2004 saw me in less-frequented parts of Wales several times, notably the hills south of the Brecon Beacons. Even bearing in mind how neglected this region is in books and magazines (Jim Perrin did a couple of TGO articles recently, but I can't recall anything else), I was surprised just how empty the hills were in a densely populated area. The quality of the walking is quite good, and the views often interesting and sometimes excellent. Craig yr Allt and Mynydd Allt-y-grug were highlights, with Sugar Loaf the low point - an early-morning sprained ankle slowed me down on the remaining seven hills of the day. Medical advice would no doubt have been to rest, but it seems to have survived my treatment.
A trip to region 41 with my wife was very pleasant and included the delightful south ridge of Lewesdon Hill and east ridge of Long Knoll. Later in the year I combined a day's work in Portsmouth with the South Downs and a brief night visit to the Isle of Wight, carefully arranged to minimise ferry costs. I was not too impressed by the Marilyns, but Tennyson Down to the Needles in the early morning made up for them.
As usual, Scotland provided quality and variety. Meikle Says Law (28A) had the highest ratio of effort to enjoyment. It was bleak, the track was not as easy to follow on the ground as on the map, and a bleached and dessicated hare corpse would have made a perfect picture commentary if I had taken a camera. At the other extreme, Cruach Innse, Sgurr Innse and Cnap Cruinn made for a great March day out with plenty of interest: rain, wind, sun, rainbows, mist, hail, ptarmigan, snow bunting, deer, red grouse, intermittent views, craggy bits, two Corbetts and a Graham. The following day north of Loch Lochy just had wind, rain and the sight of a companion setting off two impressive mud slides. Most entertaining moment was when a suspicious farmer below Hownam Law (a hill with live electric gates) accused me of owning a BMW; his attitude thawed noticeably when I pointed out it was a beaten-up old Skoda. The year ended with three dull wet days in the Lakes and finally the wonderful new year's eve, with shifting mist and a fine brocken spectre (the first my son had seen) at the summit of Scafell.
Cruach Innse
