Solo Wild Camp Among the Arenigs

by Alan Cole · Tuesday, October 14th, 2025

Things seem to have been a little hectic lately, and there doesn’t seem to be much chance of that changing in the near future. But last weekend was, at least, a quiet one. With a good weather forecast, it was also a good chance to get out into the hills and tick off a few more Welsh Nuttalls (mountains above 2,000 ft).

I didn’t fancy heading south for some reason, so instead went just an hour or so northeast of here to the Arenigs. These are mountains I’ve walked before — many years ago, before I had a GPS device to officially log them. I don’t think I visited all of the summits in the area back then either. Actually, I’ve just looked it up: it was in 2007 that I was last here, on a little geocaching trip with Steve. So I did have some sort of GPS with me, but I didn’t record the route — I just used it to find Tupperware in the hills!

Climbing into the Arenigs

This time I was on my own. I drove up with clouds shrouding the hills and parked just off the main road. The forecast was for sunshine, so I was optimistic as I followed easy trails to the foot of the first climb. From here, it was a tough ascent up the steep northwest ridge of Arenig Fawr. I soon disappeared into the mist and murk. The views vanished as the whiteness closed in. I’d seen no one all day; there was no wind, and all was quiet as I headed ever higher. The gradient eased after the initial steepness but continued steadily up along the ridge to the first summit of the day at Moel Llecwedd (817 m) and finally to the summit of Arenig Fawr (854 m). Arenig Fawr was my first Nuttall of the day. I took a quick photo, then moved away from the summit to find a sheltered spot where I got out my stove, boiled some water, and made coffee — accompanied by a couple of Eccles cakes.

I was doing my best to take my time, soak it all in, and not worry about how far or fast I could go. Chilling with a coffee was perfect. Although, shrouded in mist as I was, there wasn’t much to take in — so I simply enjoyed the peace and solitude.

I soon hefted my heavy rucksack back onto my shoulders and set off again. Next was a steady walk over varied terrain to the subsidiary summits of Arenig Fawr South Top (837 m) and Arenig Fawr South Ridge Top (714 m). Both of these class as Nuttalls as well.

All was quiet, and the going was steady over rocky ground interspersed with boggy patches and heather-clad grass. It was surprisingly chilly up here in the clouds.

On to More Nuttalls

Next came a slippery descent out of the mist and another steep climb back up — and back into the clouds — to reach the next Nuttall, Moel Llyfnant (751 m).

Out of the clouds, then back up into them

I dropped from the summit of Moel Llyfnant and, out of the clouds at last, stopped beside a fence for lunch with views into the valley below. I took my time scouting the ground ahead, looking for the spots I’d identified from maps as potential campsites. It was still early, though, so I also started to plan how far I might go beyond them.

Once on my way again, it was an easy descent into the valley. The area I’d marked near Afon Lliw would have been fine for a camp, but it was still early, so I filled up with water and started up the next hill.

This next climb turned into a slog through knee-deep heather with no paths — not even a sheep track to follow. It was the hardest part of the day. Boggy areas were actually a bit of a relief from the energy-sapping heather. Typically, the sun came out just in time to make the climb sweaty. I eventually made it to the ridge and then on to Foel Boeth (615 m), Nuttall number 5 of the day. Now that the sun was out there were at least some views out to the west with Llyn Trawsfynydd seen and the Rhinogs towering behind it.

Looking West to Llyn Trawfynydd and The Rhinogs

I was now on the lookout for possible campsites. First was the summit of Gallt y Darren (619 m), the final Nuttall of the day. There were a few likely looking camps sites as I followed the ridge, gradually descending and picking off the smaller summits of Moel yr Wden (572 m)
and Moel y Slates (557 m). Although there were suitable camping spots, there was no water up here, so I continued on.

I left the paths behind again and trudged through more hard-going tussocky ground. There was nowhere decent to camp. I crossed a couple of small streams and kept slogging on. My next target was the confluence of several small streams that, on the map, looked as though it might offer a campsite. As I approached, things didn’t look promising — just tussocks and bogs, but there were nice views of Arenig Fawr with a crown of clouds. It wasn’t long ago that I’d been up there.

A Bed for the Night

Just as I was starting to feel tired, I spotted a small area perched above a pool between two little gorges. It looked flat and not too boggy. Perfect. The grass was quite long, but that was fine. I soon had the tent pitched, washed my feet in the pool, and filled up my water (actually in the opposite order!).

Dinner was soon on — pasta bolognese followed by more Eccles cakes. A chilled evening followed. I’d seen no one all day, bagged 6 Nuttalls, covered 11 miles, and my sore Achilles was only a little sore. There was no wind, clear skies, and falling temperatures, so I was under my quilt relatively early and soon snoozing.

More Morning Mist and Murk – Mmmm

I had quite a good night. Obviously, I didn’t sleep straight through, but I didn’t need to get up, and I even managed to relax properly in the morning. What I hadn’t expected, once sunrise came, was to be completely shrouded in thick mist again.

I’d expected the clear skies to last and the sunshine the forecast had promised. Not so. Sunrise came and went with no sign of the sun. I waited as long as I could, had a really relaxed breakfast, and finally set off around 10:30 am. I’d hoped the mist would clear and dry my tent, but with no chance of that, I packed it away wet and headed the 2.5 miles along the river to the road and back to the car. Where cobwebs dripping with dew lined my way.

Today’s walk was a short, easy one. All downhill with no summits in sight — the perfect way to finish off a chilled expedition.

I stopped for lunch on the way home and arrived back to wind and sunshine — ideal conditions to dry my tent in the garden.

I think I did quite well at keeping things relaxed and easy while still bagging a few Nuttalls and exploring new areas. 124 bagged, 65 to go. Where next?

As I drove home, I felt quietly content. Nothing dramatic had happened — no summit views, no epic mileage — but maybe that was the point. It was enough just to move steadily through the landscape, to notice the textures of heather and bog, to sit with a coffee in the mist and let the world slow down.