Day 4: Crossing the Black Mountains

Start: Pandy

End: Hay-on-Wye

Distance: 17.5 miles

I lay awake for most of the early hours listening to the rain thrash against the walls of my tent. I knew I had a tough stretch ahead of me and given the conditions, I wasn't really looking forward to it. Part of me wanted to remain incarcerated in my tent, held hostage by the elements and let the weather allow me a guiltless relief. But I was on a schedule and needed to face the rain and the hills. I let my stubbornness override, packed up and emerged. I battled with my tent, frantically stuffing it away, using my body weight to pin it down in the high winds, as the rain hammered down. As I began walking, miraculously the sun pushed through the clouds and the rain finally eased. Today's task was to traverse the Eastern ridge of the Black Mountains, with Llanthony valley to the west and the Olchon Valley to the east. My guide book tells me this 18 mile stretch requires "reserves of stamina" and would take 7-9 hours so I knew I had a long, tough stretch ahead of me.

Initially the path ascended gently to begin climbing up to the ridge. The sky was blue and the route was scattered with sheep that darted out the way as I passed. The route began to grow steeper, passing through heather lined stretches where wild horses grazed. The steep incline was persistent, but I stomped my way to the top gaining height quickly. I followed the gorse lined route through rough grass to eventually reach the summit of Hatterral Hill, marked with a trig point. From here the route levelled out and snaked through moorland, gently undulating which allowed me to pick up the pace.

A couple of hours into the ridge walk, I had still not seen a single person. Potentially everyone had seen the weather warnings and decided to avoid the trail. I could see it was raining on the hills to the west of me and this weather front was heading right for me. I scurried along, hoping the wind would push it in another direction, but my hopes were dashed as it began raining heavily. I pulled up my hood and carried on moving forward, reaching another trig point marking 610m. The route had become muddy in the wet conditions so I jumped between rocks to avoid my feet sinking into the bog. The clouds hung low and even though I did my best to hold my ground, the strong wind pushed me to walk in a diagonal direction.

It's hard to be at your best when conditions are at their worse. But sometimes that’s what the trail demands in order for you to get through. Ultimately, I can’t make the rain stop or the trail flatter but I can control my attitude and choose to embrace the situation for what it is. I’d rather have my positive memories outweigh the negative ones, even if those memories involve being a chaotic, muddy mess hopping over boulders smiling to myself. It’s easier to succumb to a negative state of mind when you’ve been trudging through the rain and mud for hours on end. When your legs and shoulders are screaming for you to stop, but there's no shelter from the elements , so your only option is to keep moving. But perspective is important and trying to fixate your mind on more optimistic thoughts. I've been here before. Soggy, tired, achey, heavily questioning my life choices. But I always come back for more. There must be a reason. I thrive on the satisfaction of overcoming challenges and this feeling for me has always outweighed the misery I might face in the process. Undertaking these adventures makes you become mildly addicted to a cocktail of chemicals. From the adrenaline that surges through you as you stride up a hill to the cortisol that serves you on the high intensity stretches. The endorphins that flood your brain following completion of your daily miles and the dopamine induced from the thrill of an ever-changing horizon. Out here you are drip fed these chemicals, you ride from one fix to the next, whether that be an extreme high or low.

As I descended the ridge, the weather eased and I saw my first people of the day, a couple out on a day walk. It had been 4 hours since I'd started and hadn't seen a single person so it was nice to have a little chat. From here the route followed gently rolling fields, where the town of Hay-on-Wye came into view. I was delighted to see my final destination for the day on the horizon and happy that I'd completed this stretch in just over 6 hours. Although today was a little gruelling, this section was my favourite so far due to the dramatic scenery and the challenge it delivered. The sense of solitude on the ridge as the clouds descended and the wind howled was exhilarating. I'm looking forward to spending the afternoon eating, resting and relaxing before I continue moving north tomorrow.