Forced to distill the peaks of North Wales to the best ten, which would you go for? We asked local expert Nick Livesey, and his selection surprised us. What, no Tryfan? Before you write in to complain, allow him to explain...
When I was tasked with writing this article on the 10 greatest hills in Eryri/Snowdonia I thought, "No problem, I'll knock that off in an hour". I have now been staring at a blank screen for two hours in a state of panic and confusion. It would be so much easier if I had been granted 20 but I was told "Nope, ten's your limit, Livesey".
Such lists are, of course, highly subjective and my particular taste in hills leans towards the more esoteric end of the scale, but how can you list a Snowdonian top ten without including Tryfan, Crib Goch or Cnicht? To do so would be a travesty. I would, however, argue that these three peaks -and many more besides- are so well known that including them here would be preaching to the converted. There are one or two of the more popular mountains for those in need of company, but otherwise you'll have to forgive me sins of omission!
There's no two ways about it, Cadair Idris is magnificent. From the north it appears dignified, exhibiting strength and a quiet grandeur seen in few other of Snowdonia's more fashionable mountains.
As a range of hills rather than a single peak, Cadair reaches its apex on Cadair Idris - Penygadair, where folklore speaks of Idris, the stargazing, poetry-writing giant who made it his home. Climbing history also encroaches into the story of the mountain with O.G. Jones making the first ascent of the stunning Cyfrwy Arete (Summer) (D) in 1888. Then there is the remarkable story of Arnold Lunn who, in 1909, tumbled 100 feet from the arete and lived to tell the tale, albeit with a badly mangled leg.
More sedately, two popular paths make their way up onto Penygadair, the Pony Path, which offers a pleasant but uneventful route and the Minffordd, an entirely different animal which enters and then climbs above the breathtaking Cwm Cau.
Depending on the ability and experience of my group, I usually use one or other of these paths when working on the mountain, but in my leisure time there is only one route for me, the Fox's Path. Grave warnings have been issued in an attempt to dissuade folk from the Fox's, as the higher reaches of the original path are now dangerously eroded. For experienced hillwalkers, however, there is a way to negate any potential dangers.
We begin at the Gwernan Lake Hotel (now closed and a private dwelling) and take a most agreeable path through pastures dotted with hawthorn and blackthorn. Climbing higher, the westward view is one of ravishing beauty, in stark contrast to Cadair's shadowy north wall which looms above. Past Llyn Gafr, the way becomes stony and rises into the most spellbinding mountain sanctuary imaginable, Idris' chair, with Cyfrwy forming the right arm and our route of ascent the left. Words with which to properly describe this cwm and the gorgeous Llyn y Gader fail me. Progress is made, not by a direct ascent of the steep, run out screes, but by walking to the toe of the ridge. A pale tongue of scree is loose but the struggle is short lived and before long the ridge is underfoot which leads unhindered to the trig point and summit shelter where, if you spend the night, you will wake up a poet, a madman, or not at all. I don't know what that makes me, but I am definitely alive!
When it comes to peak bagging orgies, the Nantlle Ridge is unsurpassed. The full traverse visits seven summits, the first four of which are strung together by a slender grassy crest.
In recent years, perhaps for logistical reasons, it has become a common practice to go no further than the Victorian obelisk on Mynydd Tal y Mignedd. There's nothing wrong with that, it's still a good half day walk and many's the time, when unable to arrange transport at both ends, I have enjoyed this truncated version of the Nantlle Ridge. Beyond Bwlch Dros Bern, however, the landscape undergoes a dramatic transformation; grass is replaced with heather and smooth velveteen slopes give way to craggier environs.
This is Craig Cwm Silyn, the highest peak in the range. Many of those attempting the full traverse will stride onwards to Garnedd Goch, quite unaware of the incredible scenery found in Cwm Silyn as it passes unseen beneath them. That was how it once was for me. I enjoyed the wonderful view from the summit but was somewhat underwhelmed by the broad stony plateau after the airy delights of Mynydd Drws-y-Coed. A year or two later, I began my relatively short, intense and markedly mediocre climbing career; it wasn't too long before I came to know Craig Cwm Silyn's true nature. Latterly, I have taken to walking across the moor into the cwm to sit a while beside the blue waters of Llynnau Cwm Silyn, reminiscing over golden days before ascending to the summit and backtracking over to Garnedd Goch and Mynydd Graig Goch. As a lapsed climber, such memories instill a real sense of gratitude that I have been fortunate enough to have shared amazing adventures with amazing people; a gripping ascent of Outside Edge Route (VD), a domestic argument after a route finding error half way up Ordinary Route, or the time I ran out of water and descended into the cwm, delirious and experiencing auditory hallucinations. To me, Craig Cwm Silyn will always remain a very special mountain.
As a minor incident on the heathery ridge bound for Creigiau Gleision, lowly Crimpiau is difficult to discern unless you know exactly where to look. If you have ever driven through the Ogwen Valley towards Capel Curig, however, you will have seen this lowly 475m peak hiding in plain sight.
I'd been visiting the valley for years until I finally set foot upon it one frosty March morning, having exhausted all the other popular walking routes and craving somewhere new to explore. My expectations were low, but before long I became engrossed in the labyrinthine path which weaves through corridors of low crags. Upon reaching Llyn Coryn, which occupies a damp peaty hollow, the view had greatly improved and I realised that I'd found something very special and quite at odds with the dull plod I had anticipated. Stood beside the small summit tor, I enjoyed a view which ranked with the finest I had ever seen in North Wales. For very little effort, and if time is short, Crimpiau must be the biggest 'bang for buck' peak in Northern Snowdonia. As a family-friendly mini mountain, it offers just the right amount of challenge for youngsters taking their first steps in hillwalking, especially when tackled from Llyn Crafnant where, during the summer months, the promise of ice cream from the lakeside cafe keeps young (and not so young) minds focused on getting the job done.
Were I to be confined to one range for the rest of my walking life, it would undoubtedly be the Rhinogydd. Nowhere stirs my soul in quite the same way as these low, gritstone mountains; no other range so effectively brings out the neanderthal in me. In the Rhinogydd, my capacity for lucid thought is diminished, all I am able to do is feel. Philistines may find these mountains ugly and unyielding but to connoisseurs their charms are myriad. Solitude is something we come here to enjoy. Indeed, at any given time there are many more goats per square kilometre than there are people.
In the south of the range, mile after mile of pristine sheepwalks allow unencumbered striding while to the north the going is as rough and challenging as can be. Where these two worlds meet lies the stunning Llyn Hywel, above which tower Rhinog Fachand Y Llethr. To walk from one to the other is akin to crossing the rubicon. Of the two, I would always choose to climb Rhinog Fach and after having done so I would elect to scramble halfway up a rocky rib on Y Lethr's north face from which to stare at my conquest. Rhinog Fach is good to climb but even better to look at. From the dark waters of the llyn, into which steep slabs plunge to unseen depths, a wall of scree frames the towering buttress which rises to the summit. On this buttress, many years before the development of the Tremadog crags, was to be found the only climb between Snowdon and Cadair Idris. How times have changed. The Rhinogydd, however, remain the same, inviolate, and the closest approximation of a mountain wilderness we have here in Snowdonia.
To my mind, the Snowdon Massif is the finest on the British mainland and I have spent many nights over many more pints in the Ty'n y Coed Inn stating my case. With Yr Wyddfa as its hub, it's hard to imagine a more engrossing arrangement of ridges, cwms and lakes.
Mountaineering history, folklore and industrial heritage all add to the fascination inspired by possibly the world's busiest mountain. A victim of its own success, Snowdon's problems are manifold and as someone who regularly works on the mountain I am certainly not wearing rose tinted spectacles. Whether or not you agree with my opening premise, the majesty and magnificence of the massif's architecture can not be denied.
So how are we to enjoy the mountain whilst evading the effects of over 600,000 annual summiteers? There are many ways, and my favourites centre around Y Lliwedd which, were it 34ft taller, would be considered one of the most sought after peaks in the land rather than an afterthought for those tackling the Snowdon Horseshoe. Climbers, however, have long known that Y Lliwedd is a little bit special and through the ages, luminaries such as Eckenstein, Mallory and Menlove Edwards have left their mark on its intimidating NE face.
For mere walkers there are several scrambly ways to the top, or should I say tops, for Y Lliwedd is twin-peaked with the view from each utterly spectacular. In dry weather, an ascent of Y Gribin is an entertaining preamble at Grade 1, but is best left alone if at all damp. A steep pull up from Llyn Llydaw is also worthwhile and, perhaps, the easiest way onto the mountain. My preferred route starts at Pont Bethania and follows the Watkin Path up to Bwlch Ciliau where any crowds are left behind. From here, Y Lliwedd towers above, almost Eiger-esque. A good path weaves its way up the NW ridge but for those who enjoy airy positions, easy scrambling on its left edge provides one the most enjoyable ascents of any mountain in Wales. You may see others, but they will be few in number, and upon gaining the west peak I think you'll fully understand why I rate this mountain so highly. Descend via Gallt y Wenallt and then into Cwm Merch to pick up the old mine track where solitude is almost guaranteed.
Seen from any direction, Carnedd Llewelyn appears as a bland, uninspiring dome. Closer inspection confirms this assumption and if you were to merely bag the peak and never return, it is doubtful that you would understand the significance of Wales' second highest mountain (pedants take note, Garnedd Ugain is but a top of the Snowdon Massif). Such understanding comes only after close acquaintance with the Carneddau as a whole and an appreciation of the sheer scale and extent of the range.
At the centre of this vast upland tract - the most extensive area of land above 2500ft south of the Scottish border - Llewelyn presides over four major ridge systems and exudes power and authority. Charged with cosmic energy, Llewelyn is also one of 19 holy mountains according to the Aetherius Society, a new age religious movement.
But enough of that nonsense; how shall we climb the mountain? Most reach the summit during a circuit of the southern ridges, while others approach from the north, taking in Foel Fras and Foel Grach. Yr Elen can also be used as a stepping stone onto the reigning peak. Wonderful walks, one and all, but there are wilder ways which probe the Carneddau's inner sanctums, revealing wondrous scenery along the way. The journey into Cwm Llafar is a revelation, passing beneath the gothic crags of Crib Lem and Ysgolion Duon before a rough, pathless climb up to Bwlch Cyfryw Drum and the final, breathless push for the summit. Best of all, perhaps, is the pilgrimage to Ffynnon Llyffant, Wales' highest lake, where wreckage of a Canberra B Mk2 lies strewn around. Lower down, Llyn Eigiau's breached dam adds to the sombre atmosphere. An escape from the upper cwm is found by pioneering your way up a seldom trodden ridge which arrives satisfyingly close to the top of this noble mountain.
Twin-topped and visible from practically every major mountain in Snowdonia, Arenig Fawr dominates a vast tract of wild land which stretches from Bala to Trawsfynydd. Its simplistic form, once described by Showell Styles as a 'Bactrian camel', hints at a mountain without secrets, an assumption quashed by the sequestered Llyn Arenig Fawr and its tiny bothy which nestle beneath the tiered crags of Simdde Ddu.
Enjoyable routes on shy paths can be made from all sides and, as is the nature of outlying peaks, the view from the top is immense. "Big deal", I hear you say. Nevertheless, what really grips my imagination is the air of melancholy and the profound sense of loss which surrounds the big Arenig. Over the years, the mountain has looked down on a multitude of sad events and tragedies. On Arenig's northern flank, an old quarry stands silent above the site of the former Arenig Station and the track bed of the Bala to Ffestiniog railway which was closed to passengers in 1960. To the west, the crumbling ruins of Amnodd Wen and Amnodd Bwll remain as a ghostly reminder of the farming community that thrived here for generations. On the summit itself, a memorial tells the story of an America B-17 bomber which, on the 4th of August 1943 crashed into the side of the mountain, killing all on board. More recently, in 1965, the village of Capel Celyn was flooded to create Llyn Celyn, a reservoir which would service the needs of Liverpool and the Wirral. The homes of 48 people disappeared under the deluge along with the post office, school and chapel. The loss of Capel Celyn has been neither forgotten or forgiven. Cofiwch Dryweryn.
Over the many years I have been walking in Snowdonia, perhaps my greatest pleasures have been experienced when I have stumbled, quite unexpectedly, upon relatively untrodden corners of the park which stop me in dead in my tracks. Such discoveries leave me stunned and at times rather emotional. The profound beauty of these places is only one reason for such a strong reaction; another, more affecting aspect is the overpowering atmosphere therein. While no doubt a mental construct, in some landscapes more than others, I feel a primal sense of knowing, familiarity and connection. Y Gamallt is one of those places.
Tucked away on the northern edge of the Migneint, a damp heathery bowl hosts several charming bodies of water, the largest of which, Llynnau Gamallt, are popular with the fishermen of Ffestiniog but otherwise unknown to all but a select group of hill nerds bent on seeing everything there is to be seen in North Wales. None of us accomplish this feat but rest assured, we will die trying! If you happen to come this way, you may chance upon a fisherman's bothy and succumb to the irresistible urge to step inside. It is a filthy, vermin-infested hovel in which even a framed photograph of David Bowie and a selection of sweets offer little inducement to tarry. Through the window can be seen the tottering, chossy escarpment of Graig Goch rising above the water and a scree-fringed peak. This peak is Y Clochdy, our next port of call. From this vantage point, the lie of the land is well seen and brings to mind the North West Highlands, albeit in miniature form. After appraising a wild and empty landscape, we gain the main ridge and embark on one of the most lovely kilometres of walking imaginable. Short days don't get much better than this.
Eviscerated and plundered, Elidir Fawr is not half the mountain it used to be and one can only guess at how its decimated western slopes may have looked before the arrival of the quarrymen in 1787. Almost 200 years later, the Dinorwig Pumped Storage Scheme added insult to injury and irrevocably changed the nature of Llyn Peris and Marchlyn Mawr. Above the ugliness, however, its final 300 metres remain unspoilt and despite everything, Elidir Fawr is very much worth climbing.
A walk around Marchlyn Mawr's encircling ridges is one of Snowdonia's most enjoyable shorter days, culminating in one of the finest summits in the area. Blinkers are required for the first couple of kilometres but once above the reservoir service road they can be discarded as you enter the first of serval geological epochs visited on your journey; to peer down the Atlantic Slab into Cwm Graianog is a thrilling experience. By the time you get to Bwlch y Marchlyn, any notions of a mountain beyond redemption are set aside as you immerse yourself in a beautiful passage of ridge walking. The summit itself is, perhaps, the reason why I have included this much abused peak on the list. Of all the Glyderau tops, it is second only to Tryfan and takes the form of an elongated rocky crest which is a joy to tread and a wonderful place to linger.
Many years have elapsed since I lost count of the times I have made my way up Moel Siabod to enjoy 'that' view. Eleven years ago, I came to live in its shadow but even before then I had developed much affection for this little gem of a mountain. Upon it I have slept, worked, enjoyed romantic trysts and led countless folk, both young and old, to its friendly scrambles. When the time comes, Cwm Foel with its gorgeous, unspoilt llyn will act as my Innominate Tarn.
Unlike its loftier neighbours, old Siabod is staunchly independent and it is said that it has the largest footprint of any single peak in Europe. I have to doubt the veracity of such claims but by my reckoning, it occupies around 30 square kilometres hemmed in between Dyffryn Mymbyr and the Lledr Valley. Arguments rage between the villagers of Capel Curig and Dolwyddelan as to whom the mountain belongs but in truth, it belongs to us all, whether we live near or far.
Routes of ascent are few, though all but the long slog from Plas y Brenin are of the finest vintage. Most will begin their ascent from Bryn Glo, crossing Pont Cyfyng before the steep pull up to Rhos Farm where a cart track leads to an unnamed lake. Locals know this as 'Llyn Golchi', the washing lake. Past the ruins of Foel Quarry, Cwm Foel is soon entered and good sport can be had by watching unsuspecting walkers sink waist-deep into the sucking bogs. My favourite way avoids such inconveniences by taking the old byway into the forest above Dolwyddelan. A wild and picturesque route follows the Afon Ystumiau up to Llyn y Foel which bursts unexpectedly into view. The steep headwall of the cwm looks impregnable but a cradling arm of rough rock offers hope of a way to the top. This, the Daear Ddu ridge, looks intimidating from below but is in fact an imposter. For absolute beginners there is no better introduction to scrambling than Daear Ddu. While airy and exciting, it is a safe route which allows much variation; harder passages can be eschewed at a moment's notice for easier lines with little or no exposure. A descent of the NE Ridge adds more fun to the day but before you get there, weather permitting, you'll enjoy one of the greatest views in North Wales.
The Cairngorms are a unique range, and the new hillwalker's guide to the wider area celebrates the full diversity of this special part of North-East Scotland. Here the authors of the book introduce some of their personal highlights, from the lo...
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