On Friday 23rd May we assembled at College, ready for kit checks, possibly the most tedious part of the expedition. You spend hours at home trying to get everything to fit snugly inside your bag, to make sure that nothing digs into your back or that you haven’t forgotten anything, going over the checklist again and again, scanning for any minor detail that may have been missed.
Then when you arrive at College, every single bag has to be emptied again just to make sure a pair of spare laces are in the right pocket, or that your survival bag is in pristine condition. It has to be the best way ever invented to bore you to death in half an hour. Although, of course, everyone recognised that the next few days would be anything but boring!
So, whilst sitting around for a couple of hours at College, doing mostly nothing, interspersed with erratic games of ‘Frisbee’, the weather began to break around us, the horizons began to darken, clouds blotted out the sun and a guttural rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. Was this prophetic – or a false alarm?
We trekked from the playing fields up to the front of the College ready to shelter from the breaking storm. The air was electric with anticipation - of course this could have been attributed to the thunder storm, but I like to think not. As we were waiting for the coach to arrive the heavens opened and it began to pour with rain; it was almost unbelievable, we already needed waterproofs and we weren’t even in Wales. What would we need there? Wetsuits perhaps?
After a largely uneventful coach ride we arrived at base camp, an unprepossessing little village hall situated in a totally unpronounceable Welsh village nestling in the heart of dragon country. The weather was dull, wet and gloomy and so there was more than one of us who was glad not to have to put tents up; although with so many of us cramped in such a small space it soon felt like an oven rather than a hall.
Day 1
Getting up at 5:30 am probably made us one of the least popular groups with the supervisors, who apparently had already only had around ‘half an hours’ sleep due to Keith’s snoring, which they dubbed – ‘the snore’.
After a hearty breakfast of stodgy porridge we were ready to leave at about 6:30, and being only the second group to leave, when we’re normally last, pleased us a lot. It should probably be mentioned here that D of E expeditions are not a race, there is never any feeling of competitiveness whatsoever…unless perhaps you’re Keith.
With just under 30Km to walk that day we figured it would work in our favour to get up early, perhaps then we’d get to camp before dark! That morning we walked what seemed, at the time, an awfully long way up a narrow river valley - which made a pleasant change to the normal expeditions. There was an abundance of birds and (unusually) sunlight as well. It was nice and warm in the valley and made for easy walking then, the path vanished completely and we found ourselves to be following what seemed to be a sheep trail for mile upon mile until, eventually, we found the track we were supposed to be on. By now we’d left the valley and it was getting windier; however we were still low down and it wasn’t unpleasant.
At about 10:00am we stopped for a few minutes for some lunch before moving on again. After a while, a member of our group, Max, realised that he’d left his hat at the river crossing where we’d stopped. We’d already climbed about 60m in vertical height and had travelled about a kilometre but still Max decided to fetch the hat. Whilst the rest of us sat there for what felt like an age, grumbling and cursing Max and his hat he finally reappeared and we set off once more. On meeting Keith at the next check point we were informed of a small route change - “because the weather’s nice”. Essentially we only had to traverse another hill and reach the trig-point on top before a leisurely walk back down to camp. It would only be about 15Km and a few extra hills. Great.
When we reached the base of the hill with the trig-point after blistering heat, scorching winds and far too many sheep droppings, we met Rodney near the trig point and begged not to have to climb the last 50m to the top. After he relented, we got to leave our bags at the base and walk up without them. It was something of an achievement and it did make you feel good, but it was marred a bit by the wind. Once we had descended the hill and crossed a main road we only had another 8km to go and it was all road work along a tarmac track. Although simple, road walking isn’t easy. It's both tiring and painful. Mile after mile on tarmac with only bleak hedges to take your attention away from the road.
When we reached our second camp, despite it being a sheep-filled field with only a tap and a hole for a toilet, we were elated. Elated enough to fall flat on the floor and do absolutely nothing (carefully avoiding the sheep droippings). After a de-brief that evening we were all informed that we weren’t allowed to get up before 6:00am, despite there being an abundance of tent to pack away. That night despite being mentally and physically exhausted, it was hard to sleep because of the racket the sheep made, all night long. Baaa…
Day 2
Upon waking the second morning at 6:00am we realised that it was spitting with rain, not too bad but we still needed to cook and pack before getting the tent down - and tents become very heavy when wet! Ironically, had we woken up at 5:00am we would have missed the rain…
That morning we set off along the road to find the footpath up onto the hill, which looked worryingly ominous, draped with swathes of fog and cloud, although it didn’t seem to be too windy. As we started climbing up the foot-path we travelled past a house and met a nice man who promptly tried to tell us to go in the wrong direction, even though we insisted that we knew where we were going. However, the most peculiar thing was that he was dressed in a dressing gown with bare feet walking around his garden at 8:00am. If any one tries to tell you which way to go never, ever trust them, they’re usually wrong. At this point one of the members of our group decided that he couldn’t go any further as he had pulled a muscle in his leg the day before on the road and it hadn’t eased. We decided that it would be best if I ran back to the camp to ask Keith to pick him up whilst everyone carried on and I could then meet them at the top of the hill, or later on the route. In retrospect this turned out to be a bad decision.
As I was left to travel with Andy this meant that I was left in a position where I knew pretty much what was going on during what turned out to be the most eventful day of the expedition, although it would have been more enjoyable if I had been with my group.
Andy informed us that we were to try and make our way up to the obelisk on the summit of the hill where I would rejoin my group. So we met up with Hilary and set off. Once we had walked about two thirds up the hill it became clear that it was a lot worse on the top than it was at the bottom, with gale force winds and lashing rain. It was impossible to stand up the further you went. Andy decided to try and make contact with the second year helpers to try and get them off the hill along with the groups and to inform Keith as well, although due to the extreme conditions it seemed to make it quite hard to communicate. Although it took an awfully long time, Andy discovered that Group 1 had made it to the top of the hill and then had travelled straight down instead of along the ridge, Groups 2 and 4 had done the same and then Groups 3 (my group) and 5 were missing on the hill. It was about this time that Emily from group 3 rang through to Hilary and informed us that they were lost on top of the hill in winds of around 80mph and visibility down to a few metres. Hilary ordered them to pitch a tent in a hollow and to sit where they were until told otherwise. By this time I was wishing that I was in a tent packed with hot water bottles; rain is one thing waterproofs can cope with, but wind can easily pass through all but the best of clothes.
It was weird coming back down the hill that morning, passing all of the Sunday ‘fine weather’ walkers ascending in jeans and trainers with no rucksacks and some even had dogs. No matter how many people Andy warned they all carried on up. The ones who stopped to consider his words were, not surprisingly, those who were the best equipped with water proofs. Walkers wearing jeans aren’t really walkers at all.
We met up with the other members of the Duke of Edinburgh expedition in a lay-by on the main road. Group 3 was still missing and it was discovered Group 5 had actually gone back to the first campsite, which worked out well as every-one knew exactly where they were.
At this point I was taken to the campsite for that night with some of the second years where I met up with Rich, who’d pulled a muscle in his leg. We were lucky to have such a good campsite that night, where there was a much-needed tumble dryer, showers and an old lambing shed for us to shelter in. Nothing feels better than having a nice warm shower when you’ve been cold all day. I was wearing six layers and only the very bottom one was remotely dry. Rich and I were then offered to sit in one of the second year’s cars which was extremely kind. About 3 hours later we were informed that the members of our group had managed to scramble off the hills and were waiting to be picked up, so we decided to cook them some pasta in the barn for when they got back. We slightly misjudged the time and ended up eating the first lot before they got back. When you’re freezing cold any food smells delicious, especially pasta, so really there was no hope for it. However the second lot was cooked just in time for when they got back.
Nothing much else happened that evening, apart from sitting next to the tumble dryer for hours and hours.
Day 3
When we eventually woke up it was because the tent was flapping around madly where the pegs had not held due to the wind. I jumped out of my sleeping bag (quite a feat I assure you), to get to the tumble dryer first. Once I had some dry trousers to wear, we set about taking down the tent in the wind, while I sat inside it for ballast, grimly trying to force down stodgy porridge.
It wasn’t supposed to be a bad walking day as we weren’t going up that high, so we set off in high spirits. After about 1/2km, we were overtaken by Group 1 as usual, but we still felt that today was going to go well, which probably had something to do with the dry clothes we were wearing.
By the time we had reached the moor-top and were struggling against wind, bog and rain, spirits were somewhat lower than previously, and we battled on towards our destination – the tree line in the far distance. Once we had made the trees we circumnavigated the edge of the plantation, elated to be out of the wind, until Emily put her foot in a bog - which caused some amusement. The rest of the group was informed not to follow the path as it was ‘a bit soft’. Max cleverly jumped to the side of the path and landed in the middle of a larger bog.
After crossing our second part of moor land we were once again overtaken by Group 1 (It transpired that they had taken a wrong turn earlier in the day and had got lost.) It was true that earlier in the day when faced with a split in the paths we were unsure which way to take as there were footprints down both routes. We were relieved to have chosen the right path.
Then came the most confusing part of the day, where we had to walk down through some forest before trying to locate a disused railway to follow. We’re always told that its hardest to stay on track when there is no path, but when you’re trying to get to a certain place, it’s a lot easier to get lost when there are loads of paths, and simply too much choice. We had travelled a short way when Group 1 overtook us once more, after having taken the wrong path again.
We managed to drag ourselves back to camp at an astonishing 3 o’clock, which was brilliant, especially since during the last expedition didn’t tend to get back till around 6:30 most evenings. We then retired to our tents for the rest of the day, inside sleeping bags whilst playing cards. We were all so exhausted (and also too warm to get up) that we even cooked inside the tent! When Andy decided to give us the customary de-brief that evening none of us were pleased, so we just sat inside our tents while Andy shouted that the next day we would not be taking the high mountainous route but would be following the canal all the way to Brecon, dead flat all of the way, a welcome bit of information to end an exhausting day.
Day 4
We set off in earnest this morning, keen to get to Brecon as soon as possible. It was a pleasant walk along the canal, there was an abundance of ducks and a rather dim heron, who each time it saw us coming round a bend in the canal flew on about 100m and sat there until we got closer again. The weather was dull and it drizzled for most of the morning, nevertheless it was still fairly bright and the sun pushed through the cloying cloud cover once or twice during the day. We made good time and didn’t stop at all till about 11 o’clock (we’d started at 7:30). Once we reached Brecon and the Canal had ended, we had to walk through the main ‘high’ street of Brecon - Keith had persuaded us to stop and buy cakes, and not only that but to have a browse in one of the outdoor-wear shops, whilst carrying massive packs, half asleep and smelling none-too-sweet!
We eventually managed to find our way out of Brecon after giving the locals something to chat about, then we had to travel another few kilometres before meeting up with the footpath and the last leg of the journey. Unfortunately before we joined up with the footpath, I pulled a muscle in my ankle and so couldn’t walk any further. I was picked up by ‘heroic’ Keith and sat in the minibus for the last couple of miles. There’s nothing worse than having to drop out of an expedition, even if it is because you can’t walk. While my group carried on, Keith informed me that we would wait and watch for the rest of the groups (we were second so there were still three more groups to pass by). However after about a hour of waiting only one group had passed us. It turned out that two of the groups had decided to go a different way (which was easier…). Keith encouraged the last group and told them we would meet them further on.
When we next saw Group 5, it was to take them the last leg of the journey as they weren’t able to finish the walk and so had to come in the minibus with Keith and me. When we met up with everyone else at the mountain centre, it was for the last time and we headed for home, thoroughly exhausted. The coach ride was certainly quiet, everyone was glad to be going home at last, even if it had been a worthwhile experience.
Everyone enjoyed the Expedition, although it was challenging and physically exhausting. However one thing is pretty certain - we couldn’t have made it without all the help and guidance in class and out on the hills from everyone who ‘helped’… So we’d like to take this opportunity to thank them all… Thanks.Take a look at the expedition photo album by clicking this link. http://www.review.hereford.ac.uk/albums/2008/04/14/the_duke_of_edinburgh_award_easter_2008
