Marhofn 2005 included the tale by Ursula Stubbings of how she became totally stuck and almost suffered severe physical harm on Craig of Monievreckie (1C). Incidentally, I did this hill in 2009 and it is entirely straightforward if you start from the car park east of Aberfoyle golf club and follow forestry tracks to a sharp bend at NN538013. From there, a faint path leads up a ridge to a gate giving access to the open hillside and thence without difficulty to the trig.
My tale is of a similar experience at not much more than half Monievreckie's modest 400m. It was a dreich day in North Wales. Snowdonia was out of the question. I reached for The Relative Hills to find something low to keep me out of the pub for a couple of hours. A first visit to Anglesey looked ideal. I could first bag Holyhead Mountain and afterwards Yr Arwydd (Mynydd Bodafon); both well below 300m and hopefully below the grey murk.
I should have feared the worst as I turned on headlights and foglights as my car climbed out of Holyhead following the signs for RSPB South Stack. However, from the car park, the 'Mountain' looked straightforward. I could see a track leading onto the open hillside. It disappeared into the clag after a few metres but I knew there was a trig on top. Keep ascending until you reach the trig then turn round and retrace your steps. I'll leave food, map, compass and GPS in the car and go without a pack. Back in an hour.
Finding the summit was easy. There were almost too many paths. At this point, if you have LR114, it may be worth pulling it off your shelf and having a look. I wish I'd been able to at the time, although I thought I'd memorised the lie of the land. Emboldened by all the paths, I decided to return slightly north of my ascent route and have a look at South Stack lighthouse. After an eternity, I emerged from the mist above a car park. It was not the one holding my car. I assumed it was closer to the lighthouse. Descending further and surprisingly steeply, I began to ponder why a vehicle leaving the car park had the sea on its left rather than its right. Slowly the horrible truth dawned. I had crossed the headland and was approaching the Soldiers Point car park, east of the hill and 180 degrees away from where I wanted to be.
I re-ascended to the misty trig and convinced myself I was continuing in a straight line back to my car. Another age passed. Vision returned and I saw a white coastguard building. South Stack lighthouse. I had given up my plan to go there but no worries, it was only a few hundred metres from my car and my emergency box of Mars bars.
Imagine my horror when I reached the perimeter wall and saw a notice reading North Stack Signal Station. Having intended to descend SW, my first descent had been NE and my second due north. Pausing to gingerly inspect the caves and cliffs (which someone later told me give some of the best sea climbs in Britain), I decided I was not going to re-enter the mist and pay a third visit to the trig. Instead I stayed just below cloud level and inched my way along precipitous ground, with fearsome drops into Gogarth Bay on my right, until South Stack eventually loomed into view. Shortly afterwards, five hours after starting what I expected to be a one-hour excursion, soaked, cold, tired, hungry and more frightened than I have ever been south of the Cuillin, I reached my car's Mars. Yr Arwydd would have to wait. Food and a stiff drink were required.
Since then, I have banned myself from stepping onto a hill without map, compass and GPS. This has taken matters to the other extreme. A few weeks later on a perfect autumn afternoon, I was assembling these items next to my car in Arnside village before collecting its relatively new Marilyn, when a guy by the next vehicle asked me whether I was about to attempt Arnside Knott or the Bob Graham round!
