Scenes from a quite extraordinary day spent on Snowdon.
I expected parking chaos so i left home at 6am and saw no other vehicles heading my way until i was past Betws-y-Coed.
I crossed the Crib Goch arete to the summit of Snowdon, and then, noting how much many of the other paths were starting to fill with walkers, i opted to traverse back along the arete. The sugar snow which had proved fine on ascent from the Pyg track proved “quite entertaining” in places on the way back.

The UK media is full to the brim at the moment with the death toll on the British mountains this winter. To hell with them all. It is far more risky crossing the road, or dying from inactivity.
Get up, get out, get some proper equipment, and some tuition, and or a guide if necessary. Respect the mountains and they will repay you with memory banks of images and experiences that you can draw on for years to come.

Two pints of tea in Pete’s Eats and then it was the inevitable drive home in Bank Holiday traffic. That bit is erased from the memory banks.

“My father considered a walk in the mountains as the equivalent of church going” – Aldous Huxley

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