Back to it

Early doors saw yours truly on a dawn raid around the Bonsai Mountain with a demi clan of Berners (6 out of the 12) in an effort to gain some fitness before the summers man test. Waddling along on sheets of ice wishing I had got my crampons on at less than 2 miles an hour is hardly going to get the pulse racing (except when trying to remain upright) but at least its a start. The Big Black Mountain Challenge is set for May the 16th and I have already got a place booked so every bit of time spent going uphill helps. Especially on ice.

Welcome back

 Time flies. So fast that the last time I saw this vista the cafe at the start was a green shack with a toilet attached that smelled like a medieval sewer. The food was hot and unrecognisable unless you had a bacon sarnie which looked the part and set in its own lard in the chill mountain air unless you ate it quickly.

 I told the hyperactive anorexic Liverpudlian in the new hybrid cafe that now looked like a cross between Greggs and Costa but with less soul and worse food that things had changed. Yes she agreed, they had, must have been 3 years ago then your last visit, er no...10 years, but I didn't admit that.
She continued.
Apparently the same people own the cafe as last visit but they were able to upgrade to the new all singing all dancing fragrance free toilets with lottery money. Not winnings, but funding. Anyway after a tasteless 500 calories and a cuppa yours truly, Keith and Spotty the action Berner set out to complete a traverse of the Devils Kitchen, both Glyders and then home in time for tea and medals. The approach route had also changed, instead of hauling ourselves up a sheer rock wall at the back of the cafe, health and safety set us along a wheelchair friendly track in the opposite direction until we were allowed to head off vaguely in the right direction. Having circumnavigated the lake and eyeing the rock wall at the end the way forward was obvious, up, and aim for the dark crack in the centre. From there it should be easy. Ish.

 Initially things were none too bad, crossing the snowline we encountered iced rock, but some helpful stonework almost like steps. I had taken Spotty as memory served that this was a straightforward route with no real tricky bits, so dog friendly.`

 Which it was. Apart from this near vertical section with Spotty in some difficulty (falling) and me with no rope so not able to help, or descend thanks to the ice. The only way was up.

 Here we see Spotty demonstrating true grit, its his fourth attempt, just to his right you can see paw prints higher up, the high water mark of the previous attempt. He didn't make this one either and this time he left blood on the rocks from a cut paw. Camera away I dropped down a few feet and lay down good arm outstretched and this time managed to grab his collar giving his the final bit of help he needed. This had an unexpected consequence in that I now had a very happy Berner on an icy ledge with me, who, in his enthusiasm to thank me, nearly sent us both back to ground zero a lot quicker that either of us would have wanted. Thankfully a swift bollocking curbed his exuberance and we were able to extract ourself from the danger zone.

 It was a tough climb after nearly two hours we topped out

 where we encountered a 300 metre ice slope. Crampons on, ice axes out and we were away. Spotty really enjoyed this bit, in fact he was sliding down and then running back up. Had I not been maintaining 12 point contact with the acute angle of the mountain then this would have been captured on film.

 The alien like landscape of the summit hove into view, along with a break in the cloud cover allowing us fantastic views

 where Spotty played King of the Hill.

 Last Novembers route appeared through the gloom

 as did the lake from where we started.

 The summit of Glyder Fawr has a very famous stone called The Cantilver, Keith posed for the compulsory photo while I concentrated on eating.

 I took the easy route down, deciding that Bristley Ridge was not K9 compatible so we headed south then north east to the saddle between the Glyders and Tryfan. Daylight was running out but we made the descent without needing headtorches

with the final mile or so out of the snow. Buoyed up with thoughts of a cuppa, happy with our success and overjoyed that we were dry we sped up a bit just in case the new look cafe had new look opening times. The old cafe stayed open as long as there were cars in the car park.
Ahead of us several dozen climbers were converging all with one thought in mind.
Tea.
We finished a 5pm.
In time to see the lights go out and the shutters go down on the cafe.
Progress sucks.

Decisions decisions

Sit inside the cottage next to a warm rayburn and be all nice and toasty or sit in the wind and snow on top of the duck house.
You decide.
Nemo, our very lazy ginger tom cat showing how bright he really is.

Halfway there

 Yesterday saw yours truly manage to exploit a weather window, ie. a gap in the storms where you could at least stand upright, and ride my bike to work. This had to be the mountain bike as the racing steed might not have coped with my bulk and the addition of a rucksack full of clean clothes, laptop, shoes, phones, research papers, food (lots, obviously) diary, notebook, and coat. Despite this a gentle ride in was much appreciated, the hum of the tyres, the sun on the face, wind in the hair, that type of thing.  Once at the office the clouds gathered and by lunchtime weather warnings were out and the bike was in the office, stuck halfway as I got a lift home.

 Snow fell overnight and this morning was perfect, crisp, clear, snowy, just right for delaying the usual pre dawn tramp around the Bonsai Mountain with a large number of Bernese Mountain Dogs until it was light enough to see the lovely views. This is the Ghost House, (don't look back!) and its not just me that thought there was a face in the upstairs window in this picture!

 At least that was the plan. I set out in the gloom of first light and headed off uphill. Black shapes raced past me, back and forth, and it became apparent that I was N+1 relating to the K9 quota. There should have been 5 and one Golden retriever but in the dark I was pretty certain there were more than 5 Berners.

This young man, Bear, should be in the cottage by the rayburn resting his poorly joints, but somehow he managed to mingle with the demi clan and head off up the mountain. He managed to get halfway before detection and so I turned back, thus missing all the good bits of the walk but saving the dozy dogs legs.

Off again

The reason for yesterdays absence was not due to the fantastically high winds that caused a bit of upset by waking WooZah and Bliss when the front of the annex roof blew off, no, we survived that. It was due to a very small Golden Retriever biting through a number of cables just for laughs.
Snows arriving so just for laughs I'm off outside.

Happy days

Heres our lovely Andalusian, Pronto, enjoying a brunch of carrots and apples.

Blown away

It was a bit of a shock on return from a resupply trip to find the phone engineers had been here already and fixed the downed line. This meant we were back in touch with the world for all of 3 nano seconds as the shock of the phone being fixed was nothing in comparison to it actually ringing which led to Bear, the usually sedate Berner, launching himself at Mach speed across the room, away from phone he was casually lying on (don't ask!) and breaking the phone line. New trip to town to buy new internal phone line is planned for the morrow.
Main reason for being in town today was to be Agnesed, which is where a diminutive Scottish Osteopath fixes me so I can carry on hurting myself. Focus of attention today was my diaphragm which for reasons unknown to yours truly keeps cramping. As I was prodded the usual banter changed to an enquiry if the bruising up my right side might be the cause of the cramps. This is where I had to confess to the latest self harm episode where in an effort not to wake my beautiful and oh so patient wife as I went to bed I gallantly decided to do without turning on the bedroom light despite carrying a jug of water and a small cup of milk. As I negotiated the foot of the bed and turned to my side the fact that I had forgotten that I had removed the drawers from my wardrobe and placed them in a stack by my bedside became apparent as I was felled like a tree and landed face down amidst water mild and broken ceramics. Unlike a tree that isn't seen when it falls, me not being seen did not mean I did not make a noise. The sound of me hitting the deck was loud enough to wake the whole household. It was that or the sound of MBAOSPW laughing.
As the cramp had been present prior to fall it was decided that the reason for my bruised and cramping diaphragm was the consequence of the cough I have had.
I told you I was ill.

By contrast...

 Here is Belle, a very well behaved pup before she has a massive needle with a micro-chip tag stuck in her.

Here she is 10 seconds after the microchip insert.
By contrast to the Berners she is a very well behaved pup!