All Steamed Up – Alison (Nov 1999)

What’s the odd one out between:

            Steam from the kettle

            Steamed up glasses

            Steam from breath in the cold air

            Steam in a sauna

            Steam from old trains?

Well on the recent Moelwyns weekend we experienced all of them - apart from the sauna.

It was a small (but elite!) crew that made their way up on Friday night, with Rob jet setting in from Switzerland for the weekend.  After bumping into each other at the usual services, the two carloads arrived at pretty much the same time, and not too late given the fairly free-flowing traffic – I hadn’t even had time to get the kettle steaming.

The fact that the hut hadn’t been used since September probably accounted for the cold unlived-in feeling, but once Tony found the switch to the bar heater the lounge area soon warmed up.  Glasses steamed up a bit when first put on away from the heaters though, and you could see your breath in the washroom and loo first thing in the morning.

We decided to attempt a horseshoe walk taking in Cnicht (the “Matterhorn” of Wales, so called because from one angle it looks like a helmet, although Cnicht is apparently an English word), Moelwyn Bach and Moelwyn Fawr (little and big white mountain).  We knocked Cnicht off fairly quickly, with the short scrambly bit to the top much easier than it looks from the bottom.  But the cloud was very low and the top ridge was covered in a fairly thick mist, which meant lots of checking of compasses, especially when it came to finding the right way off the ridge and our next quarry.  Which was in fact an old slate quarry, with some buildings still enough in tact to provide some shelter from the wind for lunch.  They looked quite eerie as they loomed up in the mist.

The extra navigation, however, meant we were behind schedule so we decided to cut our losses rather than ending up in the dark and head back on a path that gradually descended into a beautiful valley (if you could imagine it with the sun shining!), leaving the two Moelwyns to be tackled directly from the hut the next day.  We weren’t the only ones to head down early, but other groups we saw were coming down to watch the football (they must have missed most of it as the score was announced on the radio not long after).  Of course, none of us had the remotest interest in the football!  We headed into Porthmadog for tea and food (for those stupid enough to leave their sarnies in the hut fridge – it’s not the first time I’ve done it either!), before dragging Tony away from the antique shops back to the hut for R&R, and more steaming kettles.  Our rumbling stomachs soon had us setting off for the pub though, with Sheila and Rob pulling faces at the cars behind whilst in the kid’s seats (forcing them all to overtake).  Good food and beer was had by all at the Grapes in Maentwrog.

On the Sunday morning the cloud was even lower with a more persistent drizzle and heavier showers.  Although we all set off together, Bill and Sheila decided on a longer, lower route.  Once the rest of us realised we weren’t going to get over a 10ft metal gate and that we would have to backtrack most of the way back down, and with one more heavier shower and black clouds looming, I decided to turn back and try to catch Bill and Sheila up as I knew roughly where they were heading, leaving Rob, Tony and Tony to the mercy of the rain.

Soon after I caught them we could hear train whistles in the distance, so we waited at a suitably photographic spot (Bill is determined not to let Peter win next year’s photo competition!).  We’d finished coffee and almost given up on it, but eventually a train did appear; not a passenger train but 3 of the little steam engines were being pulled from Blaenau to Porthmadog.  It wasn’t long after that before we reached one of the stations, a particularly scenic one as the line loops round and back over itself so you see the train for ages.  According to the timetable, the next train was almost due so we decided to wait.  By now the weather had brightened up (otherwise we had all quietly thought about catching the train back!).  We had forgotten it was Remembrance Sunday however, which we think is why the train was over 15 minutes behind schedule, but it was worth the wait.  To see the train chugging along the valley, steam flying out behind, is quite something.

Not wanting to spend ages waiting for the others, we walked a longer way round to get back, on the way getting fabulous views of the two Moelwyns and the jagged-looking ridge between them.  It looked (and was confirmed by the others) a good walk for another time.  Just as we neared the cottage we heard the train again so we waited at the level crossing to see it come through.

After tea and a quick tidy-up we were off steaming down the motorway.  Another good weekend walking!