Cwm Ciprwth

It’s hard to believe that the tranquility of Cwm Pennant, the pastoral idyll that presents itself today, was once the home of numerous mines and quarries.  Ruins of old farm buildings and dwellings are joined higher up the valley’s slopes by those of industrial projects long abandoned. Indeed, any exploration of Snowdonia soon reveals such relics - started with enthusiasm but almost always abandoned in despair, the promise of rich pickings soon revealed as false hopes. 

Of course, there are the massive slate works that were so successful that they seemed at one time to supply the world’s roofing tiles, the huge gashes in the landscape at Llanberis, Bethesda and Blaenau Ffestiniog - now part of the Slate Landscape World Heritage Site. Those of Cwm Pennant are minnows in comparison. 

But it’s a copper mine I want to see - Cwm Ciprwth, high above the bluebell strewn valley floor. And that’s the problem; to get there means a steep ‘walk’ up the slopes. I struggle with any uphill walking these days, but at times this actually becomes a hands and knees scramble for me. In places the path has crumbled away, uprooted trees leaving gaps. It’s slow progress as I pause to work out how to make my next move, or simply rest to catch my breath. I know I really shouldn’t be doing this - and just hope my back holds out. But I just want to get up to the top to see what remains of Cwm Ciprwth. The urge to see and photograph clouds my better judgement. 

And it’s worth it; we reach the top to see the mine’s eight metre diameter water wheel rising from the ruins, rusted but majestic. Made in Truro - and yes my mind immediately visualises Aiden Turner galloping across the moors - and dating from 1889, it provided a near-silent, pollution free method of both pump and winding drum to run this small and short-lived mine. 

We wander amongst the ruins and mechanisms - partially restored - and enjoy our picnic lunch sitting on a ledge of the crumbling remains of the small barracks. The views are, of course, breathtaking. 

And then it’s time to descend back to the valley. Despite my fears, it’s less treacherous that I’ve feared. Supported by my walking pole and leaning on G when things get particularly tricky, I get down safely, breathing a sigh of relief.  I probably shouldn’t have even tried it, but I’m very glad I did! 

So please forgive me stretching Monday’s visit over two days of Blip, but I really felt I couldn’t condense this mini-adventure into one day. There’s so many views to take in, it’s another set - and G and I disagree on what should be the main. I love mono for ‘industrial-type’ shots, but G feels the contrast between the hardness of the machinery and the ‘softness’ of the land works best in colour - and I know many blippers will agree! Still, I’m sticking to my guns - for now at least - and going for mono, with colour views in extras. There’s also a collage with sections of rusting machinery - I just can’t resist!