Weekend Break Before My A-Level Exams
The end of May 1997 brought another chance to escape the bustle of everyday life and return to the mountains, this time on a bivvy trip deep in the Carneddau range of Snowdonia. Hot on the heels of my Rum Cuillin escapades and the YHA Peak Marathon from Edale to Ilam, it might seem as though I barely had time to catch my breath, let alone dry my kit!
Saturday: Evening Arrival and a Riverside Bivvy
24 May 1997
We set off from Bloxham School at around 4:30 p.m., immediately after Founder’s Tide, and drove to northern Snowdonia, aiming for a spot near Gwernydd, about 7 km NNW of Tryfan. The journey didn’t go entirely to plan (the poor car took a knock on a hidden pile of rocks), but by 9:00 p.m., we were lacing up our shoes and shouldering our packs.
Our plan? A relaxed bivvy under the stars, pitched somewhere quiet beside the Afon Lloer, a swift-flowing mountain river that carves a dramatic path down from the Carneddau heights. After an hour’s walk, we stumbled upon the perfect bivvy site, a tiny island in the river, with water coursing around either side. Out came the stove and our “boil-in-the-bag” dinners. This was the kind of weather we dream about: classic blocking high pressure, searingly hot days, and crystal-clear, chilly nights.
Sunday: Experiments, Scrambles, and Four Major Summits
25 May 1997
Morning arrived early. I woke at 7:30 a.m. to my father’s enthusiastic cry of “Breakfast time!”, though “experimental porridge” might have been a more accurate description. Let’s just say it never made it into our family’s greatest culinary hits!
By 9:00 a.m., we were packed and climbing above the valley. The plan was to scramble up a steep section of scree to reach a higher ridge, but 200 m of loose rock (plus heavy packs) quickly convinced us otherwise. Instead, we traversed around the slope to Mynydd Du and joined the main Carneddau ridge. As if it were karma having its way, I would be back here just a few months later, tackling the same scramble during my Summer Mountain Leader Training, but more on that in another post.
The Peaks We Summited That Day:
- Carnedd Dafydd (1,044 m)
As we made our final approach, we passed a couple taking a breather. We soon left them behind, momentarily enjoying the illusion that we were fitter than we felt! The summit itself rewarded us with an expansive view across the Ogwen Valley, with the iconic shape of Tryfan dominating the skyline. - Pen yr Ole Wen (978 m)
From Carnedd Dafydd, we ambled over to Pen yr Ole Wen, peering down at the packed-out campsites in the valley. A quick five-minute rest, just enough to soak in the stunning panorama, and then we headed back across the ridge, moving eastward. - Carnedd Llewelyn (1,064 m)
By about 1:00 p.m., under a blazing sun and barely a hint of wind, we trudged up to the highest peak of the Carneddau. The summit plateau’s broadness can be disorienting in bad weather, but under glorious sunshine, it felt like a proper vantage point, offering views in all directions, from the Glyderau in the south to the coast in the north. - Yr Elen (962 m)
A quick detour northwest brought us to the quieter summit of Yr Elen, perched somewhat off the main ridge. Fewer walkers venture here, giving us a rare moment of pure solitude.
Bivvy Number Two
After summiting Yr Elen, we descended to grid reference SH 677 648, dropping into the same valley where we’d slept the night before. We found another perfect riverside spot, cool water close at hand, a soft patch of ground for the bivvy.
The rest of the day was pure relaxation: shoes off, rucksacks propped up, and a gentle breeze cutting through the heat. Eventually, we roused ourselves to cook dinner, this time, a “Pasta in Tomato Sauce” recipe straight from the Backpacker Cookbook (For some camping food inspiration, you can read more here: Scrambling and Wild Camping with My Daughter on Old Man of Coniston). We turned in for the night, lulled by the steady rush of the nearby stream.
Monday: A Cuppa and Home
26 May 1997
Morning came quietly. We brewed a simple cup of tea (my father’s signature mountain ritual) and then, with minimal fuss, packed up our kit. A short stroll back to the car gave us time to reflect on the weekend’s highlights, the comfort of a starry bivvy, the satisfaction of bagging four Carneddau summits, and the sheer contentment of simply being among the peaks.
Naturally, we made a bacon butty pit stop at the Ogwen Cottage café, a well-earned treat after two nights sleeping on the ground. By mid-morning, we were back on the road, winding our way homeward.
An Ongoing Tradition
This Carneddau bivvy was just one of many father-and-son escapades from that time. We’ve shared scrambles in Bryant’s Gully (you can read more in my earlier post: “Journey into Mountaineering”), bivvied on a perfect grass ledge high in the hills, and endured midges in the Lake District’s Great Moss region (where I learned the hard way to rig a makeshift mosquito net to my bivvy bag’s diagonal zipper!).
Each trip brought its own brand of adventure, from wet, slimy rock steps to unstoppable swarms of insects. The discomforts were real, but the sense of freedom? Unbeatable.
As I reflect on these nights spent outside, like the evening in Bryant’s Gully, worried I might roll in my sleep and tumble off the edge, or the time I roasted inside my bivvy just to avoid the midges, I realise how each seemingly trivial challenge shaped my bond with these wild spaces. Whether it’s a scramble, a ridge run, or a meander from Edale to Ilam, the mountains always invite us to step into nature’s grandeur, even if it means carrying the extra weight of a stove and a bivvy.
Route in Brief
- Total Distance: ~22 km
- Height Gain: ~1,285 m
- Summits: Carnedd Dafydd (1,044 m), Pen yr Ole Wen (978 m), Carnedd Llewelyn (1,064 m), Yr Elen (962 m)
- Bivvy Spots: Two separate riverside pitches in the valley north of the main ridge, each chosen for easy water access and scenic isolation.
Reflections & Future Plans
These bivvy trips reaffirm that sometimes the simplest adventures, a bivvy, a sleeping bag, and a stove under the stars, are the most memorable. If you’ve ever considered wild camping, the Carneddau is a superb place to start: big hills, broad vistas, and generally fewer crowds than the Snowdon massif.
After such a blissful weekend, my next adventure took me to the other end of Wales, the Forest of Dean. First, though, I had to get my A-level exams out of the way!
The mountains never stop offering fresh horizons, and there were plenty more Backpacker Cookbook meals to cook in the hills of 1997.
I’ll always cherish these father-son escapes, the ephemeral star-filled skies, the warmth of a well-brewed mountain cuppa, and, of course, the obligatory bacon butty.
Until next time, keep exploring and keep learning.