I was recently approached by Alexandra who is the
Community Manager for Man Crates. This
company is based in America and it provides gifts for men in crates that need
to be opened with a crowbar! One of the
products that Man Crates offers is an Outdoor Survival Crate, and the company was interested in receiving articles from outdoor enthusiasts based on one
formative experience from their early years.
I submitted the following article.
Beginnings
The first time I visited any form of hill that could be
described as being a ‘mountain’ was with friends when we ascended Yr Wyddfa,
otherwise known as Snowdon, which is the highest mountain in the country where
I live; Wales. I’d been to its summit once
before with my parents and brother when we caught the train on the rack and
pinion railway that ascends to a few feet of its summit. But this was going to be a new experience for
me, as it meant hours of walking uphill into an increasingly cold environment,
and to do so rather unprepared as neither did we have adequate protective
clothing or proper walking boots. I
remember reaching the summit and feeling partly elated, but also very tired as
the cloud descended and greying wind blew in.
There was no eureka moment for me after this visit, I was
glad that I had managed to walk up Wales’ highest mountain but the thought of
repeating such a thing, and to do so for the act of enjoyment seemed foolhardy.
Yr Wyddfa in winter refinement |
It would be another three years before a friend suggested we
visit another mountain, this time it was in the company of a number of girls,
this seemed to encourage me as I forgot how painfully tiring my ascent of Yr
Wyddfa had been. This visit was to
Cadair Idris which is one of the highest mountains in the southern part of
Eryri (Snowdonia). This ascent was going
to be very different as we had come prepared with a tent and a large quantity
of beer, which seemed only fitting for the endeavour we wanted to experience.
Thankfully the weather for this hill walk proved blissful
and by the time we had positioned our ‘party tent’ next to Llyn Cau; a mountain
lake nestled below Mynydd Pencoed and a cirque of cliffs, the sun had shone all
day and there was a vividness to the colour with deep blues above being merged
with the hill colours of greys, browns and greens. As the last of the beer was drunk the six of
us tried to settle down for the night.
The morning proved as beautiful as the preceding evening with warm
sunshine meeting us as we scrambled up the steep stone shoot to the summit of
Cadair Idris.
Mynydd Pencoed reflected in Llyn Cau |
Two years later and I repeated this ascent with another
friend, both of these visits to Cadair were done with very little equipment
that could be considered as appropriate, as I wore Doc Mart shoes and a thin
t-shirt and didn’t even take any water or food with me on the second visit, let
alone a rucksack to carry any spare clothing in. However, something had happened on these two
visits to Cadair Idris, something that at that time was hard to quantify. But now I can look back and understand the
processes at work. I had encountered
something very different to the life and times I was used to, these were mainly
urban and centred around good music, lots of nights out, lots of drinking with
a fair mixture of other narcotic experiences mixed in with a good recipe of
being politically aware and slightly rebellious – good times indeed! But the experience of the beauty of visiting
Cadair Idris and its glacier carved high cwm with its torn cliffs, mountain
lakes and summit views made a lasting impression, and one that has not receded
over time.
At that stage my joy for the mountains had only just been
touched, as it would be another three years before I bought a good pair of
walking boots and invested in water proofs, maps and rucksack. This was prompted by a love of travel and as
I set about planning a six year adventure around the world, I suddenly realised
that to embark on such a trip, it was probably wise to get fit, and as two good
friends were occasionally going out walking on the hills I decided to join
them. I went to buy my first pair of
walking boots on the same day that another friend did likewise, miraculously we
both bought Zamberlan boots from the same shop, on the same day, without the
knowledge that the other person was going to do so.
Very soon the four of us were visiting all kinds of hills
and in all kinds of weather. Rain or
shine I wanted to get out, visit new places and experience new ground. I enjoyed this so much that my six year trip
around the world was put on hold as I realised that the enjoyment I was
experiencing on my native hills would be hard to replace.
Since this time the hills have given me so many special
times and so many vivid experiences, days when the colour almost screams out to
be touched, and those quieter moments when one looks down on the intricacies of
life at ones feet, with detail of colour and movement in small pools, or blades
of grass being delicately blown, or when the beauty of an ice crystal reflects
a myriad of colour. All of these have
been savoured and more. Wales is blessed
with some of the finest scenery in the whole of Britain; it has an abundance of
variety to its uplands from the rock carved giants of its north, to the
openness and wilderness of its central heartlands to the old red sandstone
hills of its south. I have walked all,
but still only know a fraction of what the country has to offer.
Sunrise over my local hills - the Breiddin |
The enjoyment and sometimes emotional need to visit the
mountain environment does not stop at the border between Wales and England,
there is no division as far as mountains are concerned, with one of the
beauties being visiting hills in different countries, and although I cannot
match some of the multi hill bagging exploits that many people are now
experiencing, I have gained a broader mind by trekking in Nepal, Morocco, Cuba,
Egypt, Vietnam, Peru, Bolivia and continental Europe, but it is the beauty of
my own country; Wales, that draws me back time and time again. It is this beauty that will remain in me when
my time on this planet is up, this beauty will enhance my dying day in a
realisation that I have found something that I will be forever thankful for,
and that is the beauty of the hills.
Myrddyn Phillips
Rock on!! Great story, well written and much enjoyed in the reading. Wholly endorsed sentiments and the same feelings I have for Scotland, the land of my youth.
ReplyDeleteThanks Charles, I enjoyed writing this article as it brought back many fond memories from many a year ago.
ReplyDeleteWonderful Myrddyn - my feelings for the hills beautifully expressed AND I agree that Wales is one of the most beautiful places on Earth.
ReplyDeleteThanks Carole, will have to get your Guest Contributor article up on the blog soon.
ReplyDelete