A Crazy Week in South Wales
Rowland had decided to try and finish off his Welsh Marilyns on this trip to South Wales,
so it was appropriate that our first hill should be a simple half hour peak bag. There are
parking spots and picnic tables scattered along the road and it was a short stroll westwards
along good forest tracks to the trig point, hidden amongst trees but crowned, by some joker,
with a colourful golf umbrella. The atmosphere here, like the name, was more English than
Welsh, being reminiscent of the Cotswolds and, even had it not been misty the views would
have been very restricted by trees.
When we reached the Sirhowy Valley visitor centre it was raining hard. However if one has
driven three hundred miles to climb a hill then one will not to be dissuaded by a bit of rain
so we went straight up through the forest and took the track to the masts and trig point.
Waymarks indicated the 'Ridgeway Walk' along this hill and we followed it back for a short
distance with the earthworks looming above us, looking extremely massive in the mist.
An unusual footbridge crosses the Sirhowy River right by the car park but a notice warned
that the barrier would be closed at the ridiculously early hour of 4.30pm so we had to drive
round to the other side. A delightful track runs up through the forest and then along a shelf
high above a deep valley. A lot of work had obviously been done on the path so it was a bit
surprising that it ended abruptly at a hostile barbed wire fence. It was clear that we were
not the first to crawl beneath it. We climbed steeply up beside the forest and then proceeded
on a bearing towards the summit, a tuft with a marker stone, one of several on this plateau.
A glimpse of the forest corner soon confirmed that we had passed the top and we turned
abruptly and headed back northwards, aided by a grassy track. It swung away west so we
never saw the masts but as soon as we hit the track we followed it down to the road and so
back to Wattsville in the dark.
We parked discreetly in the corner of the large carpark of the Heritage Park Hotel and went
straight up through the old opencast mine workings, not marked as a right of way but clearly
frequented by local dog walkers and motor cyclists. Near the forest corner a stile took us
into open pasture and since a farmer was there feeding his sheep we approached cautiously,
swung too far left and arrived at the trig point instead of the higher bump to the north.
Again a bit of discreet skirting was called for to avoid confrontation with flock or farmer. It
was hard to believe that this undistinguished bit of grass was really six metres higher than
the trig point.
Garth Hill is justifiably popular, with a picnic site and car parking on the narrow road to the
south. We actually saw good parking lower down and walked up on a pleasant path through
the forest. The track marked on the map as Ffordd y Bryniau curves up round the dramatic
eastern end of the hill, passing an airy viewpoint across Cardiff before leading onto the flat
and grassy ridge crowned by a trig point atop a substantial tumulus. We followed a track
more directly down to the road to complete a pleasant short circuit
Craig yr Allt is another small and pleasant hill. We went up from the eastern end, finding
ourselves once again following a segment of the Rhymney Valley Ridgeway path. The ridge
becomes quite well defined, with even a little rock in evidence, and would have been most
rewarding as a traverse, rather than our simple return by the same route.
A narrow road runs close to the top of Cefn Eglwysilan and the feeling that we should make
a substantial circuit, returning on it in the dark, was tempered by worsening weather and
failure to find anywhere to park. In the end we squeezed the car on the bend, walked up to
the trig point and then, in thick mist, went over to the north top, which the map suggested
might be just as high. With rain starting we made our way down from the masts straight
back to the car.
Its spot height of exactly 600m means that Craig y Llyn belongs to an exclusive group of half
a dozen hills which could be called the furth sub-Grahams. In fact it is one of only two
Welsh hills between 600m and 2000 feet, the higher and more distinguished one being
Mynydd Troed. Perhaps I am wronging Craig y Llyn, which must have been quite a fine
hill before suffering human despoilation. Its slopes carry the only deep shaft pit still
functional in Wales and its summit is covered with ugly coniferous forest. It is named after
two corrie lakes, Llyn Fawr and Llyn Fach, the former being tamed and dammed but the
steep slopes above it being quite impressive. The other might still be attractive; we never
saw it, being tempted into a simple ascent from the big main road which winds up to within
a mile of the top. Heavy rain dissuaded us from anything more ambitious.
Hirfynydd is a vast whalebacked hill which has been much exploited by mining and
forestry interests. By far the most attractive and rewarding way to climb it would be by a
complete traverse along the old roman road, Sarn Helen, but this would require a backpack
or a cooperative chauffeur and a long summer day. We went up from Seven Sisters, taking
the direct route through the mine rather than trying to trace the right of way through the
forest. There was evidence that the mine was still operational, indeed being extended, but
being Sunday there was no activity nor hindrance to our ascent and dubious weather
discouraged us from seeking an alternative way down.
The day had turned bright and sunny by the time we embarked on Mynydd Marchywel.
The track coming up from the south barely existed and was blocked by barbed wire. It
seems likely that an approach from the west, although probably not exactly tracing the right
of way, would have been more pleasant since a good track came up from that side around the
edge of the forest. The map suggested that the closest approach to the trig point would be
from the forest corner and this we tried, encouraged by a narrow track which soon petered
out. Twenty minutes later we re-emerged scratched and downhearted, having been driven
back by an impenetrable barrier of trees. It was with a mixture of relief and chagrin that
further investigation revealed a track further east which led easily to the top and indeed
continued into the trees beyond.
Mynydd Dinas 258m & Foel Fynyddau 370m 8/1/96
There is no need for any tree bashing to reach the top of Mynydd Dinas. Our route from
Brynbryddan, however, was certainly not the best approach and involved some desperate
struggling through trees and brambles before we reached the good track which encircles the
hill, giving views onto the industrial coastline around Port Talbot which looked almost
attractively dismal today; a grey landscape beneath a grey sky. The lanes between this hill
and Foel Fynyddau were running with water. A good path leads up beside the forest.
Wind, rain and drifting black clouds were sweeping through the masts on the open summit.
We quickly encircled the trig point and hurried back down to join an unhappy herd of cattle
in the shelter of the trees.
After a wet and windy morning on Mynydd Dinas and Foel Fynyddau we drove up onto
the open hill south of Mynydd Uchaf and ate lunch, hoping that the torrential rain would
lessen as we did so. Instead it beat down harder than ever, driven by a gale force southerly
wind. Hence this hill became one of our craziest acquisitions with the ascent easier than the
return, head on into the storm. Bogtrotters were certainly the most appropriate footwear, for
the hillside was ankle deep in running water. A small hut and mast lie just west of the
highest point, which is merely an indeterminate tussock.
Mynydd y Betws is the Welsh rival to Bishop Wilton Wold for the title of easiest Marilyn.
A road runs within 50m of the highest tussock. Fortunately, despite the temptation with all
our clothes and waterproofs sodden, we did not drive quite to the top but walked up from
the road junction thereby incorporating a visit to the evocative mediaeval settlement
Penlle'r-castell on the north end of the hill. There is a big ditch and the remains of tiny
stone houses, not an inviting spot to live on a day like this one!
Trichrug gave us one of our most pleasing circuits in South Wales. We parked below the hill
forts of Carn Goch and set out in the opposite direction to join the extremely well
waymarked path into the forest. Fallen trees encouraged us to abandon it for a forest road,
not shown on the map, which led us to the perfect spot to commence the ascent of the grassy
west ridge. Both trig point and ancient cairn lie beyond barriers from this direction but it
seems unnecessary to surmount either to lay claim to the highest spot. The map marks no
right of way on the connecting path back to Carn Goch but it has been waymarked as a
permissive path and allowed us to complete a very satisfying circuit with a clear conscience
and a friendly greeting from the farmer in his tractor. The two hill forts, some of the largest
in Wales according to the plaque in the car park, were quite impressive, even in the sudden
rainstorm which struck us just before the completion of a basically dry, bright and very
enjoyable walk.
Mynydd Sylen did not provide a very satisfactory walk. We planned a short traverse and
circuit, mostly on the road, but by the time we found parking we were nearly at the top and
so already knew that the road part was uninspiring. Moreover it was raining, so we just
went up and back the same way. Although not an interesting hill it would have been an
appropriate one for Rowland's last, on account of its topical trig point number, 1996.
Mynydd Llangyndeyrn was another short hill since its slopes are very much inhabited and
the main road runs across open land less than a kilometre south of the summit. The ridge of
the hill is surprisingly rough , in contrast to all this civilisation around it. The eastern side
consists of sloping smooth slabs which would not look out of place on a much higher, wilder
mountain. The trig point forms a pair with its neighbour, carrying next year's number, 1997.
The OS map showed a picnic site some 3kms short of Brandy Hill summit and we intended
to cycle to the top from there. However there was no sign of any parking in this vicinity.
Moreover the stormy weather was not at all conducive to cycling. Hence we drove up to the
top and spent a very wet five minutes circumambulating the covered reservoir of Welsh
Water in a vain search for the trig point. We had decided that all twin hills should be
included in our Marilyn collection, since it seems that the choice of one rather than the other
must be quite arbitrary. So we carried on towards Middleton Hill. This summit gave a good
deal more trouble and a good deal more satisfaction, since it took us two attempts to reach
the trig point and then we only got there after some delicate manouevres over barbed wire
fences. The OS column crowns the top of what is probably a very ancient man made
earthwork, which perhaps justifies the selection of the far less attractive Brandy Hill as the
Marilyn.
We spent the night on the Gower peninsula and took a short morning walk around Worm's
Head before driving back to Allt-y-grug, which we had omitted on the way westwards
because of inclement weather. The rights of way onto the eastern end of the hill did not all
coincide with actual usuable routes but once we had negotiated this agricultural area we
emerged onto a very pleasant ridge with a narrow path through the heather. This skirted the
summit which was quite unmarked with no sign of the ancient cairn and on this, the only
completely dry day of our week's trip, made a pleasant spot for lunch, with pleasing views
of stormy clouds banking up over the distant Black Mountains. We went down southwards
and joined the old mine road, assuming that, like most Welsh pits, it would be closed.
Halfway down we discovered our mistake, on meeting a pair of jet black miners outside
what was obviously an active tunnel. Fortunately they gave us a friendly greeting, despite
our emergence past 'no admittance' signs.
We started up this hill at sunset, although it was too cloudy to actually see the sun, thus
making more of an event of the simple ascent from the picnic table on the western side. The
summit gave a beautiful view, with the lights of Newport below us and those of England far
away beyond the Severn estuary which was glowing in the fading evening light.
It was the sort of day when any sane person would abandon the idea of hill walking and
curl up by the fire with a good book. But we wanted to get home tonight and Rowland had
just two Welsh Marilyns to do, so sanity was abandoned and we set out in torrential rain.
The eastern slopes of Mynydd Carn-y-cefn are steep and slippery and threaded with
concreted water channels. After a couple of waymarks there was no sign at all of any path
on the line of the right of way but eventually we found a stile and a clear track running
northwards up onto the escarpment. The bridleway here does exist and it was a short
diversion up to the trig point. We rejoined the track which led us down through the golf
course, its easy going being augmented by a driving wind behind us. Once on the ridge of
Coity Mountain this wind was, of course, right in our faces and made the compass almost
unnecessary. A clear track ran along the ridge, forked a few times and ran out in bog on the
northern slopes of Cefn Coch. Nevertheless navigation was not too difficult and the two
bridleways on the flat col before the highest summit appeared on the ground and on cue.
From here we started counting paces up a steeper slope and then across more featureless bog
to a fairly convincing summit tuft, marked only by an old chocolate wrapper. The
traditional completion ceremony of kissing cairn and spouse had to be modified. With rain
running down our faces the phrase 'wet kiss' took on an entirely new meaning. Now
compass navigation and counting of paces began in earnest, to ensure that we avoided
descent into Cwm Tyleri. The right of way shown on the map did not correspond to a
reasonable route on the ground. The least said about this descent the better. It involved bog
and barbed wire, unfriendly notices, unfriendly conifers and, it must be admitted, some
unfriendly feelings amongst the participants. However eventually we emerged, relatively
unscathed, at Cwm-celyn pond and all was forgiven over a celebratory cup of coffee.
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