Thursday, June 7, 2012

Scaling the Snowdon, taming the beast


The lovely snow capped mountain was staring at me quite audaciously. It was teasing me to come and experience it up, close and personal. I was in two minds—should I, should I not?? That it was a training ground for legends like Edmund Hillary was not lost to me. And there was that mind boggling number—1,085 meter high. It makes Snowdon mountain range in Wales the highest range in the area. It wasn’t a mere tease but flirting with danger for lazy city dwellers like me. So again the question remained—Should I, Should I not??




The husband prodded. I rolled up my sleeves, let out a small sigh and decided it was time to man up. And off we went. We gingerly started our trek on this Alpine topography. The path we chose was easy but still less used because the mountains can be a bit tricky with snow. Perhaps, it was this prospect of danger that kept us going. That the only way is up and if we falter…....well we did not. With each passing stretch the lovely village of Snowdon seemed like a mere dot. The landscape of bluish-white Mountains was beautifully broken by glistening, icy lakes and the mountain train which takes you through the range.




Snowdonia has its fair share of legends. Its Welsh name Yr Wyddfa means burial place and legend has it that the cairn at the top is the grave of Rhita Fawr a particularly fierce giant who had a cloak made out of the beards of all the kings he'd killed. Listening to these stories, we kept with our pace. As you go closer, the gentle U of the Snowdon Mountains stare right at you, the “U” was formed because of glaciers that were in the area some 18,000 years ago.



After about five hours we reached the peak, which was perpetually playing hide and seek, despite reaching the top of the mountain. The snowy wind was billowing with full thrust. It’s only with lot of willpower you try to move up to reach the peak. Finally, we reached the peak. And it was like experiencing God, the wind doesn’t kiss here it bites you. You reach top and you feel very humbled. There’s a reason why it’s lonely at the top because no man or beast is quite strong enough for nature. If the peaks decided to unleash its fury; only the unseen God can save you. But then the view, the calmness of mind, the agony of the untrained muscle is worth all the efforts.


Mountains are not to be underestimated. If going up is challenging, coming down is equally is tricky. With each step I gingerly took I felt the snow melting right under my feet, the surface stirring me a bit. It was demanding every ounce of attention. Meditation! We reach down in about two hours passing through hordes of pretty little yellow flowers and school of sheep munching away oblivious to anything.



When you reach down, it’s a moment of realization--that  Earth can really hold you down.
It’s strangely calming.

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