Disappointment on the Miner's Track up Mount Snowdon

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It's doubtful that a full Welsh Breakfast is the ideal preparation for a trek up a mountain. None-the-less with this inside us we set off out of Llanberis into the heart of Snowdonia National Park. The landscape looked hugely awe-inspiring. Boulders that had been deposited by the slow moving glaciers more than 12,000 years ago loomed above us, it felt as if we had entered another world, an inhospitable world lacking any life aside sheep. The road meandered around and shortly led us to Pen-y-pass, the starting point for a variety of routes to the Snowdon Summit. It seemed colder, windier and less inviting than previous days. Perhaps the novelty of it all had worn off.

We set off up the broad and gently climbing track passing the Gwynant Valley on our left hand side. The pathway was widely exposed to the elements and consequently we took a hearty battering from the winds. The mood was certainly much lower than at this point yesterday. The track had been built in the nineteenth century to serve the Britannia Copper Mines, but since the closure of the mines in 1917 the path is the territory of hikers and walkers such as ourselves. A sudden turn in the path and our spirits lifted, the peaks that make up the Snowdon Horseshoe; Y Lliwedd, Yr Wyddfa, Crib y Ddysgyl and Crib Goch revealed themselves. We were now sheltered from the punishing wind, the vistas were incredibly impressive and the lakes came into view. Llyn Teyrn is the first lake encountered. Teyrn meaning tyrant or leader was so called because the lake was once owned by a chieftain who had sole fish netting rights. Some time after this period the lake was occupied by French Soldiers that came here to escape the Napoleonic Wars. The barracks that they built from local stone and rock are still visible on the eastern edge of Teyrn. Protecting the lake to its western edge is a large volcanic deposit. This dominating rock is composed of dolerite and has been sculpted into its present form by glacial activity. The Snowdon facing edge has a smooth polished look, thanks to the shearing effects of the glacier running down the valley. The opposite side has a much more rugged appearance due to the ice plucking and tearing out blocks of rock as it passed by.

The path remained relatively flat as it left Llyn Teyrn behind and headed in the direction of the peak. The peaks of the horseshoe became ever more dominating after every turn, it's difficult to believe that the summit of Snowdon was even achievable as it was standing an intimidating distance above us. The larger of the lakes slowly came into view. Llyn Llydaw is a glacial corrie lake gouged out by the glacier to a depth of 58 meters. A recently enlarged causeway led us across the lake but in the days of the copper mining this didn't exist. A raft used to ferry the workers, horses and carts full of copper ore back and forth. The remnants of this age are present to this day. Although derelict the sorting and crushing mill eerily perches on the lakes shores. It was difficult to imagine just how life must have been in the 1850s when the copper mines were flourishing. It was so peaceful and tranquil as we rambled the pathway but in its hay day this area would have been a hive of activity, the noise of the crushing mills would have echoed in the hills. The banter of the workers filling the mountainous air. The path surely had to start climbing soon. So far the ascent had been gradual. We were not disappointed. After the very next turn the Miners Track became much more demanding.

The surface underfoot changed from a pleasant smooth path to a rocky, uneven climb. The terrain around was no longer grassy but rocks coated in compacted snow and ice. The temperature was sub zero and the waterfalls had fallen victim to the ice. They were solidified in place and seemingly spellbound. This made for beautiful scenes. The going got tough as we continued to climb, layers of clothing were shed and the muscles began to ache. It was worth the effort as we emerged at Llyn Glaslyn. The highest and last of the three lakes of the Miners Track. Home to the mythical (we hoped) and legendary afanc. The water monster used to reside and dine on the population of Betws-y-Coed before the Coeds grouped together and with the help of local oxen carted the mighty beast over Moel Siabod from the Conwy River and dumped it into Llyn Glaslyn under the watchful eye of Mount Snowdon.

We felt a sense of satisfaction that we reached this significant landmark. Snowdon and its sister peaks now proudly looked down on us. It felt like we were in an enormous cauldron, with the cliff faces closing us in. All the faces were deep in snow and seemingly impassable. Scrambling and hiking around the peaks, people were everywhere. We looked up easterly at people entering the cauldron from the Pyg Track. Here the Miners and Pyg tracks unite and proceed up the zigzag path. Specks on the upper rims used their walking poles as they trekked to reach their destination. The more daring amongst us were scaling the face of the mountain, patiently hauling themselves up vertical snow covered climbs and the most advanced were closing in on the 1085m summit. We sat at this gateway to the summit wondering just where to go from here. The clear pathway had come to an end and it seemed that there was nowhere to go. We watched on as streams of experienced climbers passed us, mounted their crampons and got their ice axes at the ready. They each took various routes up a vaguely marked snow laden rock scramble. It was difficult to make out any common path. We were once again in a dilemma. The climb was steep and the rocks and snow were slippery. We didn't have the equipment to make the ascent as safe as we would have liked. Pride and determination forced us to try and make a mark on it. Maybe if we could make it to the top of the scramble the pathway may become clear once again? Walkers on the Pyg Track seemed to be proceeding with little impedance. Again we had entered the complete unknown. We tried to fashion out our own route up the scramble. Each step was slippery and uncertain. Slowly we went on but eventually it was in vain. Neither our desire or endeavour could take us any further. Looking back it was already difficult to trace where we had come from. Looking on, where would we go? Should we continue but then we may not be able to get down or be able to find the Pyg Track we so wanted.

Disappointingly we slipped and slide our way down to the shores of Llyn Glaslyn. We felt despondent that we had been defeated. Defeated only by our lack of equipment and experience. There was no way we could have continued but with the summit in view and its arms open and knowing that people would successfully make it, it made for trying times. After a long period recollecting our thoughts, wandering around the remnants of the miners homes and marvelling at this stunning area of natural beauty we picked ourselves up and made the descent back to Pen-y-pass.

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