Last time I hiked up Snowdon (I say hiked, we took the Miner’s Track, which is fairly easy-going for the most part) the mountain decided to mess with me. It was a lovely sunny day when we set off, and yet in the space of three hours it rained, hailed, and eventually snowed on me. We had to give up and turn back on that occasion as we were utterly drenched and extremely cold. The most recent attempt was no different. I had thought we would be ok – the weather was a bit ‘off’ but not terrible, and we left super early to make the most of a clear morning and the sunshine.
That didn’t last. I think we probably saw some of Snowdon’s worst weather and conditions on this day in September. Admittedly, we later realised it had been torrential rain throughout the country at the same time, but it didn’t make the defeat any easier to accept. We set off and I managed to get some nice images without tripod and even with intermittent rain (turns out drops landing on your lens every few yards begins to irritate after a while). The weather brought some dramatic skies and crisp, clear greens on the mountains and bright rock formations. I wasn’t too bothered by a bit of rain.
The mountain had other plans. As we made our way to around halfway up Snowdon, while I stopped to capture images in more interesting spots and in between downpours, the weather turned. I could almost hear the mountain laughing at us. Oh, you’ve come back to try again? Hahaha. Think again.
It rained. And rained. And rained. I think I even saw what looked like hail, but may have imagined it. The rain got heavier and heavier until I had packed everything tightly away, frantically pulled on some waterproof trousers and leaned into the kinds of gale force winds and heavy rain I have quite literally never witnessed before. It poured down my face and body, and that delightful squelching sensation began to emanate from my walking boots and from my clothing, although my jacket did a great job of keeping my core dry.
(As an aside, those same walking boots now sit forlornly in the conservatory still covered in mud and are destined for a bin.)
At one stage, my son, who was the most drenched person I’ve ever seen other than myself at that point, turned from his determined walk up the mountain, looked at me and made a cutting motion. Time out. Screw this. We are going back down. I was surprised as I’d been trailing him for some time – he is a determined walker. Nope, he wanted out of the madness. We raged at the mountain and the weather as we slipped and slid back down the path, which had by now turned into a healthily flowing river.
Some way down, I noticed a large boulder tumbling down the mountainside, while the rain lashed and raged around us. I looked at my son. He looked at me. He swore and shouted at me to run. I was genuinely in the middle of taking a photograph in the torrential rain (nothing stops me when I see an image I want), so I just froze. As we turned towards the path, in the direction we needed to go, a landslide took out the entire path in front of us. The lake below us filled with multicoloured sediments which spread across the surface in fascinating patterns while the body of water which had been a stream an hour earlier had become a raging river which flowed over the path and down into the water below.
We panicked. We charged up the mountain onto the grass to avoid falling mud, and at the same time tried to move forwards. As we moved, another landslide occurred directly in front of us and my son ran towards me while I filmed it. (I know I probably should take these things more seriously and put the camera away!) We managed to scrabble over the second rapidly rising landslide which covered the path but I lost my phone in the process. Despite the fact we literally ran some way from the landslide before I’d realised I had lost it, we turned back to try to find the phone and had to re-negotiate the landslides. Further landslides had occurred on the path heading back towards the Miner’s track car park. We both shouted at the mountain, especially as it seemed that as we got closer to the car park, the weather calmed and the sun even dared to show its face.
I have to admit to feeling slightly aggrieved. This mountain does not like me. I will be back to tackle her once again, very soon. On some of these images, you might actually be able to tell that it was raining. You’d never know the full story…