Arriving at the mountain we were all thinking the same thing: do you think he saw-us (get it?) and also hoping that the fog would calm down. The beginning was simple, walking on dry grass, wet grass and passing the occasional river. Then the terrain went rocky road, we felt like goat parkour masters as we climbed rock to rock. We could feel rain beginning it spit upon us. We scrambled up the mountain for about an hour, it was exhausting but when we got to the top, well at least we thought so.

The fog was so strong it looked like an unfinished cartoon with no background, just plain white, the  fabulous view of utter nothingness, because of this Jez, our horse-phobic instructor, had to give us a WHOLE 5 MINUTE break (thank god).In this break, like you do, I decided to have a cup of tea and be swarmed by the whole group just because I (attempted to) secretly remove this delicious product from my bag and taste the whole rainbow of flavours from Skittles^TM, but I only had red and green, fortunately there was still 60% of the product inside my bag. After completing our journey and reaching the summit the fog had cleared and you could see the amazing view and thought to ourselves “how did I like get here?”

We ate lunch, took a picture by Adam and Eve, two rocks that stood next to each other, Eve being the shorter one and Adam being the taller and the thinner. Then we begun our descent. We half climbed – half slid down some rocks till be got to a ‘stair case’. It was a path made of lots of badly placed rocks that we couldn’t step off so we wouldn’t erode the mud.

Going down was equally or maybe even more difficult but twice as rewarding with the views, slowly seeing our minibus getting closer and closer, our feet hurting more and more we all begun speeding up and watching our feet to not to step into any sea deep mud (which unfortunately happened to me).

So in conclusion the trip up Mount Tryfan (stegosaurus) was an amazing, foggy, wet and rewarding with the view experience.

By the way we called Mount Tryfan Stegosaurus because from the last mountain we were on (The head of the black hound) from there, it looked like the back of a stegosaurus.

By Arek and Bramble

We should probably explain now that the Head of the Black Hound is a mountain, standing at eight hundred and thirty three metres tall (precisely), adjacent to another mountain  named The Slippery Witch, a bizarre and dodgy name for a hill.

At roughly nine in the hazy, crisp morning, we boarded the minibus, driven by our instructor Jez. We travelled through the stunning scenery, an artist’s canvas splashed with orange, yellow, and green. When we arrived, we were greeted by an extremely steep and daunting hill. Leaving Jez behind briefly to find a more suitable spot to park the minibus, we began our trek up the Black Hound’s vicious and snarling head.

After walking up the steep incline, our legs already burning with unfathomable fatigue, we paused at a cattle grid, observing the sheep as they grazed leisurely upon the lush green grass, waiting for Jez. He arrived promptly (also out of breath like the rest of us) and he gave us a briefing of our treacherous route to the summit. Soon, we were on our way, keeping a sustainable and rhythmic pace.

Soon, after roughly about half an hour, we parted from the level road, and continued on to off road, and more bumpy and rocky terrain. Then, we shortly arrived at a reservoir, shimmering in the sun, now just above a tall ridge of far off mountains.

Presently, after a short break, we carried on, the path narrowing, and the heights increasing. The scree and loose stones crunching under our feet, we winded up the path, following in single file, the reservoir gradually becoming smaller and smaller, and the summit becoming bigger and bigger.

After several more breaks to have a drink and eat some food, we came suddenly to a great form of jutting rock, covered with patchy moss and plants, struggling to survive in the wind which constantly battered the sides of the rocks, weathering them and wearing them down to blunt protrusions. Jez talked to us about honing in on our weaknesses and strengths, and about conquering fears.

We began our climb, using both hands and feet as much as each other, meandering through the jutting stones, careful of our footing, for one wrong placement could end badly. The wind was picking up, hurtling at us like a galloping horse.

We burst up from the forest of rocks that hemmed us in, and came to a wide plain of swaying grass, the wind bludgeoning us from all sides, and the sun beating down onto the yellowing turf. The view was breath taking, a sight of rolling hills and protruding mountains surrounded by occasional woodland, the leaves upon the trees yellow and orange, Autumn well under way. Rivers and lakes were also etched across the landscape. We stopped for about ten minutes, then began our slow and gradual descent, along the way of which, we witnessed many signs of horses, but did not see the actual wild and majestic beasts themselves.

Eventually, after an hour and a half of ankle breaking decline, we soon passed the same cattle grid we had seen many hours ago, and followed the same steep path all the way back down to the minibus, boarded, and made our way back home, saying our farewells to the Head of The Black Hound, which bared its fangs at our departing bus.

By Seb and Ben