By: Blonde Two
DAY 3
Thanks to my innovative sleeping arrangements (which I will tell you about another day) I slept well on both of my bothy nights. Night 2 however was by far the best and when I woke up, there was actual sunshine coming in through the cobwebs (Running Girl later turned the cobwebs into a window!)
My first thought was, “Emily won’t be there now, I can go out for a wee!” This mission completed, I had to turn my head to our route back to the car. If you remember, Running Girl and I had walked a shorter route than planned on Day 1; this meant that we were facing a 24K yomp down the Claerwyn Reservoir and across to Penygarreg, if we were going to finish our loop.
I have never yomped, but it sounds like a most unacceptable occupation so I ruled it out as a possibility. The other options that presented to us were:
a) Go back across the Monks Trod for some distance and try to cut down off the hill further south. (NO! Some beautiful, boggy landscapes are not friendly, and should really be left to be beautiful and boggy on their own!)
b) Get hold of Mr B2 (who had by now finished his 132 mile cycle) and ask him to meet us at the Claerwyn Dam. (A comforting plan but despite all Running Girl’s hill climbing efforts, we could not get a mobile signal. As it turned out Mr B2 did spend most of the day in exactly that spot … but we didn’t coincide!)
c) Just start walking and hope that it would all work out. (More a non-plan than a Blonde-plan, but it worked in my head!)
The weather for the march down the reservoir was superb. Such an open expanse of water has the potential for being very windy, but we had a breeze and sunshine all of the way. It wasn’t warm, as these icicles show, but it was very, very pleasant.
My legs, however, weren’t as pleasant. I had to avoid stopping as much as possible because each time I tried to get started again, it took a bit longer to warm up. I felt like some mammoth steam engine taking its time to creak into life. I had a giant blister on my right foot which meant that I had to fasten my boot up so tight, that I kept losing feeling in my toes and my knees were offering protest at the previous day’s bog-hopping.
Despite wondering how on earth I was going to complete the walk, it really was a lovely experience walking down the reservoir. There was that wonderful combination of a stunning view, a solid track and no other people. We got down to the dam in good time … well, it would have been good time if we hadn’t still had another 10K to go!
We did get back to the car eventually; but I will tell you exactly how tomorrow!
It’s ages since I had blisters, but I buy the proper Elastoplast fabric that you can get in long lengths and stick this over as a large patch. Also, to stop it coming off you can buy a small cylindrical roll of surgical tape that sticks a lot better and I use that to stick the edges down. Then I just leave it all for several days to “mature”.
You said before you had learnt a lot. I bet the biggest thought dwells on how to reduce weight? That generally comes down to spending lots of money for small reductions in weight, which cumulatively become significant.
First burst and drain said blister, then apply the thickest fabric plaster you can find, then put another on top and leave it alone for a week or until the smell of cheese gets too ripe. Though if the boots are big enough you can get two really thick pairs of socks in ’em and prevent blisters in the first place. Modern socks are ridiculously thin!
I’ve just spent three days backpacking around a very similar route, and will certainly be back. It’s fantastic open countryside, miles and miles with not a fence, gate or wall in sight. But boggy…really boggy in places. The mid section on the Monks Trod is so churned up you need waders, but it doesn’t detract from the walk over the tops from Claerwen to Pont Ar Elan, which is superb. I took in Drygan Fawr on my way around and walked along the tops to the West before dropping down to Claerwen Reservoir. It’s rough as old boots up there, miles of featureless grass tussocks. Above the reservoirs I didn’t meet a single person in three days.