Let’s all meet up for the welsh 3000’s
Black Sheep head to Wales for some mountainous adventures
By Nick Syrett, and with Tom Clowes and Tom Arthur
Starting from the cottage added 7 miles — because obviously we needed more distance — and a climb up Yr Wyddfa to kick things off. Many opt for a shorter start, but we like the scenic route (read: pain). A dodgy A55 diversion and late-night food stop meant minimal sleep before the 5:45am alarm. Classic.
The forecast? A medley of wind, storms and sunshine. Perfect. We set off towards Llanberis with a friendly horse waving us off. The clock doesn’t start until the first summit, so we took it easy. After dodging descending Solstice revellers, we reached the top in two hours. Quick summit pic, no queue, and at 08:53... game on.
Descending towards Crib Goch we cheered on a stream of sky runners — not our style, but good luck to 'em. The wind picked up across the ridge, but it was manageable, and we were lucky to only have a few pinch-point traffic jams. Half the group were ridge first-timers — not the place for vertigo.
Then the rain came. Greasy scree and slippery grass turned the descent into a crash course in gravity. I managed a spectacular face-plant into a pointy rock, straight into my chest. Every breath, jolt or arm push sent sharp reminders that I’d probably broken something. I could still run, though “run” may be generous — discomfort was the theme from there on out.
“The 3000s have been on the list for a while, and as Nick mentions.. It’s hard to find a competent group of people to do these kinds of things with. Take your opportunities.”
The Welsh 3000s — 15 peaks over 3,000ft in Snowdonia — had been whispering to me for years. )A print on my bookshelf and friends’ tales kept it firmly on the list. I’d planned to take it on in 2024, but trying to find others willing to train and suffer through a borderline masochistic day out proved tricky. So I set my sights on Solstice 2025 — a Saturday, maximum daylight, and peak hippy vibes.
Andrew Basford was keen, though his family’s cold conveyor belt made him a maybe. His brother Mat — new to Chorlton Runners — was game despite not really knowing what he was signing up for. Tom Arthur, always up for rolling the dice, joined in. James Atkiss offered to crew and drive, giving us crucial support at two road crossings so we could travel light. Then Tom Clowes caught wind of the plan two days before and jumped aboard — because why not?
With a WhatsApp group name that’d make Jarvis Cocker proud, planning began. Three legs, point-to-point. Logistics boiled down to two cars and a bike. We stayed at a cracking old miner’s cottage in Waunfawr, with sheep and horses for neighbours. Aki joined us for leg one before swapping trail shoes for a steering wheel.
“I’d go as far as to say big days have to be with great people. These things are not easy - the people make it easier.”
Leg 2: Weathering the Storm: We rolled into Nant Peris around 10:40, just in time to find a runner sprawled awkwardly on the floor. Turned out she’d taken a nasty fall. Sophie joined us at the pit stop, patched up her gashed knee, and our hero driver James added “mountain medic” to his résumé.
Andrew wasn’t feeling great but was glad to have navigated the Crib Goch descent. Leg one: 11.1 miles, 4 hours.
As we waved off Aki and the stitched-up Sophie, things unravelled for Andrew. Halfway up Elidr Fawr, his chest wheeze and general fatigue got the better of him. He and Mat bowed out, leaving me and the two Toms to carry on — slightly nervous, since Andrew was the one who actually knew the route.
The wind and rain cranked up. Jackets on. We trudged to the top of Y Garn, battered by gusts and terrain. My rib pain, which had been simmering, now stabbed with every jolt. The Toms started pulling away. I wondered if I’d make it.
The Glyders were relentless — moonscape rocks, loose scree, zero flow. Sky runners zipped past us looking only slightly less miserable. One peak blurred into another. Tryfan loomed. The iconic Adam and Eve leap? Tempting, but not with wobbly legs and a crowd watching.
We descended the same brutal boulder path. Every arm push was a stab to the chest, but it hadn’t worsened. Small wins. Down the Heather Terrace, sun blazing now, we ran hot and dry, dunked hats in streams and dreamt of the Ogwen Valley.
At the layby, we found Aki, changed socks (joy!), inhaled snacks, and waved him off on his final bike leg of his unofficial Eryri triathlon. The Basford bros arrived, fresh from a lake dip and early exit down Devil’s Kitchen — no regrets.
“An honourable mention must also go to Aki’s 15m mega-tumble-save just before we hit the second ridge of Crib Goch… squeaky bum time!”
Leg 3: The Long Goodbye: We looked up at Pen yr Ole Wen with quiet dread. The third and final leg promised more runnable terrain — allegedly. Our legs weren’t convinced.
The Carneddau offered grassy trails, thunderous sound effects, and false summits aplenty. “Is this the last one?” we asked more than once. “Erm… nearly,” came the replies.
The scenery was epic — valleys shrouded in mist, coast in the distance, groups of fellow sufferers nodding in solidarity. Every descent was quad agony, every step a small internal scream. Still, we moved well and covered ground faster than expected.
The final stretch was in cool cloud cover — bliss after the heat. We trotted into the car park to... no fanfare. Our crew had underestimated both our pace and how far north we'd ended up.
We collapsed, stretched, cramped, and grinned. We'd done it. Solstice 2025: the longest day, literally. A cracking adventure with great company, dramatic weather, and just enough luck. Huge thanks to the support crew.
Food of champions: scotch eggs, pork pies, watermelon, strawberries, bananas, jelly babies, Haribo, banana loaf, a rogue schnitzel, cheese & marmite sandwiches, and Mr Kipling’s party tarts (obviously). Washed down with 5 litres of fluid each. Thank god for the van.
Stats:
Total from cottage: 59.43km / 36.9 miles, 4523m ascent, 13h 02 total time
Official Welsh 3000s: 42.4km / 26.3 miles, 2992m ascent, 10h 11 moving time
(*includes runner rescue and unnecessary climbs over a few rocky extras)
Big numbers… and still only half a Paddy Buckley round. No thanks. Now, where’s that raised toilet seat?