Rain fell with variable intensity all day. On more exposed stretches, the wind made the rain colder and more penetrating, splattering rain drops against my face and driving them into cracks between my waterproofs. Streams, already swollen by recent rain, became miniature, foaming torrents. Pools of water were everywhere on the sodden ground. My boots, having kept my feet dry until now, gave up the fight and by afternoon water was squelching between my toes on each step. As far as I could I avoided doing anything but walking, as any disturbance of my clothes or entry into my rucksack let in water.
Not that it affected my spirits. The first part of the walk over moorland, by an old mine and the lake of Glaslyn was an area I also enjoyed when I walked the Cambrian Way, which Glyndŵr's Way briefly follows. After that there was, as usual for this trail, plenty of ascents and descents on paths, tracks and small roads, mostly through sheep farming country, with a few pine plantations. Pheasants and grouse scattered ahead of me a few times, and there was the sound of extended gunfire in one valley. A pheasant shoot I assumed.
Not stopping for lunch and navigating mainly by waymarks, by 3:00 pm I was wondering how much further I had to walk. Apart from a man and his dog racing past on an All Terrain Vehicle, I had seen no one all day, then I met a couple walking their dogs. Dog walkers are usually a sign that a town is nearby, and so it proved. By 4:00 pm I was outside my guesthouse in Machynlleth, struggling to get into my face mask as required by Covid regulations. Now after a welcome hot shower I have various items of wet clothing scattered about the room to dry.
The only photo I took owing to the rain, the road approaching Machynlleth, which is barely visible through the drizzle.
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