Friday, I took a five-hour train ride to Bangor, where I spent the night in a Cantonese hotel called The Garden. The hotel was the home-iest place I've staid in a long time; not only was the room cozy, but the staff were interested in what brought me there.Saturday morning, I awoke at 7 a.m. and was on a bus to Llanberis by 8:50.
There was a middle-aged man with a weather-beaten face wearing hiking boots and carrying walking sticks. We chatted about Snowdon; he'd climbed that mountain 30 times, he said, and today looked as if it could be the most promising day in years to go hiking."You could come here a hundred times, but never have a day like today," he told me, which got me tremendously excited.
I asked him which trail to start on, and he confirmed my decision to hike up the PYG trail that started at Pen-y-Pass.
The trail was not what I expected. There was a lot of rock climbing, which I would have loved except for three factors: there was a thick layer of ice over all the rocks, I was alone, and I was wearing tennies (what the Brits call trainers).
I started the hike around 11, and by 12 I had reached an easier stretch. To my left, the sun radiated over a small peak and beamed into a lake, in which gray clouds swirled. I didn't see a single human being for that hour. 
Soon, however, the terrain got rocky again and the trail was almost impossible to find. At one point, I lost track of it all together and began following a lone set of footprints down the mountain. I ran into a couple hiking, and the lady told me I'd come to the Miner's Track. To get back to PYG, I had to climb back up the side of the mountain.
Does anyone else see the face in the mountain/lake? Mouth in the water, nose just above, with two eyes squinting? I kind of thought of this as the spirit of the mountain, so to speak.Once I was back on track, I ran into the man who directed me to PYG.
"It gets treacherous," he said, eyeing my footwear with concern.
I thanked him and headed on my way.
He was not kidding, however; within half an hour, I reached a waterfall of ice, which I had to climb to get onto the trail. Luckily for me, about ten hikers were passing at that exact moment, and they waited around to make sure I made it up alright.
There were more icy slopes, and more friendly hikers.
"Are you here alone?" asked one group. When I affirmed this, one young man said, "God, you're awfully brave."
At another point, a hiker tried to discourage me.
"It is all ice up there. It's very dangerous." He paused, I smiled. "You're determined, aren't you?"
"Of course!" I said, thinking of the five years I've been itching to reach this mountain's summit.
"Well... It gets a lot worse. The next one hundred meters are the worst, but you're getting close to the top."
At 2 p.m., amazed that I was still alive, I arrived at the peak. Several groups of hikers who'd passed me congratulated me, then told me I'd better take the Railway Track -also known as Llanberis Track- back down.
In all my PYG track hiking, I probably passed 60 climbers- two of whom were female, neither of whom were alone. In fact, there were only two lone hikers, one of whom was the man who'd directed me to the PYG track.
At the summit, I met an older lone woman, who stopped to chat with me. She told me she'd passed someone being careflighted off the Miner's Track, and that I was very lucky.
I have never felt so accomplished as when I stood on that summit; alone, in improper gear and winter's treacherous weather, I made it.
Someone pointed out the tip of Ireland to me. In fact, the whole of the U.K. was at my fingertips.
The hike down was long and slow, and it began to get dark.
The bus from Llanberis to Bangor was late, and I nearly missed my train to Shrewsbury- except that the train got canceled anyway.
A lady at the train station said a steam engine had gone *caput* and messed up the whole train system. She told me I couldn't take the next train to Crewe, but that if I waited for two hours and caught the last Shrewsbury train, she'd ensure I got home.
Sure enough, after a two-hour ride with the least respectful, most annoying drunk teenagers I have ever seen, I was sitting in a taxi with a very kind lady who drove me two and half hours home to Cardiff.
We arrived at 2:15, in the middle of a chaotic drunken street party (thanks to a rugby match). Two men flew like chickens at each other, landing on our taxi. Numerous people swayed in and out of the middle of the road. The whole thing was like Athens on coke- bigger, more belligerent, ten-fold as dangerous and ridiculous.
Needless to say, I crawled into bed at 3 a.m. and went straight from sleep to a hot bath, which did nothing to relieve the pain in every muscle of my body.
But it was worth it.
I realized that everything else can be unreliable: people, weather, buses, trains, descriptions of trails... but the one thing I can always count on is my own resilience.
I made it to the top of Snowdon and lived to tell the tale.
"It gets treacherous," he said, eyeing my footwear with concern.
I thanked him and headed on my way.
He was not kidding, however; within half an hour, I reached a waterfall of ice, which I had to climb to get onto the trail. Luckily for me, about ten hikers were passing at that exact moment, and they waited around to make sure I made it up alright.
There were more icy slopes, and more friendly hikers."Are you here alone?" asked one group. When I affirmed this, one young man said, "God, you're awfully brave."
At another point, a hiker tried to discourage me.
"It is all ice up there. It's very dangerous." He paused, I smiled. "You're determined, aren't you?"
"Of course!" I said, thinking of the five years I've been itching to reach this mountain's summit.
"Well... It gets a lot worse. The next one hundred meters are the worst, but you're getting close to the top."
At 2 p.m., amazed that I was still alive, I arrived at the peak. Several groups of hikers who'd passed me congratulated me, then told me I'd better take the Railway Track -also known as Llanberis Track- back down. In all my PYG track hiking, I probably passed 60 climbers- two of whom were female, neither of whom were alone. In fact, there were only two lone hikers, one of whom was the man who'd directed me to the PYG track.At the summit, I met an older lone woman, who stopped to chat with me. She told me she'd passed someone being careflighted off the Miner's Track, and that I was very lucky.
I have never felt so accomplished as when I stood on that summit; alone, in improper gear and winter's treacherous weather, I made it.
Someone pointed out the tip of Ireland to me. In fact, the whole of the U.K. was at my fingertips.
The hike down was long and slow, and it began to get dark.
The bus from Llanberis to Bangor was late, and I nearly missed my train to Shrewsbury- except that the train got canceled anyway.A lady at the train station said a steam engine had gone *caput* and messed up the whole train system. She told me I couldn't take the next train to Crewe, but that if I waited for two hours and caught the last Shrewsbury train, she'd ensure I got home.
Sure enough, after a two-hour ride with the least respectful, most annoying drunk teenagers I have ever seen, I was sitting in a taxi with a very kind lady who drove me two and half hours home to Cardiff.
We arrived at 2:15, in the middle of a chaotic drunken street party (thanks to a rugby match). Two men flew like chickens at each other, landing on our taxi. Numerous people swayed in and out of the middle of the road. The whole thing was like Athens on coke- bigger, more belligerent, ten-fold as dangerous and ridiculous.
Needless to say, I crawled into bed at 3 a.m. and went straight from sleep to a hot bath, which did nothing to relieve the pain in every muscle of my body.
But it was worth it.
I realized that everything else can be unreliable: people, weather, buses, trains, descriptions of trails... but the one thing I can always count on is my own resilience.
I made it to the top of Snowdon and lived to tell the tale. 
1 comment:
Congratulations! I mean it! I'm so glad one of us got to climb our mountain. I'm also incredibly jealous of you. I'm glad that you had a good time and made it up and down safely. I hope to see you soon,
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