A car beeps its horn twice. Strange how the first sounds angry and the second sounds cheerful though it’s the same tone from the same car.
It’s not long before the brief climb up the start of the path leaves the urban sounds of Blaenau Ffestiniog behind and I’m left with the deafening sounds of the breeze blowing through the grasses along the edge of the Llyn and the annoyed tweet of the birds startled from their resting places.
It’s hard to believe less than twenty-four hours earlier the whole area had been battered by Storm Hannah. The environment recovers so well.
Before long my the horizon is broken by the shell of a building built entirely of slate. Not surprising as there is an abundance of the material piled high all around. The ‘slag piles’, would today be classed as an ecological disaster yet today they’re part of the scenery as they’ve been there before our perspectives and policies changed.
The building, probably some form of a warehouse, still tries defiantly to withstand natures battle plans to recover the ground. A true testament of the skilled workforce who built it.
The still complete chimney stack would have once issued out smoke from the fires burning to provide the necessary heat to warm its occupants as they work to prepare the slate which had been mined higher up.
Leaving the building behind the path continues onward as it climbs towards the evident low point in the pending hillside ahead.
This designated path shows signs of its original use long its course as sections of the once ‘tramway’ appear on its course.
These narrow gauge rails would have constantly vibrated as carts full of slate would descend from the quarry whilst returning carts would be loaded with provisions.
The path ends as the ground levels out and further building remnants come into view drawing a picture of abandonment. Once, if I’d stood in this spot, I would have surely been in someone’s way as they busied around doing their assigned tasks. Theirs cursed towards me being drowned out by the noise of heavy machinery.
A cold breath breaks on the back of my neck, not from any beast but the land itself. The air seeps from the ground as quickly as the water does. This opening, a doorway to the mine, seems somewhat blacker than black and the water, once a combatant the mine engineers fought against with pumps and drains, now runs freely.
Onward the journey goes, feeling excitement and apprehension when the top of the mountain pass approaches unsure what views await.
Never disappointed, always surprised and filled with a sense of pride with a side effect of a smile.
This land took over four million years to create. Man brought it to ruin in under a thousand years. It now recovers as nature wins its battles and agreements are reached.
Adventures await anyone willing to explore. It’s hard not to enjoy. Everyone is welcome, just bring a healthy respect for the mountains and the weather which rolls over them.
It’s not long before the brief climb up the start of the path leaves the urban sounds of Blaenau Ffestiniog behind and I’m left with the deafening sounds of the breeze blowing through the grasses along the edge of the Llyn and the annoyed tweet of the birds startled from their resting places.
It’s hard to believe less than twenty-four hours earlier the whole area had been battered by Storm Hannah. The environment recovers so well.
Before long my the horizon is broken by the shell of a building built entirely of slate. Not surprising as there is an abundance of the material piled high all around. The ‘slag piles’, would today be classed as an ecological disaster yet today they’re part of the scenery as they’ve been there before our perspectives and policies changed.
The building, probably some form of a warehouse, still tries defiantly to withstand natures battle plans to recover the ground. A true testament of the skilled workforce who built it.
The still complete chimney stack would have once issued out smoke from the fires burning to provide the necessary heat to warm its occupants as they work to prepare the slate which had been mined higher up.
Leaving the building behind the path continues onward as it climbs towards the evident low point in the pending hillside ahead.
This designated path shows signs of its original use long its course as sections of the once ‘tramway’ appear on its course.
These narrow gauge rails would have constantly vibrated as carts full of slate would descend from the quarry whilst returning carts would be loaded with provisions.
A cold breath breaks on the back of my neck, not from any beast but the land itself. The air seeps from the ground as quickly as the water does. This opening, a doorway to the mine, seems somewhat blacker than black and the water, once a combatant the mine engineers fought against with pumps and drains, now runs freely.
Never disappointed, always surprised and filled with a sense of pride with a side effect of a smile.
This land took over four million years to create. Man brought it to ruin in under a thousand years. It now recovers as nature wins its battles and agreements are reached.
