A weekend scrambling in Snowdonia National Park

The beginning of October saw an impromptu gathering at a small campsite at the edge of Snowdonia NP, complete with a roaring log bucket BBQ fire, falling darkness and freshly caught beer from the stream heralded the start of another weekend full of good craic, bad jokes and some serious disco leg caused by dodgy exposed traverses.

The scrambling was fast and fluid with tons of route options and we were truly lucky with the weather.

For the most part, we kept to the quieter routes – there was people everywhere – scrambling up into the main tourist path to the top of Snowdonia was like being in a crowded shopping centre on a Saturday afternoon, albeit a shopping centre with poor visibility and lots of crowds.

We came across wild Billy goats battling it out on the ramparts of Llechog

And an unbelievably clear Brocken Spectre on Tryfan ridge.

Frosty mornings and cold clear nights staring into the red heat of the fire were a good reminder of just how good it felt to be back living outside for a couple of days.

An eight hour Sunday drive back into reality left nothing but memories and a few crisps for the marauding camp ducks.

My abiding memories – Snowdonia NP is small, like a 10th scale model of the Cairngorms, with some amazing scrambles, awesome views and a great catch up. But the number of people – well that was just unreal.

I think I’ll stick to the wet windy haunts of NW Scotland – I prefer multitudes of midges to multitudes of people – grump grump. Although the Welsh rum is pretty good – or so i’m told.