1st May 2010 Climb Every Mountain [Sound of Music]
Relatively
easily I walked up the Snowdon Ranger path to the summit, a path stated to be
the easiest route to the top. Maybe that was why I was on it! Grasshopper
Warblers trilled on the way up and I enjoyed the pleasant company of a
gentleman named Norman from Chester. The birds and the chat made the walk go
quickly and the summit was soon reached. For the last section of the walk, the
path went close to the famous Snowdon Mountain railway and the train passed as
we walked up. An easier way to get to see the fabulous views Snowdon's height
has to offer but obviously one I could not take, the train being carbon
transport. One effect of this old train caused me to have rather a surprise on
reaching the area around the top. Hundreds of people were milling around the
new cafeteria and the summit had a queue of people waiting their turn to be
photographed around the round height marker. Some braver souls preferred their
selfies whilst standing on top of it.
The
last time I had been at the summit of a mountain was in the French Pyrenees the
previous year, atop the Petit Vignamale, a much higher mountain at 3,023
meters. Then there were only three of us at the top; me and a French couple
from Toulouse. I had got up at 4:00 a.m. I had leapt from my comfy bunk bed in
the refuge Bayssellance, the highest and oldest of the mountain refuges in the
Pyrenees, had got quickly dressed and headed for the door. Greeted outside to a
spectacular star-filled, very black-grey sky, I walked and scramble climbed to
the top in order to see the sunrise. At this height, the clarity of the air and
the total lack of cloud cover made it an exhilarating start to an incredibly
special day. Well, I did manage to get to the top to see the sunrise and then I
promptly fell asleep whilst resting against a rock next to a steep chasm. On
being awoken by the French couple that arrived sometime later, a conversation
with 'ma pauvre Francais' and their better English ensued, only to be
interrupted by two Wallcreepers flying over our heads! Fabulous small birds
with grey bodies and brilliant red, black and white flashing wings. Many a
birder's ambition bird and one I have yet to see in Britain, having missed the
one that overwintered in Cheddar Gorge back in 1976/7, which miraculously
enough returned in 1977/8. Also that day there were Griffon Vultures and Alpine
Accentors. The former looked at me suspiciously as they circled around while
the latter sat by my feet at the hostel steps. As for Wallcreepers, my first
were at the famous Reichenbach Waterfall at Meringen, Switzerland. The
viewpoint from which I saw my first two Wallcreepers dancing around in a
display flight in the ninety meter waterfall's spray. The path here had a
memorial plate stating that this was the spot where Sherlock Holmes and his
arch enemy, Moriarty, had fallen to their deaths. Being a fictional tale I was
not going to join them.
I
digress. I often do.
Back to the early morning atop Snowdon, it was worth the wait in the queue for top position because after the obligatory 'I'm on the summit' photographs of both me and Barnaby Bear, a female Snow Bunting dodged the legs of the people standing around and was less than a meter away from me at one point. I found I could sit on a rock and have the bird come close, totally unfazed and ready to search for any food item. A really smashing looking bird with yellow beak, white flashes in the wings, white underparts and subtle combination of browns around the upper breast and upperparts. It was really beautiful to see one so close.
What was there on Snowdon, avian-wise, as well as the Snow Bunting? Herring
Gulls, lots of them and all too willing to share my 'Oggie', a large Welsh
version of the Cornish Pasty. The gulls did not have too much. I was hungry and
the new café was full. £4.50 for an Oggie and a coffee, lunch was eaten as I
sat on a rock admiring the views to the coast and beyond.
Later I walked towards Crib Goch, a beautiful mountain ridge to the north, with
cloud that sometimes obscured the surrounding hills and ridges. At other times,
the cloud dissipated to allow views of the Isle of Man and the Lake District. I
sat on the highest peak, the other one in the area over 3,000ft named and waited for the Aston Villa result against Man'
City on my mobile. The vantage point was
chosen because it was the first place at the top that I received a phone
signal. I was to be disappointed with the football result. These are not the
best days for Aston Villa but I could never be disappointed with the views that
I enjoyed whilst sitting there. Incredible views down to Glaslyn, a cold lake
far below; views along the ridge and views of the horseshoe to the south.
Eventually it was time to go back down to the Youth Hostel. Unfortunately, this was in pouring rain. Yet I could not complain. I had been in Wales for a few weeks and this was only the second time I was to get wet! Now if that was not evidence of Climate Change, what is?
Tickle My
Feathers
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