29th Feb: Winter Fan y Bagging

Let’s face it, the weather of late has been foul, properly foul to the point that a LOT of us have been struggling in a rut of motivation and ennui to get out AGAIN in the relentless rain and hippopotami mud. How can you get out of the rut? Well we came up with an answer of sort: ROAD TRIP!

Let's go to work!

A handful of us ‘Hookers’ bundled in to a couple of cars and headed off for the 2 hours it takes for some alternate sights, a different challenge and determined that we would embrace the weather, whatever it was, rather than hide under the duvet once more.

Back in January Andy had suggested a winter version of the Brecon run he and Graham have previously organised where we would drive to the foot of Pen y Fan and run the ‘horseshoe’ or thereabouts. Looking at the diary he found a date not clashing with anything and invited all who wanted to come.

Looking back down to the car park.

Since settling on the date and now, every week seems to have brought a new named winter storm of varying degrees of severity in wind and rain and this week was no exception to this rule. We were well aware of the forecast of an incoming storm, Jorge this time, so for the last few days leading-up to the expedition we had paid particular attention to the local forecast with safety paramount and the whole trip was in the balance until lunchtime the day before when it became apparent we would have a big enough weather window in the morning till early afternoon to get around. Even then the forecast was for very strong winds with gale-force gusts and snow beyond 400m elevation: the starting height of the run!

Gathered in the cold rain of the pre-dawn morning air at 6am outside the village community centre, we drove through the beginning of the storm with its torrential rain to park in the deserted car park at the foot of Pen y Fan. As prep we wrapped-up well with the air temperature here at 2º and unlikely to warm-up, that being with us out of the wind!

Setting out onto the walkers path from the car park the climb began in earnest from these first steps. Within 10 minutes the temperature had plunged as we cleared the tree line then crossed the limit where water becomes ice. My right calf was already giving me grief from the strain I picked-up a few weeks back and I was beginning to drift off the group of the others.

The calf wasn’t the only thing concerning me. Already I couldn’t feel the last 2 fingers on both hands with the extreme cold in the wind, so as I trudged I rummaged in my pack for my second pair of gloves and put them on. Slowly the sensation of feeling began to return to them over the next 10 minutes.

As we ascended, the more the weather closed-in on us, reaching the first peak of the day at Corn Du we were being properly buffeted by gusts of wind approaching gale force. Balance was at a premium with how icy everything was underfoot. Having good grippy trail shoes for running over mud and snow are absolutely useless for traction over icy rock, so scrambling up this small section of rocky outcrop to the plateau as large flakes of snow whipped past you was tricky.

When we hit the cairn at the top we were having the snow driven towards us horizontally in near blizzard conditions and a decision on a route was made, changing an initial idea I had had of running down the ridge over Bryn Ten before turning for the path back up to Fan y Big as with the wind direction it would have meant a long 2 mile slog upwards directly into the teeth of it, which would be no fun for anyone!

 
Once across to the summit of Pen y Fan you have the runnable short sharp drops and climbs as you can move from peak to peak and by the time we had worked our way round to Fan y Big the weather broke and we had vindication in our decision to come here for the run as the views opened-up and we could see for miles around under clear blue skies.

The route we had decided to run was based on the infamous ’horseshoe ridge’ walk, but doing it as a loop starting at the base of the horseshoe, so we needed to link the bottom of the east and west sides of it by running down from the summits to the valley bottom, across the reservoir in the middle and back up to the top on the western arm.

From Fan y Big we began our descent to the valley, wending our way over Torpantau and the field of babies heads till we skirted Taf Fechan Forest. This run was energy sapping as you tried to bounce from one to the other in total guess-work as to what your foot was landing on. The gaps between them were essentially bog, freezing bog running with water. Every time you missed a head, or slipped off one you splashed your foot down in to them. Every step was a fresh full foot immersion into the freezing bath and maximum discomfort as you could not get your feet warm from the continual soakings.

 
Eventually we cleared the field of babies heads and descended into the bottom of the valley hitting the reservoir where we had a bit of an unwelcome surprise: building works. Unfortunately all the paths across the reservoir that you would normally take were closed with metal fencing around them whilst they seem to be either removing or re-building one of the smaller holding dam sections where in the past we have managed to cross.

Descending from the sub-zero chill on the top it made you appreciate the difference in temperature when you were no longer exposed to the elements, as once on the valley floor it felt positively balmy and our hats and gloves were temporarily removed. Under the clear skies you could think it was summer except for the frosted tips of the snowy ridge. Seeing this though made us realise we were about to climb back up on to the top and confront the wind head-on as the storm-front moved in.

Not wanting to detour for a couple of miles we decided to venture towards the main dam and see if we could access it to walk across to the other side. Unfortunately this was not possible as they have it well secured with anti climb fencing, so we had to think again.

Our option was to drop down to the overspill at the bottom of the dam. Here the flow of the water was a bit too feisty to attempt a crossing without a large risk of being swept off our feet, so after a quick sandwich we followed the river down stream to where we could find a manageable crossing point and a thigh-deep wade across.

Fording.

Crossing the river meant we were now on the way up to the other side of the horseshoe and very soon we were beyond the trees and exposed to the blast of the wind and the snow once more as we ascended to the ridge. Running this western ridge we had the problem of the stiffening gusts of wind trying to push us off the edge which focused our attention as we had a grand-stand view of the dark grey of Jorge on the horizon looming larger.

This last couple of miles on the top were a steady ascent but runable although it required a great deal of concentration with the wind catching you off-balance and the loose rocky path interspersed with icy mud and puddles. At times when you could it made sense to be as far across to the left hand side as you could to mitigate against the force of the incoming winds until we had finished our ‘loop’.

On our run we had had the luxury of the route all to ourselves except when we joined back on to the main path to and from the summit for the descent to the car park. We now had the pleasure of running downhill like salmon against the tide of people walking to the top of Pen y Fan, staring into their pained faces as they struggled upwards whilst we bounded down, the snow beginning to be whipped-in as the sky bruised noticeably.

Back in the car park having chalked-off 13 miles including a vertical mile of cumulative climb and the same in descent, what could we do to mark our exploits? Spaniel had the answer and rummaged in his bag in the boot of the car and pulled-out some cheese, crackers and a mini bottle of wine for us all to toast our efforts in style: a grand day out and not a pair of the wrong trousers in sight - ok well maybe one as Graham was the only one to opt for leggings on the run!.. That said with my hamstrings like blocks of ice on the initial limb as I was blasted by the wind and whipped by the snow I could appreciate his logic in choosing a full leg covering.

I can now say I’ve been up and down the horse-shoe in both summer and winter seasons. Both were absolutely stunning, although there was more running to be done in the summer with the lack of ice underfoot speeding things up. I’ll definitely be back, either as a group or by myself as there’s still plenty of routes up and down and around the horseshoe for me to explore!

Oh and I properly killed-off my trainers on the run. I knew they were near the end of their life, but the battering of the babies heads well and truly finished them off!

Totally totaled!

 


Eat pies.
Drink beer.
Run far.