I'm about half way through climbing the Welsh 3,000 footers claiming seven of the sixteen summits, or fifteen if Crib Goch isn't included. I won't be travesering Crib Goch or at least I don't have any plans to do so. This airy arete falls on the wrong side of my comfort zone, or at least I think it does.

I'm in no rush to complete this personal goal, and many times I have returned to the Glyderau to walk similar routes purely out of fondess.  One particular area that I hadn't climbed was the Carneddau range, which includes seven 3,000 footers three of which will be collected in today's walk, Pen yr Ole Wen, Carnedd Dafyyd, and Carnedd Llywelyn. I could have included a fourth with Yr Elen which forms the north-west shoulder of Carnedd Llywelyn but Yr Elen was a mountain too far today.

As always, when visiting a new area, I try to research it as much as I can. As it turns out, there are a few walk reports out there, but they are not as detailed as I'd like them to be, which I hope to change with this report. There are two areas of slight concern along the route that involve a scramble up Pen yr Ole Wen's west ridge, with the second being a scramble down Craig yr Ysfa, a crag made up of steep ledges and rock grooves located on the eastern spur of Carnedd Llywelyn. Conditions had to be perfect.

It goes without saying that parking can be a nightmare in the Llanberis and Ogwen valleys during peak seasons, when even locals struggle to park before 7:30am in the morning. Local HIghways Departments have clamped down, issuing parking fines and even towing vehicles away that are found to be illegaly parked. I didn't have any issues parking this morning at one of two F.O.C lay-bys located on the A5 on the shores of Llyn Ogwen from where I took this photo. I had packed for a hot weather day conditioning my body over the last 24 hours with litres of water topped up this morning with a couple bottles of Lucozade Sport. 

The sun was out when I arrived and already climbing into a cloudless sky but that didn't stop the shock the moment I opened the car door, encountering a chilled breeze as it blew down the valley. I thought the sunshine would take the edge off as I laced up in shorts and a technical T but no, moments later I returned to my boot to slip my Alpkit windproof on. I'm parked at the foot of Tryfan and walkers are taking to its crags and ridges already, two of whom I watch as I kit up; blimey, they were covering some ground.

The summit was reached with ease, and feeling a tad warm, I figured it was time I delayered; in fact, it was well overdue. I reached the shelter to find two walkers already there and two more approaching from the direction of Foal Grach who all turned out to be from London.

As mentioned in my previous walk report, I thought it was time I treated my feet to a pair of gel insoles, which had felt sore lately, no doubt not helped by the paper-thin original insoles of my Meindl boots, which, to be fair, hadn't been giving me any trouble up until now. The new insoles seem to be working a treat as I summited today's final and third-highest mountain in Wales Carnedd Llewelyn.

The first signs of the scramble appear further back, with two or three rock grooves to descend, which I would compare to the rock grooves found on Wetherlam Edge. I can't compare the final scramble down Craig yr Ysfa because there is nothing in the Lakes that I can compare it to. I descended from the right (left if you're looking from the ridge where I took this photo) where I found slight exposure but plenty of hand and foot holes. For the last section, I threw my poles to the ground, chickened out, and shimmied down a groove.

I must have been enjoying myself because I found the time to have a chat with the chap seen right, who also warned me about an awkward slab located on the steep Reservoir path below. He was a friendly chap, and had we not been in the position we were in, we could have had a good natter. After retrieving my poles, I joined the ridge before looking back at my route down, thinking, "You f-in idiot." Why didn't I scramble left just as the chap is? But I was reminded of the steepness of the rock and that there was more purchase on the right. In all a very enjoyable, but slightly technical scramble.

With Ffynnon Llugwy Reservoir behind me, I joined the narrow Reservoir Road, which at 1,817 feet (554 metres) is one of the highest mountain roads in the country. With a maximum gradient of 15% it's also one of the steepest. Despite the gel insoles, my feet were beginning to ache, so I popped an ibuprofen tablet and washed it down with half my lunch, accompanied by long sips from my bite valve. The road swerves to the right and passes through several gates, where I was passed by a young girl heading towards the Reservoir who was panting through her smile, and no wonder, at two and a half miles long, this road was also long, and I dreamed of what speeds I could get up to on my mountain bike.  I passed through more gates flanked by sheep and their young lambs. I could hear the traffic travelling along the A5 where, through a slight haze, Tryfan towered above. It was a biblical sight. A5 now and walking along a gravel pavement, not against, but with the flow of traffic.

The gravel pavement ended and I joined the carraigeway where the only thing separating me from an 18-wheeler travelling at 50 mph was a line of white paint. I was anxious to leave this road as soon as possible. I was passed by two separate cyclists; the first one ignored me, but I got a nice hello from the second. I reached Gwern Gof Isaf Campsite, which had an uninterrupted view of Tryfan - no powerlines, just mountain and I could clearly make out the Heather Terrace Path. I'd reached the cones that deterred anti-social parking, and I knew I was close to Llyn Ogwen now, perhaps half a mile or so, where I was passed by another cyclist and another 'hi' was shared. Next, I passed the coppice of trees where I officially started the walk six hours earlier, only now the air was hot and my lips had turned gooey through dehydration. I hadn't rested all day, and the thought of sitting on the wall next to where my car was parked filled my soul. Car park came, amazingly less than half full, with the windscreen from my car glinting away in the sunshine as was the surface of Llyn Ogwen. I unlocked the doors and sent the windows down to let the hot air escape. In went my gear, and out came my Karrimor mids. Wall, sunshine, feet aching - what a powerful day on the hill.