Saturday in the Brechfa forest was truly glorious that made the crack of dawn start to get there all the more worthwhile, making good time over the ground before mid-morning when the sun kicked into high gear and lugging the pack any further would of become rapidly unpleasant. I had been packed ready to grab 'n go hoping to get away Friday night but alas was not to be.
Coffee break at the quarry Saturday morning.
With my pack stashed well out of sight freed from the burden I went on bimbling about wandering seldom trod paths discovering strange pools and peering cautiosuly over the edge of slopes into dark forboding gulleys that whilst begging to be explored are probably not best tackled solo with only paracord to haul ones bottom out with.
Footsore and weary later that afternoon retrieved my pack and trudged on a little further back into to familiar territory urged on by the strange craving for a pot-noodle and pondering how long it would take to chill the can of larger whose weight I'd previously been cursing.
By early evening the weather was looking a bit more unpleasant so opted for a more breeze resistant basha setup rather than the hammock I did last time out with a fire to keep things toasty after the temperature dropped.
Not a lot of room but enough to sit up in or doss down and still have room for the exploded contents of the pack and keep a bundle of larger firewood out of the rain.
With my twig eating woodgas stove and its almost predictable burn rate working on dinner and the lager sat in the stream I set about building a bow-saw frame for the bigger wood I was going to need later, having left my folding saw at home meant this task had to be done right before things got to dark.
Could of been better and certainly done better ones in the past but it worked well enough to zing 10 feet of fallen pine into all the foot long logs I was going to need in next to no time. Not bad for a 99p blade, whilst overkill for most of what I do normally it never hurts to practice. I don't just mean making the saw, when you've got trunks under stress or balanced it often requires a little more thought than the usual technique of cut once & mind your toes.
Sunday was a washout, mist down to ground level that just didn't want to let up mixed with a fine drizzle dampening everything daft enough to be outside for to long to the point of being soaked.
It's insidious stuff with no big drops hitting your head you figure meh.. it ain't that bad but soon discover otherwise as I did trying to get the fire going again. After breakfast stripped down to T-shirt and a wheelie bin liner for a poncho whilst I ventured over to recently felled section to collect pine resin.
None of this wandering for hours looking for a tree leaking naturally at ground level and digging away with a knife.
Picking my way carefully through barren landscape of sticky stumps soon collected two nice solid tennis ball sized lumps in about 90 minutes. Dog-mess bags (the heavy duty green ones) are ideal for jobs like this. Wooden or stone scraper depending on how freshly cut the tree was, wipe into bag over hand, simples. Mind you it's devlish stuff no matter how careful you handle it and for that reason I don't get my camera out to take pics lest I tempt fate, as the great sage Lofty Wiseman advises "get a mate to do it".
With fire restored thanks to natures napalm the rest of the morning dried out nicely with the mist giving way eventually to just ugly showers,
it wasn't really a day for exploring but did stumble across a little waterfall and where that mutant sheep from my last visit is bedding down for the night.
As for the rest of the day it was slow almost meditative watching the rain, washing socks, drying everything out, putting vaseline on my boots,
shaving fatwood, charring punkwood, reading one of the books on the Kindle, updating the journal and pigging out on account I had an extra days
worth of food packed. Not terribly exiting stuff but nevertheless therapeutic.
Full belly and an empty hip-flask later sleep beckoned as the fire died down to just coals flickering in the breeze.
Awoke refreshed on Monday to find sunshine hitting the tarp, birds singing their hearts out and a midge sucking on my jugular.
With every step through the dew covered grass sending more of the them into the air breakfast and the morning constitutional was a somewhat hurried affair as I packed up for the hike homeward.
Reaching the Llanllawddog gate is always a relief for me, from here on the going is almost flat all the way to bus stop and a speedy ride back to Carmarthen.
Coffe with real milk, hot running water and a bed without lumps hmmm.
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