Through Pine and Under Peak.
We had arrived in Eryri (Snowdonia) after a busy few days exploring the west coast of Ynys Môn, (Anglesey). Our minds had been saturated with salt and sea so we sought drier, higher landscapes to explore. We are often drawn to the village of Beddgelert with its mighty, pounding waters of the Afon Glaslyn flowing from Yr Wyddfa, (Snowdon), alongside its grey, stone cottages. Its twisting lanes, cresting over small bridges with mist pouring down the steep mountain sides with ebullience seemingly wrapping the village in a quilt of silver. It is a village in the heart of Eryri, maybe the beating heart itself. From this cluster of saturated excellence are roads, paths and trails leading one to a plethora of beauty spots and iconic locations. We were about to explore one of these very trails, which make Beddgelert so coverted by locals and tourists alike.
Farmland on the edge of Beddgelert
The Beddgelert Forest is a large forest to the north of the village. It sits between the mighty peaks of Moel Hebog and Yr Wyddfa. The Lôn Gwyrfai trail takes you from Beddgelert to the village of Rhyd Ddu, at the very feet of Yr Wyddfa itself. The trail begins in the most useful place a trail could begin, a car park! From the car park take the path alongside the train tracks, which switchback across your path as you climb towards Moel Hebog. Its vertex sits above you looking rather magnificent. The train tracks belong to the Welsh Highland Railway and the echoing whistles of the narrow gauge trains are unforgettably haunting as you saunter through the forest.
Moel Hebog
The trail first climbs through scrubbed land covered in large ferns and rowan, hawthorn and apple trees. Swifts are overhead and Wagtails are seen between the trees reminding you that you are near the Afon Glaslyn still, even as you climb toward mountains so high.
The path then forks away from Moel Hebog as its summit path sits before you. It is here you enter the forest. The air closes in and the trees tower above you. The path climbs steeply uphill through the pines. Your feet tread softly on fallen needles cushioning your steps and silencing your passage.
You climb for a few kilometres, in varying gradients, until the trail opens up and vistas open up before you. To the south you can look down towards Cwnstradllyn and east towards Cwm Bychan where the Roman Steps are. Your view eastwards takes you towards Bethania and Nantgwynant with the peaks of Craig Wen and Yr Aran rising up before you. The sun was hiting the peaks, lighting them up as if it was guiding us what to look at. The whisps of clouds on the summits looking like nothing more than dust upon a sideboard. With Moel Hebog towering behing you, you can continue, as we did, through the forest passing hidden cottages, with smoke filled chimneys, nestled into the trees. The path was wider here to allow cars to enter the forest but we never saw anything of the kind. The whistle of steam trains continued to echo through the forestscape as the sun shone down on us.
After a while we were greeted with an aspect like no other. The Welsh Highland Railway cut through the trees and we entered another open landscape. The hedgerows filled with ferns, blackberries and sloe allowing us fleeting views of what lay ahead. Yr Wyddfa sat in our path. Towering high, proud looking and dominant. Grey clouds circled above it making it appear gloomy when everywhere else was bathed in sunshine. As we searched for gaps in the hedgerows to see our eyes conquest, the hedge bit back, spiking our legs with thorn and stick. A train then could be heard in the distance, or was it close? It was difficult to judge as it echoed around the mountains which now surrounded us like we were the last pawn on a chessboard, with the pieces closing in. The dark clouds continued to roll and envelop Yr Wyddfa until there was no more and only its stark outline against the blue sky was before us. A train burst into view, deep red and gold with that smell like no other. Pounding metal and boiling oil was showing us tremendous power, but fell short against the authority of the mountain. What a combination. We had been blessed by Eryri again.
The Welsh Highand Railway passing under Yr Wydffa
Our path now took us through broadleaf trees. They were more gnarled and twisted. Remnants of industry littered the path with roofless, stone cottages providing shelter for sheep and squirrel. Llyn y Gader, a large lake on the edge of the forest, was in front of us. Soft grass mounds undulated to its dark waters. The slate rocky landscape and spoils of industry long ago had blackened the water and its stillness was not helping to supress the eerie, chilling atmosphere. The trail follows the edge of the blackish tarn until you reached a causeway which allowed us to skim over the water. Gold Finches taunted us with their friendliness only to escape at the final moment.
Craig Wen and Yr Aran
At the far side of the water we had reached the village of Rhyd Ddu and the end of the Lôn Gwyrfai trail. We’d seen mountains, forests, lakes, history, nature and felt that fresh air on our face.
The trail is 7km long meaning you can either turn around and walk another 7km back to Beddgelert, as we did, or use the public transport available in Rhyd Ddu to get you back to Beddgelert.
