Category Archives: Wales

Carn Hyddgen

I’m sitting at home with at least six inches of snow outside, an almost-unheard of avalanche warning for Snowdonia, and a glass of wine. Unless you love wading through thigh deep powder, not a good day to be tackling the hills. Instead, I realised I’d yet to write up this walk from February : a good day in mid-Wales in the hills north of Pumlumon.

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If you’re walking from Maesnant into Cwm Rheidol, the twin bronze-age cairns on Carn Hyddgen stand proud on the skyline across the river, keeping a watching brief on proceedings. And there’s been plenty for them to watch over the years : Owain Glyndŵr’s famous victory over the English in 1401, The construction of the Nant-y-Moch reservoir, and the sea of encroaching windfarms. From a distance the cairns look reminiscent of Adam and Eve, the twin monoliths atop Tryfan – But that’s a trick of alignment and perspective : the cairns stand 6 metres tall, and 20m apart, so the ‘freedom’ of Carn Hyddgen can’t be easily gained.
Continue reading Carn Hyddgen

Icing on the Cake

Snowdonia : Elidir Fawr, Mynydd Perfedd and Carnedd y Filiast

13 March, 2013: A deserted cwm, grass as far as the eye can see. It climbs gently at first, then depressingly steeply to the bwlch at the head. A pair of Ravens cronk loudly, demanding an audience for their antics. It could be almost anywhere in Wales, or rather almost anywhere else: Welcome to Cwm Dudodyn, on the unfashionable western side of the Glyderau.

Cwm Dudodyn

Continue reading Icing on the Cake

Yr Aran and Snowdon

Cabin fever had set in over the last few weeks/months, and I was desperate to get out for a day, regardless of conditions. Apart from a few hours before Christmas walking in to Llyn Lygad Rheidol, below Pumlumon, It feels like I’ve not spent enough time out walking – let alone backpacking.

The met forecast was basically for hill fog and some drizzle everywhere – but had a few crumbs of comfort – “lifting in the afternoon” ‘higher summits may be clear”, interspersed with the usual may/might/could weasel words.

Continue reading Yr Aran and Snowdon

More Pumped Hydro Stations?

The phrase “power station” is bit of a misnomer for pumped hydro schemes, as they don’t so much generate power, as store it. The problem with electricity is that if you have too much, you can’t easily put it in a cupboard to retrieve it later. Instead, you have to store it in some other form. Pumped hydro does this by using electricity to increase the potential energy of a large mass of water – by pumping it uphill. To reclaim the energy, you let it flow back and spin up turbines, as in a conventional hydro system.

Naturally, this process is a bit wasteful – for every 4 units of electricity you use to push stuff uphill, you get about three back. But, there’s a big commercial advantage – while the domestic electricity prices are comparatively static, the prices for electricity within the industry follow the laws of supply and demand, typically changing every 30 minutes, and prices at times of peak demand or minimum supply can easily be three times higher than at times of low demand. So you ‘buy’ cheap electricity to pump water uphill, and then ‘sell’ expensive electricity when there’s a TV Pickup.

There are two pumped hydro facilities in North Wales – Dinorwig below Elidir Fawr, and the older and much smaller Ffestiniog. The UK’s other two facilities are in Scotland at Cruachan and Foyers. In particular, Dinorwig is a vital facility because not only can it handle surges caused by a near-infinite number of half-time kettles, it can also be used to ‘bootstrap’ the entire power grid during a Black Start.

Dinorwig was the last to be completed in 1984, and there hasn’t been much interest in additional schemes – until recently: The reason? Renewable energy, in particular wind and solar.

Outputs from both wind and solar power systems are largely unpredictable and highly susceptible to weather conditions. To provide backup power when the wind doesn’t blow requires either extra conventional power stations, or storage schemes. (I’m ignoring power imports here, as that’s really just moving the problem into some other country). Pumped storage is seen as a great solution because it doesn’t burn more fossil fuels, and you can store the excess power that your wind turbines would generate in the middle of the night – which would otherwise simply be lost. (There are other ways of handling this, by demand-side management, but that seems decades away from reality.)

However, there’s a catch. Pumped hydro schemes need very specific geographical conditions: Two bodies of water – an upper reservoir (Marchlyn Mawr, for Dinorwig) and a lower one (Llyn Padarn). The greater the vertical separation between the two, the more energy you can store. In some locations the sea can act as the lower reservoir., but typically the only suitable places you’ll find for these schemes is in mountainous territory. Also, they are huge, expensive and impressive engineering schemes- to build Dinorwig, 12 million tons of rock was excavated from Elidir Fawr.

There are two proposals for new Pumped Hydro schemes in Scotland – Coire Glas, above Loch Lochy , and Balmacaan, where there’s also a controversial wind farm proposal.

But, what about Wales?

When Dinorwig was being planned, two other sites were under consideration – Llyn Cwm-y-Foel below Cnicht in Cwm Croesor, and Llyn Newydd, east of Blaenau Ffestiniog. Llyn Cwm-y-Foel sits in a hanging valley, and already has a small conventional hydro generator. There’s no lower lake, so a new reservoir would need building below. There are suggestions that these sites could be reconsidered for new developments. I suspect that’s a long way off, but it’s another reminder that heavy reliance on wind and solar power can bring a whole new set of problems and challenges in its wake.

 

Glyder Fawr via Gribin Ridge

Snowdonia, 25 June 2012

It’s been too long since I’ve blogged – and also too long since I’ve been out in the hills. The weather seems to have been nothing but rain since a trip to the Carneddau in mid May, but today’s forecast was good enough to deserve a day trip to the heart of Snowdonia. And as I’ve just replaced my tired and leaking (but much loved) La Sportiva Trango Alps with a pair of Trango Evo’s, something rocky rather than peaty was required.

Tryfan and Llyns Bochlwyd. Llyn Ogwen and the Carneddau beyond

The Gribin Ridge seemed to fit the bill. An easy scrambling route onto the Glyderau plateau, and I could head over Glyder Fawr and then down into Cwm Idwal via the Devil’s Staircase.

It’s always surprising how quickly you leave the A5 (and the crowds) behind as you climb away from Llyn Ogwen. First stop was Llyn Bochlwyd, which is a great viewpoint for Tryfan and back across the valley to the Carneddau. I headed west, picking up the path that heads up towards the Gribin. there are a few rocky steps you can play on in the lower part of the route, but a path follows the line of least resistance and brings you out to the ‘football pitch’ where the rocky crest of Y Gribin  can be properly appreciated.

Y Gribin


The path keeps on, below and to the right of the crest, with great views down into deserted Cwm Cneifion and the winter climbing routes on Clogwyn Du. I should probably have left the path earlier than I did, as the cairn marking the descent route came into view quite quickly. The new boots were great -grippy, and confidence-inspiring when edging, and felt a lot more ‘tactile’ than the Trango Alps. Also, the shockingly bright blue finish is now toned down with a subtle layer of dust and dirt.

The path across the plateau to Glyder Fach is heavily cairned, but visibility was good enough today not to need them. A bit of high cloud was blocking the sun, making photography far from ideal, and there was a good cooling breeze. I’d been on Glyder Fawr twice before – but only in winter, with good snow cover and crampons. It’s actually a lot harder work when there’s no snow, and the screes down to Lyn y Cwn (which had been easy in winter) were something of a slithery nightmare.

Towards Llanberis from Glyder Fawr

The positive side is that it’s a lot easier to locate the Devil’s Kitchen path when there’s no snow. I’d spent 15 minutes trying to find it on a previous visit… The path down below Twll Du is steep and rocky, but very well maintained. I took the left fork to take me round the quieter western side of Llyn Idwal. Plenty of wild flowers out, including Butterwort and Mossy Saxifrage, and a couple that I haven’t identified yet.

Mossy Saxifrage
Cwm Idwal, with Cwn Cneifion and Y Gribin above
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The Frozen Sponge

Pumlumon : 2/2/2012

Despite living just on the ‘wrong’ (Shropshire) side of Offa’s Dyke,  Powys always feels rather like ‘home’. We regularly visit or shop in Newtown, Welshpool, Llani and Hay, and many of my favourite hills are in Powys: The Black Mountains, Mynydd Du, and of course, Pumlumon (although the border with Ceredigion runs along the plateau).

I chanced upon Mike Parker’s “Real Powys” recently, and it’s one of the most entertaining books I’ve read for a long time. It’s billed as a ‘psychogeography’  of Powys – but don’t let that put you off: It’s sharply written, very funny and stuffed full of odd details and great anecdotes while underneath it all runs a huge dose of affection for his home county. If you live in or near Powys – or even just fly in occasionally to T3 at Llandegley International Airport, it’s a great read.

However, I suspect Pumlumon isn’t one of his favourite mountains. He describes it as:

Pumlumon … that great upland sponge that squats like a fat toad at the centre of Wales. At least the grey miasma oozing out of the slopes had successfully blotted out most of the two hundred wind turbines that now encircle it

Unlike him, I seem to be always drawn back here. When I can’t make my mind up where to go, the answer is always this: Pumlumon. While the convenience is a factor, the remoteness is the magnet that brings me back time and again. As I’ve mentioned before, there’s plenty of signs of man’s presence here, but hardly anything that feels ‘contemporary’. Even the Outdoor Centre at Maesnant looks as though nobody has stayed there for years. With the remains of unused sheepfolds and age-old cairns, it can feel like a dead landscape, just waiting to be explored .

And on a day like Thursday, when it’s cold, white, and the wind has filled the paths and footsteps of everyone else with blown powder snow, it’s just a great place to be.

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