By Louise Burness – April 2006

Before I start I would like to make it very clear that the New Year
weekend was really enjoyable and relaxing.

The drive to North Wales was no worse than normal on a Friday night.
Indeed the traffic was very light. However, the journey wasn’t fast as
spray and surface water left from the melting snow meant that speeds
needed to be curtailed. Every move to overtake a lorry was a precision
operation. Stage one; wait well back until you have a good clear run
for a safe distance past the lorry. Stage two; study the road layout.
Stage three; turn the wipers on full blast, charge and try to keep to
the line you memorised as all visibility is obliterated in the lorry’s
wake. There was a moment of total terror when I heard a loud bang and
then a hiss of escaping air. I gripped the steering wheel, slapped on
the hazards and started heading for the hard shoulder when Pete
informed me that his bike tyre had burst! There was another moment to
total terror when I noticed two men doing the highland fling – very
seasonal – but they were on the inside lane at the time. I realised
that they were directing traffic away from a car that had clearly spun
out of control.

Eventually, we arrived during a dry spell and whipped the tent up
extremely fast. We were camping at Nant Peris, whilst the rest of the
party were staying in the bunkhouse over the road. We popped into the
bunkhouse to say hello to the other partygoers, most of whom arrived a
few days earlier. Although it was not late, most were already in bed.
Despite two groups dropping out at the last moment because of
depressing weather forecasts, there were still eleven people including
us.

It was our first night in the new tent. And by about midnight we
regretted not adding extra guy lines as the wind gusted up the valley
and the rain lashed down. And we regretted it at 1am, 2am, 3am and so
on. Still, we emerged dry the next morning. Although we are hardy
campers, we felt that it was our duty to be sociable, to join the
others and cook in the bunkhouse. I am sure we would have done the same
had it not been lashing down. Actually “down” is hardly the right word,
as the strong wind meant that the rain came at you sideways. The
bunkhouse was very convenient as John had borrowed a large urn for us
to boil water in – the local reservoir had been polluted and the water
was then un-safe to drink.

Steve and Caroline had a plan to go on a bike ride, and since I also
had a new bike to try out, we decided to join them. While they did a
bit of shopping, Pete mended his tyre and I tried to remove the toe
clips that had come supplied with my bike. Steve and Caroline returned
half an hour later and five minutes after that Steve had actually
removed the toe clips, and we were almost on our way. Pete and I
arrived at the designated car park before Steve and Caroline who had a
bit more shopping to do. We were at the start of the Marin trail, just
outside of Betws-y-Coed, which was 25km of prepared hard and exciting
trail. Being a bit further from the mountains than Nant Peris, it was,
to my relief, actually a lot drier! We set off, but within 2km Caroline
had been sick. She took herself back to the car, and possibly a bit
more shopping. The three of us carried on. A few kilometres later
having just reached a bit where I felt that walking might be the better
part of valour I realised that Pete was also walking. Once off the
steep technical section, he explained that his back wheel had come off.
Half an hour later, we decided that Pete could have back brakes or a
rear wheel but not both. Time to retreat and go shopping.

That night was New Years Eve. We ate in the bunk house, exchanged the
days stories, admired the purchases, and it was still only 9 o clock.
For completeness, Martin and Adrian almost did a shopping directisimo
(shopping curtailed by cursory glance at conditions in the Tryfan
region before retreating to the sanctuary of a shop somewhere in North
Wales), whilst the others headed up a hill, and then abandoned the rest
of their route in favour of a shopping trip. In an effort to make the
time pass, the boys started trying to climb round the table. Width-ways
was achieved and then the length-ways challenge commenced. Steve C
managed a traverse, but his technique (feet first onto the supporting
strut) was then disqualified on the grounds that he had too much weight
on the strut and not enough hanging off the tabletop. All seemed lost,
until Adrian had a good idea. Although he failed, twice, to complete
the manoeuvre, landing, twice, hard on his back, it was well enough
demonstrated to enable Steve G to complete the feat. The New Year was
seen in style although most people got the lyrics of Auld Lang Syne
wrong for goodness sake.

The next day was wet again. Very wet. Adrian decided his sore bum
needed to be taken home for some TLC. John decided that he needed to
get home and prepare for work on Tuesday. A shopping trip was organised
for the rest – except for Pete and me who took ourselves walking.

I may need to propose a new definition of walking for the Oxford
English dictionary to cover paddling across waterlogged fields and
crawling near steep edges in strong, gusty winds. We saw no one else
out that day – although that might just have been the poor visibility.
Then again, it probably wasn’t. When we did have views they were very
confusing. We finally realised that many of the rivers we caught
glimpses of were actually roads through Beddgelert forest. Despite the
foul weather we actually extended our route by 3km – OK so we needed to
find a way around a minor stream that had turned into an impassable
raging white-water torrent.

After that we took ourselves to Pete’s Eats for a bite of dinner – we
had grabbed cake en-route but had not felt inclined to have a proper
picnic at the top of Y Garn! Since we had now caught up with the
shopping trip troop we joined in for a bit. The staff at V-12 did admit
it had been an excellent weekend for sales. Then back to Pete’s Eats
for another giant cup of tea. Dinner, beer and admiration of the
purchases followed again in the bunkhouse.

The final morning was much drier, at last! We packed up quickly and
headed off to the hills (two little tops on the east edge of the
Carneddau), and stayed out for as long as we could. The journey home
for us was easy and along the way we did pass Ian, Christina and Monty.
No, I am not bragging about how fast I can drive – they were on the
back of a tow truck at the time! Pete said it was a surreal experience
for him as he awoke from a brief slumber in the passenger-seat to see
Christina’s car floating above him! BTW, rumour has it that further
shopping mission were executed by the other team members before their
return home! I am sure that the shopkeepers in North Wales are now
missing the presence of the IMC!