Funny how being in woodland makes exact map reading more difficult. If I had been counting steps the distance should have been apparent, not so easy when forcing a way through briars and thickets, so as we climbed the fence to get out of the first enclosure into a pasture, I mistakenly thought we were leaving open access, only now have I pieced together the exact layout of those fields. More diverting at the time was the view, that was revealed to our left, to the NW; the Arran ridge was just showing over multiple horizons, becoming more visible over an overgrown hedge as we gained height in the field. Soon a gate was visible, this allowed us to follow the line of the marked footpath but on the wrong side of the hedge. It is fascinating countryside, valleys to right, valleys to the left, a wood straight ahead, a new farm
track gave easy access to the road and thus we avoided entering the farmstead of Ty-ar-y-Graig.
Probably a lucky choice, later to find out, as it was we got a good barking at by the farm dog, as we stood at a field gate opposite the farm, contemplating the route ahead, whether that gate and the RoW actually coincided is a moot point, certainly the dog disagreed as it followed out into the field for some way, perhaps venting it's master's displeasure. The terrain and the map soon started to agree, and really did seem that we were walking a natural way, following the twist and the turns of busy countryside. Buzzards flying overhead, a lamb no older that a few hours tottered after it's mum. Then
the tops of the Rhos just started to appear amidst some vibrant yellow gorze. Getting through this farmyard was a knotty problem, well used bailer twine twisted into incomprehensible tangles was either keeping a gate together or acting as a hinge or inplace of a latch. It was take your pick, the gate either apart, fell over or opened. Despite the dogs barking the doors of a new brick farmhouse remained firmly shut, so we chose a route a mixture of old and new buildings and now looking at the map, I believe we chose the nearest to the correct route through.
We left Rhos to head E towards
Dolwar Fach, crossing a sloping field, we were looking down into the eastern end of the patch of open access we had earlier entered (looked too marshy to be much of a walking area). Happy to find a gate in the field boundary, coincidental with the route, we followed a hedge line that seemed to hang over the top of a steep, convex slope, which curved away to our left. This gave the quality of way a very pleasing sensation of exposure, but all too soon gave way to a new view of woodland and the need to descend into a valley bottom. Here we probably came to the property boundary and the means of crossing ditch and hedge had long since disappeared, walk furniture had not got to this little outpost of forgotten Wales or it was buried deep in the corner of the wood beyond a steep ravine that was showing signs of recent erosion.
Suddenly I recalled the reason I chose the name of Barewirewalker, as my intrepid partner skipped over the muddy brook, climbed the bank, wriggled through some hedge and unerringly found the best bit of fence to climb, I thought "there goes Mrs Barewirewalker". Not bad for a couple of OAP's, though my performance was not nearly so neat.Back to the map, the hedge line we reached actually matched the pattern on the map, but not the right one. However we were able to cross a field, get on another RoW and approach the farm of Dolwar Fach by a proper way, to be greeted by the rather perplexed owner,
"Are you walking Glyndwrs Way or the Anne Griffiths Walk", he asked.
"No we have come over from Rhos", I replied.
"Ow That routes been shut off for years, used to be the way the postman walked", he replied. So I did not go into too much detail how we had survived his boundary fences. Turned out he had worked for the Livestock Auctioneers at Welshpool market so we swapped a few reminiscences. When I explained we had come over from Ty-ar-y-Graig, I learnt that we were lucky we had not met that particular occupant in his farmyard, so the scolding his dog gave us was a lucky break.
A question; these routes as seen by the locals as redundant ways are those we have for our leisure access to the countryside. If we walk them and find merit in the routes they create, then by standing up for them, pointing out how they contribute to our enjoyment of the countryside can they be valued. We were running out of daylight because we had stopped to talk on three occasions, perhaps we lost 1 1/2 hours of our walking day, but so far we were having a good fun day out. Laughed and joked with some nice, friendly people.
Perhaps I shall come back later to finish off our walk.