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Day 12
The rain was still beating on the roof in the morning. I tuned in to the weather forecast and heard Suzanne Charlton say that this 'light rain' would be replaced by brighter weather followed by heavy rain in the evening. Hence I set off early and optimistically. I had map 147 ready for posting in Cwmystwyth but thought that I had nearly ruined it there just putting it into the envelope. Fortunately it was only the cover which got wet. I was glad to have kept this one in good condition because the copy we had at home had virtually disintegrated after a backpack which Rowland had done in this area.
There was no problem in reaching the trig point on Pen y Garn despite the mist and rain. Last time I climbed this hill, as a peak in Bridge's tables, it had a different name, Bryn Garw. Getting off to the north was a different matter. I was confronted with a maze of barbed wire fences followed by featureless bog and finally forest. There is no 'approved' route to Eisteddfa Gurig nor yet a pleasant one I suspect and the thick mist and driving rain made the journey particularly confusing and unpleasant. By the time I got there I was soaked to the skin from head to toe.
The rain showed no sign of abating. I had read somewhere that this place was a cafe and offered B&B so I decided that I would have lunch there and perhaps ask for a bed if the weather showed no sign of improvement. However there was no sign of a cafe although it was offering B&B. Some motorists were knocking on the door and obviously getting no response. I thought 'this is fate - I must continue over Pumlumon'.
Y Garn had to be climbed first and I nearly went astray by following the PUMLUMON sign out of the farmyard. I dumped the rucksack at the fence junction but, oddly enough, instead of flying up the ridge without it, I could hardly move. My back ached. It must have got used to its load. At last I got going and after three false tops the big summit cairn loomed out of the mist. There was a fence to follow all the way and in the other direction it led to the unmistakeable highest summit, Pumlumon Fawr, with its enormous cairn and trig point.
Now the navigation problems began as I had to locate the north-west ridge and descend it past one bump to the outlying top Pumlumon Fach. At first I saw no rising ground ahead but then the first top appeared and I could vaguely make out another beyond and the skirting path which went to it direct. As I arrived at the small cairn which marks this insignificant summit the mist suddenly cleared, beautiful confirmation that I was in the right place. I could see Nant-y-moch Reservoir below and quickly took my one picture of the day.
The mist remained on the higher tops and sadly I had to climb back into it and commence compass navigation again to Pen Pumlumon Llygad-Bychan, a top which would not have been at all obvious in the mist without the Nuttalls' detailed description of its cairn and boundary stone. Pen Pumlumon Arwstli on the other hand was easy to find since it has a significant reascent and two enormous cairns.
I had intended to descend west to find a campsite but a very strong west wind had blown up although the rain had all but stopped. So instead I descended east and pitched the tent beside the infant Severn just before it entered the forest. I wrote in my log 'I was tired and cold, wet to the skin in fact, but now that I have changed into dry clothes and crawled into the sleeping bag I feel a lot more cheerful. I got the tent pitched just in time to hear Rod McElwee say what a nice day it had been in England and Wales, hence I place little faith in his forecast of a reasonable day tomorrow.'
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