When considering attempting the three-thousanders we spent much time thinking about which line to take in the few places where options occur. Although very familiar with most of the route, having walked in North Wales for many years, there was still the odd gap in our knowledge and we needed to explore to find the best way off the Snowdon group. Having convinced ourselves that we had found what is for us the most suitable and enjoyable solution, we have always tackled the walk the same way. It is not quite the shortest route, being 33 miles with the inescapable 12½ thousand feet of uphill climbing, but who cares. We are out for pleasure, not records!
We have never had backup from anyone for this walk, partly because it would be difficult to arrange and partly from a liking to be independent. More people involved means less choice of dates and it's harder to make last-minute changes. We like to give the whole venture as low a profile as possible, but remain prepared to act quickly should the weather look suitable. We have never felt inclined to walk really long distances in very windy or wet conditions. Perhaps we are getting soft, but we are not masochists and where would be the fun? Cloud cover is harder to predict, but to walk all day with no view from any of the high tops would be a shame.
Our preparations are kept as simple as possible. When travelling north, we always elect to drive overnight since the going is so much easier. Capel Curig can be reached from our home in Brockenhurst in well under five hours. We set out between 8 and 9 o'clock in the evening and make first for the foot of Tryfan. By torchlight we find a suitable boulder, off the beaten track, where we can deposit a bag of provisions for the day ahead. We always leave a dated 'please leave' label attached in case anyone should stumble across it.
We then drive round to the Llanberis Pass car park for a short doze before breakfast at about 3.30 am. Many people may think it odd to miss a night's sleep before a very hard day but we look at it this way: prior to such an adventure, one is too excited to relax properly and tossing and turning in bed with an over-active mind merely builds up stress. We rest as much as possible during the previous afternoon once all preparations are completed.

Despite the earliness of the hour, breakfast is always as normal: meusli, shredded wheat, a marmalade sandwich to save making toast and plenty of tea from a flask. Trying to stoke up for the day ahead by eating more or different food doesn't seem to suit our insides. Paul carries the rucksack with food for both whilst I take my own spare clothes dangling around my waist, sometimes three garments deep, and the camera if we decide we may need one. Because of the need to keep weight down, we only take one pint bottle of water and a small cardboard carton of fruit drink between the two of us. This seems a ridiculously small amount of fluid, but we have always managed all right by making good use of streams and a large water bottle in our cache under Tryfan.
We set off at about 4 o'clock am, or as soon as the light is good enough to walk without stumbling. Since we have always confined ourselves to the period between late May and mid July, visibility has never been a problem.
Progress is a bit bleary up the PYG track at first, and as we scramble towards the summit of Crib Goch the time of day together with lack of sleep engenders a slight feeling of unreality. Should the morning be clear and bright, the rock turns brick red in the first rays of the rising sun, contrasting beautifully with wisps of pale mist rising from the valley below. Spirits soon soar at such a sight. On the other hand, if the weather is overcast and dull with the rock feeling cold and damp to the touch, one can find oneself wondering 'why on earth did I want to do this?'
However, getting to grips with the, for me rather scary, airy ridge ahead soon concentrates the mind wonderfully, so that by the time Crib y Ddysgl's top is reached, one is well awake and eager to 'get on with it'. Having Snowdon summit to oneself is a rare privilege but we don't linger too long. Calling 'good morning' to the ravens whose wonderful aerial antics we enjoy watching on a lazy day, we turn back down the tourist path.
At Clogwyn station, we carry on down grass parallel and to the left of the railway line which we cross after about half a mile. More grass on the other side of the track leads down and slightly to the right where we make for a rounded green prominence from which a steep but easy grass ridge descends rightwards into the valley below. The first part of this descent has a small sheep-track path but this disappears after a while. We have to pick our way over rather boggy and in some places steep and slippery ground until a large and strategically placed stile crosses a wall near the foot of the slope. Continuing down diagonally left, crossing another small stile, we soon reach a path beside Afon Nant Peris. This attractive stream runs down to a footbridge leading to Nant Peris village.
We usually cross the road at Nant Peris at about 8 o'clock. The dew is still thick on the grass and the village seems as yet half asleep. We feel quite elated to think one group of mountains has already been scaled. Elidir Fawr beckons now.