Back to where it all began – Mynydd Llangorse and Mynydd Troed, Black Mountains

Our New Year weather luck seemed to be holding and we had a reasonable forecast for the 30th so we planned another day out with me, GM and D while TBF and L stayed at home. We pored over the maps of the local hills and GM picked out Mynydd Llangorse and Mynydd Troed as being off the beaten track and therefore worth a visit. We picked a route to combine both with a round of Cwm Sorgwm. The plan was set, the sandwiches made (more turkey) and we were off.

The effects of the wet weather were immediately apparent. The stile from the road onto the fields was a running stream that gave an interesting little start to the day.

“Now I like paths, but I also like streams. But which one is best? There’s only one way to find out…”

Mynydd Llangorse lower slopes

We were heading up to the path that skirts the eastern slopes of Mynydd Llangorse to pick up the south ridge. It started promisingly as it weaved amongst the bracken and then promptly vanished. It was an easy decision from there, a mile or so of traversing through deep bracken and brambles or straight up to the top? Straight up it was, D was completely thrown by the steepness and the battle through the undergrowth.

Welcome to the jungle

A breather and a drink

I just told him this was all part of the mountain experience. It was only a few hundred feet in reality and soon over.

Nearly over

A face that says “are you sure that’s it!”

Once up on the plateau-like summit area of Pen Tir we picked up a succession of sheep tracks that led past a couple of nice tarns onto one of the more substantial paths that criss-cross the fairly vast upland mountain.

Mynydd Troed from Pen Tir

Tarn on Pen Tir

I walked up the northern part of the mountain several years ago but don’t have fond memory of it. I think I picked a poor route down through deep heather and I was carrying L on my back. Today the broad green paths made for great walking in the strong winds. We stopped for a snack by a natural spring and took a drink from the fresh clear waters which excited D immensely.

Fresh Water

The top can be one of several spots depending on your inclination and we pressed on for a sheltered spot for lunch. We found a perfect one at the top of the north ridge and took a long look at our second target for the day, Mynydd Troed. From our lunch spot the north ridge (named on the map as Cockit Hill) down to the col was excellent, relatively narrow and airy.

Cockit Hill and Mynydd Troed

Mynydd Llangorse and Cockit Hill

Mynydd Llangorse and Cockit Hill

The climb to the top of Mynydd Troed was exceptionally steep and D was feeling the pace a little as GM left us behind. The wind was ferocious as we arrived on the top for an interesting father and son moment. Mynydd Troed was my very first mountain back in 1977 when I was a mere 10 years old and this was my first time back. 35 years on it was nice for D to be able to share this little private reverie of mine.

Father and Son on Mynydd Troed

Not the kind of weather to be hanging around so we pressed on down the summit ridge, a really pleasant high level stroll and completely deserted. The skies were darkening, no doubt the poor weather forecast for New Years Eve on it’s way.

D and GM on Mynydd Troed

GM descends Mynydd Troed

We found a succession of thin paths down through the bracken on the south slopes to reach the access path. D was relieved as he had no wish to descend a similar slope to the one we’d climbed in the morning – to be honest neither was I! A simple stroll back down the lane and main road completed a fine day. Like a few routes I’ve discovered it doesn’t seem to appear in any guidebooks but other than a little road walking (and some bracken bashing) it’s an excellent route

At the end of the day

A trip back to where it all began for me. Back in 1977, it was a truly atrocious day from what I recall, heavy rain and no views. The summit moments were enlivened by my teachers assertion that it was a volcano and the slight depression in which sits the summit cairn was it’s crater – needless to say we all believed him. Teachers eh! We spent the rest of the day in a tent in Talgarth, soaked through. I absolutely loved it. Funny to think that mountain climbing would be at the core of my life since then and that 35 years on I’d be standing on the same summit reliving the memory with my son. I hope he keeps his enthusiasm and that perhaps he too will return to the summit here with his own kids and pass the story on.