The day, Thursday, started hopefully for me but then quickly deteriorated. Bigger mountains make their own weather, and, as soon as I climbed up onto the ridge from the valley, everything went gray. Fellow walkers at fifty paces were vague dark figures. It was cold and clammy for six hours, but it was still fun and a thrill. Snowdon!
Vicki stayed back at the carpark, slaving over a hot laptop. After I got back down, we camped at a lay-by down the road from Llanberis, overlooking a lake and the huge strip-mined former-mountain of slate beyond it. Wales, for many years, roofed the world.
The Victorian cog railway still plies the route; here it is in the valley, the weather, hopeful... |
A couple hours later, near the summit, in the clouds; BTW, I, obviously, eschewed the train; that is to say, I eschewed-schewed. |
Just below Snowdon summit |
Snowdon summit compass |
The Irish Sea, and beyond, the Wicklow Mountains, and far to the right, the Isle of Man... |
Summit self-Portrait |
Staircase into the Abyss...one of the alternative trails |
Clogwyn dur Arduu...as I would like to have seen it |
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