walkers could walk the entire ridge to Capel Curig in a long day. And what a day! A rollicking tramp over a grassy saddle, big enough for a fair, soon leaves the slaty wastes behind. Mynydd Perfedd comes next; a name without a presence. The direct line of advance lies straight ahead, but only the most indolent would ignore the edge path that curls so delectably over the aquamarine of Llyn Marchlyn Mawr to the cone of Elidir Fawr.
Back beneath Perfedd is Bwlch y Brecan, high point of an old packhorse route that used to link Cwm Perfedd and Cwm Dudodyn and is one of three still navigable trails that cross the Glyders. These N highlands, over Foel Goch and Y Garn, are perfect striding country, blessed with helpful tracks and laden with atmosphere. With the exception of Cwm Las and Esgair y Ceunant, the S slopes facing Snowdon lack excitement while the neglected N flanks are full of potential with dramatic views across the neat, green meadows of Nant Ffrancon to Carneddau, Ogwen and the spires of Tryfan.
A rude awakening awaits anyone naïve enough to judge the Glyders on the evidence so far. A sharp drop to a marshy saddle reveals Llyn y Cwn and the head of the Devil’s Kitchen. This is the key to the second ‘low-level’ crossing of the Glyders, up the Devil’s Kitchen from Ogwen, down Cwm Las to the Llanberis Pass. More significantly it heralds a change both of direction and of style. This is the Rubicon; no more grass. The next 2 miles, presaged by a toilsome, near 1000ft slog up to the reigning peak, Glyder Fawr, are scree and boulder-hopping.
This is boulder-hopping on the grandest scale! Scabrous, posturing monoliths and spiky tors weave ghostly apparitions in mist and create a landscape of lunar abandon and wanton desolation. Wastes of boulders and rivers of rocky debris litter the narrow plateau that stretches to Glyder Fach in a highway made for giants.
Like good wine, the walk to Glyder Fach should be savoured gently and lingered over. Above all keep to the edge, for beneath the shattered N escarpment (replete with bulging crags, intimidating cliffs, and torrents of scree) lies the heartland: Llyn Idwal, the Nameless Cwm cupped between Seniors Ridge and Y Gribin, Llyn Ogwen and Llyn Bochlwyd, nestling in the shadow of Bristly Ridge and Tryfan.
To the S a myriad of peaks pierce the sky, but beware the slopes. They may look pretty and innocent, cloaked in a mantle of rich purple heather and dappled with knolls and rocky bluffs, but they are a nightmare – apart from a couple of established paths. The glitter of Llyn Cwmffynnon is one of the biggest snares of all, concealing a squelchy morass of glutinous bog.
Before long the dark citadel of the poetically named Castell y Gwynt (Castle of the Winds) builds up ahead, followed almost at once by the other-worldly piles of Glyder Fach. Here the desolation last witnessed on Glyder Fawr reasserts itself in a second outpouring of elemental power, even more intense than the first. Giant boulders randomly strewn create an impression of chaos, of disorder, of the insignificance of Man. No other top in Wales portrays Nature’s architecture more magnificently, or casts such an overwhelming spell of mountainly grandeur.
The Devil’s Kitchen (GL 8)
E of Glyder Fach the land falls away to a broad spongy saddle where, on a still day, you may see Tryfan reflected in the waters of Llyn y Caseg-fraith. The third of the low-level passages crosses here, the miners’ track from Ogwen to Pen-y-gwryd. Then a resurgence of vitality carries the ridge on to the bald moorland crest of the nameless peak. The passion is finally spent. The broad tongue of turf and heather that surges yet again over Gallt yr Ogof before declining to the wooded vale sheltering Betws-y-coed, is a far cry from the harsh, arid uplands of only an hour before. Gone is the drama of crag and cwm; this is pretty country made for late afternoon sunshine or the cool glow of evening when you can watch the shadows lengthen over the Carneddau and envelope the rocky crown of Siabod.
Glyder Fach
If you were to blindfold me and place me at random on any of the 170-odd peaks in Wales that exceed 2000ft, it would probably take me a little while to discover my whereabouts. Unless it were either of the Glyders that is, for they are unique, incomparable, unlike anywhere else in Wales!
Glyder Fawr and Glyder Fach mean ‘Great Pile’ and ‘Little Pile’ respectively, though there is little to choose between them. Glyder Fach is, if anything, the more rugged peak – a wild, chaotic plateau of gesticulating boulders crowned with two mighty tors. Glyder Fawr is marginally tamer; no less dramatic, yet very different. Its vast stony dome, littered with leafy, spiky quivers of rock, recalls the tor country of the NW Carneddau and has a curious beehive appearance when approached from Glyder Fach. In mist, or moonlight, both tops generate a weird, eerie atmosphere as their huge monoliths pierce the gloom.
To tramp the lofty tableland between these two giants is a unique experience. So let me give you a brief guided tour starting from 659584 which is where the top of Bristly Ridge and the path from Llyn y Caseg-fraith both mount the plateau. A cairned path is just discernible, steering a course on 230° through the rocky debris. It passes N of one massive pile (on the W side of which is the famous cantilever) before skirting N of a second even larger pile which is the (cairnless) top. It becomes difficult here to distinguish the cairns from the all-pervading bouldery waste, so follow the tell-tale sign of eroded, reddish sand until the cairns reassert themselves.
Directly ahead is the rearing citadel of Castell y Gwynt, a dark slabby pyramid of teetering rocks that only lacks distance from its neighbours to be accorded peak status itself. Rock-hounds will enjoy an easy scramble over the top while the path weaves round to the S. At 653582 a large cairn marks the top of the Bwlch y Ddwy Glyder route S (GL5) while the main path swings W to groove through a grassy bank, slightly below the edge, before climbing up to the bare, desiccated scalp of Glyder Fawr and its flaky spires.
The cantilever rock on Glyder Fach (GL 1)
In clear weather it is best to abandon the path immediately after bypassing Castell y Gwynt and walk along the edge for a while. The view back to Castell y Gwynt, flanked by Glyder Fach’s shattered front of buttresses, gullies and terraces, is impressive to say the least! Soon comes a cairn signalling the top of Y Gribin; then Seniors Ridge breaches the skyline while all the time the gaze is fed by a sweeping panorama of Bochlwyd and Idwal, Tryfan and Bristly Ridge, the long sinuous line of the N Glyders and the smooth lines of the Carneddau. With luck you should be able to pick out five of Wales’ most famous valleys or passes: Nantgwynant, Llanberis, Nant Ffrancon, Ogwen, and even a peep of Conway. Only to the S is the tension relieved in the blue haze of endless ranges rolling on and on: Arenigs, Arans, Rhinogs, Cader Idris, Plynlimon…
You should return to the path now. Heavily cairned, it ploughs through jostling scrums of spires and boulders to land you just L of the highest tor of all – the crown of all the Glyders.
Miners’ Track (N) (GL1)
For a track as easily graded as this to cross not only the main spine of the Glyders but also the high-level ridge linking Tryfan to Glyder Fach is truly remarkable.
The men who worked the copper mines in Cwm Dyli from Napoleonic times to the Great War showed extraordinary stamina. They used this same track week in and week out, fair weather and foul, to return to their homes in Bethesda from the bleak stone ‘dwellings’ that housed them during the week on Snowdon’s E slopes.
The track starts nowadays beside the refreshment hut at Ogwen, across the road from a phone box, and quickly leads to twin stiles (they cater for crowds here!) and a bridge. The first 300yd, where it doubles up as the path to Llyn Idwal, are
