A weekend of numbers

It’s been a long weekend of numbers. Four days of fun. In no particular order, then:

Rufus and I had our 1st, 2nd and 3rd time on a mountain since February. We walked Moel Feity on Saturday, Fan Brecheiniog on Monday and Garreg Lwyd this morning. I still get the buzz when I reach to top of a proper mountain like Fan Brecheiniog and I’d forgotten what that felt like, since the last mountain we did – Pen y Fan in Feb – was in white-out conditions. We walked 13.5 miles and climbed a total of 2896 feet in 7.5 hours. It was great to see Rufus back on form after his recent illness, bounding up and down again on all three walks and putting me to shame, although he was rather tired at the end of the day on each one, as was I. The snoring after we got home was not all his.

I was kindly loaned series 4 of ‘The Walking Dead’, an American programme I’ve taken a particular liking to as it seems to be a cut above most of the American output we get here. I’d watched series 1 -3 in a marathon month or so but series 4 disappeared from my catch up menu and I was left without the means to get up to date for series 5, which started a couple of months ago. 16 episodes (about 660 minutes over four days – the perfect wind down after a morning on the mountains).

I’ve also started reading ‘Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell’, a might tome of more than 700 pages and which is proving to be a fantastic read so far – I’m around 200 pages in. It’s written using a slightly old fashioned form of English which fits perfectly the story and setting – early 19th Century Britain.

I’ve had a great few days off but packed loads into each one. Back to work for a rest tomorrow!

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Twice in one day!

Neither Rufus nor I do heat. It’s great to see fine weather, the sun is a rare visitor and always welcome. But you won’t find either of us sweltering on the beach, or panting across some shadeless moorland in the high noon heat.

That’s why we both like the early morning. And there’s an added bonus; no one around. It means we can enjoy the countryside free of shouts and screams and this means more chances to see the native wildlife. Yesterday morning, we headed off the Brynllefrith Plantation again. We were there at 7am and immediately we were rewarded for our early start by the sight of a buzzard flying lazily between perches in the trees. All the time as we walked through the trees, sheep called and the echoes amongst the woods made for an eerie atmosphere.

After last week’s visit, I was wary of where Rufus went and my caution was rewarded when I was able to stop him from trying to investigate at an intimate level two dead sheep within yards of each other. Aromatic disaster averted, we dived off the main path to head deeper into the trees and away from any more ovines. I found myself being attacked by horseflies and wishing I had put on some of the insect repellent I’d got for the trek.

We walked for about two miles through the trees, down to the Upper Lliw reservoir and back again and by the time we left the plantation, it was getting hot. I had planned to head off the sort distance to the wind farm, where by it’s very definition I knew there would be a cooling breeze. But as we neared the car, Rufus munched on some grass and a minute or so later was suddenly sick. He didn’t seem ill (he’s been running around in the woods) but I decided to cut our walk short and head home. By the time we got to the house, all signs of a tummy upset were gone and a healthy appetite had appeared. I can only assume it was a bit of dodgy belly and he’s made himself sick with the grass.

The day was hot with little breeze to cool things down. Even in the shade the temperature was up. We sat and sweated and dozed and channel hopped between the Tour de France and the Commonwealth Games. But there was something missing. unfinished business.

Once the day’s temperature had dropped, we set off back to the wind farm. Rufus was bouncing once more and I wanted to try some long exposures of the moving turbine blades. I hoped there would be enough of a breeze to get them going. I needn’t have worried. as we made our way across the moorland, the blades were slowly swooping and swishing. In the silence of the late evening, I could hear them and the whine of the generators almost as soon as we left the car.

The sunset was quite disappointing but the evening was pleasant and the turbines dramatic.

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