Full from our meal, and tired from the climb up Cadair we had a good first night in tent. It passed quickly and we woke to a brighter morning, a little mist over the tops - and eggs for breakfast! Sophie was amazed that we’d carried fresh eggs with us, though admittedly we’d only bought them at Machynlleth. They were Sophie’s first wild camp boiled eggs, and were a delicious start to the day.

We packed up and waited for Daniel and Nick (who had stayed in the B&B at the bottom) to reach us. They arrived just as we were stuffing the last of our gear, and we began the long climb up the ridge, initially up a stepped path, then gravel and rock.

It was a long slog to the summit - including a big (and frustrating!) downhill section part way, but we broke the climb with the first of many snack bar and dried fruit stops. As always the views made any pain worthwhile and although the wind was blustery the mist had lifted from the peaks.

We reached the stony summit, the first peak of this leg of the journey for us and for the message batons, and took plenty of trig point photos - including explaining the batons and the journey to a few passing walkers. We moved out of the wind and into the shelter of the bothy for lunch and various teas, coffees and hot chocolates - and proud demonstrations of the folding cups!

As we left the summit, Sophie peeled off to take the west ridge to Minfforth, while the rest of us headed down the rocky Pony Path. We quickly left the boulder-strewn summit behind, descending into grassland with a smattering of purple heather, but remaining on the painstakingly constructed rocky path. We had views of distant hills in all directions, including over to the Rhinogs - our next day’s destination, and they looked big!

We took several breaks at the side of the path, admiring the views, the diversity of the grasses and tiny rock-flowers, and exploring the potential sounds of rocks for a stone xylophone. Having received not one but two batons, and a handful of rocks, how about passing a Cadair Xylophone along with the message sticks, we mused. While our more mischievous sides were tickled by this notion, we soon realised that we would first have to carry one of the boulders, and the idea rapidly became less attractive!
 

As we descended, our tired feet lead us to joke about stopping to wait for the next bus, and as some other bemused walkers witnessed this conversation we were again lead to explain the purpose of our journey. As we headed further down the hill we were into sheep farming country, then the occasional gate, a track, a farmhouse, and then a walk through the deliciously calming green, fern-crowded riverside path through the valley towards the campsite at Kings Youth Hostel.
 

The perfect woodland path