lake had come to my attention too in several of the many camping videos I enjoy watching on You Tube. It just looked stunning and seemed very popular by all who visited.
The Journey To The Lake
By 3.00 pm on a Saturday afternoon, I was parked up at a local campsite and heading off with my backpack. Navigation was pretty easy with the OS Map App I now use on my phone. I have a certain Vanessa from The Kinder Scout trip to thank for that one!
The route started very gently as the path followed a gushing stream, but an army of steps soon revealed themselves around the first bend. I knew they were to lead to an incredible spot, but soon figured they were no stairway to heaven. They were really hard work and I started to struggle- a lot. I was wearing too many layers and the weight on my bag wasn’t helping me combat gravity. A waterfall part way up made a welcomed stop as I removed my coat and had a drink.
Watered and slightly rested, I pushed on and upped the pace as I reasoned it would end the discomfort quicker. I was also aware that I didn’t know exactly how long the journey would take. An arrival in darkness didn’t appeal.
I had read this spot was popular and the steady stream of walkers heading down confirmed this. It is great how friendly many outdoor folk are and several asked whether I was camping. I guess the 80 litre pack gave it away! One friendly chap told me he had camped there before and offered me some tips about the ideal spot. Thanks to that guy if he is reading this.
Soon enough the steps abated and the gradient lessened, much to my relief. The landscape started to open up as well and I could make out my final destination in the distance. I was tired, but this sight spurred me on over the last few drags to my resting place for the night.
The Lake Is Reached
I arrived with a smile on my face much like Leonardo Di Caprio at ‘ The Beach.’ I’ll let you be the judge as you look at the photo below, but I was completely blown away by it. With my pack dropped, I simply stood with my hands on my hips, while my eyes took in the mountainous landscape. What a location!
I had finally made it to Llyn Cau. This crystal clear lake sits at around five hundred metres about sea level and is almost enveloped in mountains. Cadair Idris offers to perfect backdrop as it beautifully shows off its 893 metres of elevation.
I didn’t want to drag myself away from the view, but soon started to get a little chilly. Setting up camp seemed the best remedy. Luckily, I found the spot the chap had told me about and it was the flattest and least boggy patch around. Perfect. I set a record in pitching the tent as all poles were inserted in the right places this time and I only swore once. That’s a marked improvement I promise!
As I finished pegging in the ropes, I noted I was alone. This did surprise me as it was a Saturday night and I was in a popular wild camping spot- even in March. The sun was started to set and I was rather excited at the prospect of having this whole place to myself. Of course I shouldn’t have thought this a couple appeared over the hill and made camp a little way around the lake from me. I headed over for a chat and soon learned that this was to be their first wild camping experience. What a great choice of location.
Night Skies Don’t Get Much Better
I soon left them to allow them to get their tent up before darkness engulfed us. With most of my faffy jobs done, I sat on a nearby rock with a beer and watched the crescent moon appear as the sun started to retreat. It was amazing watching the rocks change colour and stars appear almost one by one in the sky. Thankfully, around four layers kept me pretty toasty as did my hat, thermal gloves and socks. Happy days!
The location really took on a different ambience once it was dark. The stars looked like they were hanging in the black sky and it was stunning. I do wonder whether the locals take this sight for granted as they’re used to it. I never get to experience it as I live close to London and I did find it rather awe-inspiring.
I spent the remainder of the evening admiring the night sky with another couple of beers for company. Time didn’t seem to matter any more and I felt utterly content and relaxed. This is so important in today’s fast-paced world and it’s one of the reasons I love getting out into nature.
By just gone ten, the cold had started to get to me and I sought out the warmth of my sleeping bag. I had brought my heavier Berghaus Adventurer 300 sleeping bag and cursed its heavier weight on the climb to the lake. I was to be thankful for it though overnight as it kept the shivers at bay. Annoyingly, the wind picked up overnight and the sudden gusts kept waking me just as I would be drifting off to sleep.
The Morning After
Sleep deprived, I unzipped my tent at just gone six. The sky was still completely clear and the view around me made me forget how little sleep I’d had. It was beautiful. The sun had started to show its strength from the mountains from behind me and cast a golden glow on Cadair Idris. The wind had typically also completely vanished, but left the lake looking like a mill pond. Not the slightest ripple could be seen. I made my breakfast on my trusty Jet Boil and hiked around the lake to admire my camp spot from a different vantage point. Sitting there eating my porridge and sipping my piping coffee was a rather pleasant experience.
By just gone eight, I was packed away just as the first hikers started to appear. I enjoyed the walk back, especially with it all being downhill and just absorbed the scenery. The final photo below hopefully captures how stunning the landscape is in these parts and also how high I had to climb the day before. That small black dot you can see down on the valley floor is in fact my car!
