The Aran Mountains – a Shocking Experience

When I were a lass (as we say around here), I used to get dragged up hills by my parents each and every holiday. Most times, I wouldn’t say I really minded but this particular time, I revolted!

Strangely, I haven’t any photos from the Arans but this is that kind of time and area

When I was around 10 years old, we were holidaying in Wales, walking from Youth Hostel to Youth Hostel. On this particular day, the plan was to walk from Bala to Dinas Mawddwy – this looks a long way on the map but we actually utilised the narrowgauge Bala Lake Railway to get as far as Llanuwchllyn at the foot of the Aran Mountains. From what I remember, it was quite a nice day when we set out up the northern end of the Aran ridge.

There is a good, landrover track to start which, in less than a mile, forks and we took the right-hand fork uphill. In just over another half-mile, a small path splits off left keeping to the ridgeline while the main track contours off to the right of a round hill. We took the small path…

The path runs straight as a die over the hill, down into a dip and then up a more defined ridge heading right of the craggy eminence of Moel Ddu (Black Hill). Shortly after Moel Ddu we passed over Craig y Geifr, the crag of the goats. As there are very many wild black and white goats in Wales, this name is probably very apt.

As we ascended, the cloud lowered and a few growlings of thunder were heard. As I was scared of thunderstorms as a child, I started to get very nervous – a horribly black cloud was heading our way…

Shortly after this, before we reached Moel Ffenigl, the storm arrived and the rain started to lash down. As I was by now very upset, my Dad said we should all sit out the storm on the hillside so, after pulling on our rain capes, we hunkered down by the path. Foolishly, no-one seemed to notice that the path was running alongside a wire fence…

I sat on the end of our row with my eyes screwed up tightly so I wouldn’t see the lightning and wished I could block out the loud thunder as it crashed overhead.

Suddenly, the world lit up – despite my eyes being tightly shut, it was the most dazzling light imaginable. At the same moment, a huge jolt of electricity, so bad it was beyond description, raced through me. It seemed to start at my right foot, passed up through my right side and down my right arm and my left leg – all in an instant. The top left quarter of me didn’t feel anything – on reflection that was lucky as that is the quarter with my heart!

I opened my eyes in horror and looked at my parents who were observing me curiously.

“Have I been struck?” I asked

“Yes” they affirmed calmly. They didn’t seem at all worried.

I looked down at my foot (possibly to see if it was still there) and saw my feet were actually sitting in a river of water which was now running down the trench of the path – that wouldn’t have helped! When I quizzed my parents about what had happened, they said that the lightning was travelling along the wire fence top when suddenly it branched off and went for my right foot. They still sounded very calm!

I immediately started a huge fuss (as a ten year-old would). I asked if we could go back down the mountain but my father said no, we were continuing along the mountains to get to our destination. At this point, I went on strike.

When the storm had passed over, I refused point-blank to go any further up the hill and cried and tantrumed until they agreed we could go back down and take the back-road instead to Dinas. This is the road which goes along the narrow valley of Cwm Cynllwyd and then rises up the valley side to the Bwlch y Groes (Pass of the Cross). The road then descends very steeply to Pennant and continues down that valley to Dinas Mawddwy – around 12.5 miles road walking.

I have to say that I found the road walking very pleasant myself. The thunder rumbled away all day on the Aran ridge off to our right so I felt vindicated about the fuss I’d made.

As we passed a house in the valley, there was a lady in her garden. We stopped to chat to her. I told her I’d been struck by lightning on the hills and she looked liked she was looking at a ghost. After a few minutes speechless silence, she said that there had been seven people killed on the Arans so far that year by lightning and no-one had ever been struck and survived so far as she knew. I felt even more vindicated!

Many years passed before I plucked up courage to set foot on the Aran mountains again. My friend Mark suggested a walk along the ridge. I have to say we had a superb day’s walking following the ridge along from Aran Benllech to Mawddwy. At the summit of Aran Mawddwy, we sat with our feet dangling over the edge of the crags above the tarn, the Craiglyn Dyfi – him more relaxed than me I have to say.

After a long sit in the sun and something to eat, we followed the ridge down to Drysgol and then headed back past the llyn to Nant y Barcut in the Cwm Croes where a small road headed back to Llanuwchllyn. A lovely day with no thunderstorms.

I have to say that, since I got struck by lightning, I haven’t been anything like as scared of thunderstorms as I was before – I think it’s that I think I’ve had my turn and won’t get struck again. Of course, it is possible to get struck more than once – apparently a Canadian Mountie was struck on seven different occasions before he was finally killed by lightning.

An interesting fact came to light many years later when I discussed my lightning strike in my Climbing Club hut. There were a good many people on the meet sat in the lounge. When I told them about my strike, around a third of the people in the room admitted to having also been struck in the hills so it’s not uncommon for hillwalkers apparently.