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@Bearlegged
That feeling when you look across a valley at a steep and winding road and think, "I'm going up that," and then you're proven right. Sigh.
I struggled upwards through the forest to Nant Rhys, where I found myself tempted to eat all the things. This turned out to be the correct option, and I set out again into the breeze and mizzle with renewed enthusiasm. One should never underestimate the restorative powers of a good brew. From here to the head of Cwmystwyth was my first taste of truly glorious desolation. The time alone I'd been craving was finally here. Cwmystwyth itself knocked the famed Glen Lyon into a cocked hat! Wales never fails.