From Llanberis pass

Form the road where I was watching the Siskin, I dropped down the valley in rapidly increasing temperatures and no wind. It was still only 08:30 in the morning, but it would take me the best part of 2 hours to crawl up the slopes of Elidir Fawr.

At intervals I stopped for a slug of water and as the path crossed the stream half way up, I dumped my head into its frigid waters and relished in the relief it gave. In truth I was beginning to appreciate  how long it had been since I last walked any distance. A life time of walking, running, swimming, cycling, you name it can soon be lost in the confines of an office. But that's ok. I didn't really expect it to be any different and I liked the challenge I had set myself all the more for knowing that I would have to work hard in the days, weeks and months ahead.

On the summit I met a women and her two dogs running. The second of the four legged joggers looked as old as the hills. I marvelled at their stamina but worried about the effects of the heat and no water on an animal that age. I've no doubt he had being doing it day in day out for years and there in lay the reason why he could and I was finding that it wasn't as easy as I would like.

Thirty minutes later as I crouched against the only boulder capable of providing any shade, I watched as another couple of fell runners dropped rapidly down the hill toward me. The girl looked in better shape and they were also headed over the same route as I. They had made a much smarter choice, starting that morning at Pen Y Pass. From there they had summited Crib Goch direct before doing the ridge and then Snowdon before descending the railway line to a point above Nant Peris to where I had started up Elidir Fawr.

For all the times I had walked across these hills, I had never yet seen some of the more notable landmarks. Somehow I had avoided the mountains most well known features, Bristley Ridge, The Cantilever and even Adam and Eve atop Tryfan. Mostly because I'd previously been so unlucky with the weather, more often navigating with a compass across the Glyders plateau than roasting in a late July scorcher.

From Adam  and Eve I dropped straight down the boulder field to the north west and the Ogwen cafe, except that it is being rebuilt and has been substituted in the interim by an excellent food and drinks van.



My weekend in North Wales was done and for two days I would hobble around on thigh muscles that had relearned a good lesson.

Since I got back I have started a list diary of training. I make no excuse for the apparent lack of ambition in this. Rome wasn't built in a day and I've been here before. Endurance training has to start somewhere and I've been here before. It will be interesting to look back at these early entries in a few months time.

In the mean-time I await the return of my possible rowing partner to find out if we can really get started on the Atlantic 2017 bid.