8. Gwern approaches Harlech

Gwern woke up wet, more than wet. The persistent rain and wind flurries had given him a very uncomfortable night. It had been impossible to light a fire. The previous day after fording the river he had been walking up hill almost constantly. At first it had been forested, but as he climbed the trees thinned and the wind and rain increased. To his right he had occasionally  glimpsed through fast moving clouds an expanse of barren moor rolling towards the triangular peak of the great mountain, mynedd fawr. As the light started to vanish from the sky he realized that he would not make the summit of the pass and started a frantic search for shelter. A slight gap between two slate crags protected him from most of the wind but acted as a funnel for the torrent of water falling on the hillside above.

Struggling on that morning, wet and getting more and more miserable, he cursed. He cursed the rocks and the peat and the rain and the wind and the occasional wild goat. But by noon he had reached the top of the pass, the clouds and rain had seemed to suddenly blow away and Gwern was left awestruck by the vista spread out below him. Craggy hillocks burst out of the verdant oak forests which led in turn to a rich flat valley. A silver snake of water could be seen widening as it approached the sea. Gwern stripped all his clothes off and spread them rocks to dry while he ate almost the last of his supplies. Sated he dozed in the sun, dry for the first time for thirty six hours.

A fresh wind woke him about three hours later. He pulled on his stiff robes and started down to the river. He would rest again that night with only hills above him and none thankfully below. He made a fire that evening by the bank of the river and cooked a salmon that he had caught as it leaped up a waterfall. He could not finish all of the large fish and fed the remains to an inquisitive raven that had been pacing around his small camp since he had arrived.

The following morning the river had swelled with what must have been a tide and he swam to the southern bank with his clothes and few belongings in a bundle which he kept out of the water with one hand. By noon he had reached the wide mouth of the estuary the curious raven an ever present observer. The tide was now out and he carefully made his way across the sea marshes, watching for quick sand his father had warned him of. So intent on observing the ground where he walked that he was almost at the base of the great rock before he had realized it.