Nuttalls and a Wild Camp in the Berwyns
With another bank holiday weekend on offer and the weather looking good, it was time to head to the hills again to bag some more Nuttalls. I wasn’t working on Friday, so it was a long weekend for me and there was no rush to get started. I headed out for a little mountain bike ride first, then did some shed painting with Morgan and some gardening before packing my bag. It felt as though I’d already done a full day’s worth of activities and chores — but the fun was just about to start.
I’d never really been to the Berwyns before, so I didn’t know what to expect, but I anticipated steep climbs, lots of bog and heather, and very few people. It was about a 90-minute drive with a stop at Spar to grab some lunch. I found a little parking spot not far from my starting point, hefted my rucksack onto my back and set off in the sunshine.
The weather had been warm and sunny for a couple of weeks, and the hills were bathed in green and brown. The hedgerows brimmed with wildflowers and the hawthorn trees were heavy with blossom. A few clouds drifted across an otherwise blue sky. The surroundings looked more like large hills than mountains, but the ridge ahead was clearly where I was heading — Nuttalls are mountains over 2,000 ft, so higher ground was inevitable.
The walk began with a steady climb along a quiet rural road through farmland, past some holiday cabins, before turning right onto a steep track through a couple of farmyards. It was tough going in the heat, but a stiff, cool northerly wind kept things comfortable. I followed the road through a gate and onto an old forestry track, then slogged up a very steep incline that zig-zagged up the hillside. It looked to be heading towards an almost sheer wall at times. Thankfully, I was able to leave this track on the flank of a hill and continue the slog alongside a fence, through heather and bilberry bushes laden with unripe fruit. I was now in the lee of the hill, so out of the cooling wind, and it was hard work.
Eventually, I reached the top — and into a howling wind. I crouched down in the stone shelter at the summit of Mynydd Tarw (679 m), the first Nuttall of the day. I had a drink, checked my route, and confirmed that the small summit of Rhos to the east wasn’t a Nuttall. It wasn’t, so I was soon back on my feet and heading northwest along the ridgetop.
It was a steady, easy walk along a narrow path through heather, bilberry and cottongrass blowing in the wind. I passed a rocky outcrop and hopped over some boggy patches that were actually quite dry after the dry spring we’ve had. Along the way, I ticked off several more Nuttalls and gained height as I went:
- Foel Wen South Top (688 m)
- Foel Wen (691 m)
- Tomle (741 m)
I also summited Bwlch Maen Gwynedd (720 m) — not a Nuttall due to insufficient prominence, but worth a mention.
From there I dropped down a little and traversed across the top of a wide valley, then made a small detour up to Cadair Bronwen (783 m) — Nuttall number five of the day. There were spectacular views out across North Wales and its many mountains, and down to the relatively flat lands of England to the east and south.
After a quick pause, I retraced my steps back down to the saddle, crossing some wooden boardwalks topped with plastic mesh. I passed the earlier junction and continued up the other side towards the Berwyns proper, where more Nuttalls awaited. Craig Berwyn and Craig Berwyn (Boundary) were two subsidiary summits that don’t count as Nuttalls, but they led me along the top of steep drops above a wide valley wall.
Next came the rockier and more dramatic summit of Cadair Berwyn North Top (827 m), followed by the high point of the day: Cadair Berwyn (832 m).
This summit towers above the lake of Llyn Lluncaws — apparently meaning “cheese-shaped lake”. It didn’t look much like cheese to me, but I suppose cheese can be any shape! The little lake was also my planned destination for the day, so I scanned the shoreline for suitable camping spots and hoped the one I’d identified wasn’t too boggy and was reasonably flat.
From the high point, I made a small detour to the final Nuttall of the day, Moel Sych (827 m) — That took me to 11 summits in total today, 8 of them Nuttalls.
All that remained was a steep descent along a somewhat precipitous path to the lake.
My intended campsite turned out to be dry and relatively flat — a relief. However, the northerly wind had been increasing all day and was now blowing strongly through the bowl of the hills. Setting up the tent was a challenge, and it was too cold and windy to sit outside to cook. I ended up cooking inside the tent but sat outside on a rock to eat, wrapped up in all my clothes.
I soon retreated to the relative warmth — or at least the shelter — of my tent. A shame really, because if not for the wind and plummeting temperatures, it would have been lovely to sit outside and watch the skies darken.
The wind didn’t ease overnight and was actually picking up more by breakfast. Temperatures had dropped close to freezing. Rather than hang around, I packed up quickly after eating and was on my way again. As I packed up, thick fog enveloped first the mountain tops, then the bowl I was in.
The plan for today was to climb around 100 metres up to the opposite ridge and follow it gradually downhill, bagging a few more Nuttalls before returning to the valleys and the car.
I climbed through the fog and soon gained the ridge just below Cadair Berwyn. I aimed for two summits along the ridge that weren’t needed — not Nuttalls or even recognised summits on SummitBag — so it wasn’t until I reached Moel yr Ewig (695 m) that I marked anything new. It was nice walking though, and today’s route wasn’t long. The fog began to lift, with patches of blue sky, though the wind still howled.
From there I headed south through thick heather and tougher walking to Moel Poethion (682 m) — despite its height, not a Nuttall either. I retraced my steps back to Moel yr Ewig, then turned right along the ridge to pick off:
- Godor North Top (675 m)
- Godor (679 m)
A small pile of quartz stones marked the final summit. From here, it was a steady descent down towards farmland, then onto tracks and roads back to the car. With three more Nuttalls bagged today, that made 11 Nuttalls in total this outing, bringing my Welsh total to 103.
The drive home was an easy one. Once back, the wind was still blowing a hoolie. Someone messaged to say they were staying in a holiday home just around the corner — here for some windsurfing. Despite camping out overnight, hiking 14 miles, bagging 11 Nuttalls, and driving across Wales and back, I couldn’t resist joining them. Before long I was in my wetsuit and rigging up on the beach for what turned out to be a lovely 20-mile windsurf in perfect conditions: steady wind hitting 30 knots at times, turquoise seas covered in whitecaps, and loads of sunshine. A perfect session.
It felt as though I’d already packed loads in — and it was still only Saturday afternoon. There was plenty of time left in the long weekend for more…
