Following The Flight Path

The tide was in and the estuary looked more like a lake. Interrogating the OS map, it must look a lot different when the tide is out and the sandbanks are revealed by the retreating sea. By the time I got to the end of the landing lights, the sun was trying to make an appearance; things were looking up. The estuary looked rather pretty, with its rocky shores. It reminded me of Arisaig on the west coast of Scotland, a place I used to go on holiday as a youngster.

Remarkably, some of the fields I crossed were mysteriously dry. Oystercatchers screeched as they skimmed across the water. I could see Four Mile Bridge further up the river. It didn't seem that far away, but I could see from the map that the trail meandered around inlets. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard a jet engine start up. I must have been at least a mile from the airfield, but the noise was overwhelming. I waited to see if they'd appear, but no luck; they were obviously taking off to the south, towards Rhosneig. As soon as the roar of the jets had disappeared, the air was buzzing with a number of propeller powered aircraft. They went around in circles, lowering in height as they came in line with the runway approach lights. They were obviously performing training on their landing approach. They went around so many times that I started to get dizzy. Even though they weren't jets, they were still quite noisy, and again I pitied the householder on or near their flight path.

Four Mile Bridge

At one inlet, the path was on the shore and this had just been covered by the tide. Fortunately it was still shallow enough for me to get along it. I just hoped that the tide was going out and it wouldn't be any deeper on my return journey. The nearer I got to Four Mile Bridge, the more the path resorted to field hops. It also drifted away from the estuary. It culminated in an atrocious area that was a combination of crag, thick mud and gorse. I could see a footpath sign on the other side of this area, but there was no semblance of a footpath to get there. The mud had been created by a wandering tractor and also by the cattle that I could see congregated around a feeding trough.I slogged my way through it and thought I'd got over the worst when I got to a field next to a farm. I hadn't; the field was waterlogged and was horrendous. Two women walkers looked marooned and were standing on a metal pipe at the side of the field. I started plodding towards them. 'You're better off crossing over there.' They pointed to the area from which I was approaching. 'We came from over there, thinking it would be better here. It's not. It's a lot worse.' I trudged back and started making my way across. A couple of times I though I might lose a boot. Thank goodness I'd got my gaiters on. I noticed that the women hadn't. 

Four Mile Bridge is really a barrage with a sluice gate. Water was gushing through into the inland lake. I'd been here a couple of days ago (see Anglesey's Holy Island Completion), when I'd seen a couple of Cormorants diving to feed in the outflow from the gate. I thought they were AWOL today, but they were simply underwater when I arrived. First one and then the other poked its head above the water. I watched them for a few minutes, diving and then appearing many metres away. Like the other day, they didn't appear to have any success in the quest for some lunch. 

Return

It was just as muddy on my return journey. I managed to survive the 'Tough-Guy' course through the fields near Four Mile Bridge. The women walkers who had been stranded on the metal were nowhere to be seen. Maybe they'd just sank without trace. My fears about a rising tide at the inlet was well founded. The water was far too deep to wade through now. There was a stone wall next to the water and I climbed on to that and started inching my way along. the landowner had put up a barbed fence on the landward side of the wall and this made things even trickier. I stumbled my way along the wall half expecting to either slip into the sea at one side, or fall into the barbed fence on the other. It was only for about 10 metres, but it felt like 10 miles. 

As I approached RAF Valley, the Propeller Squadron started doing their circuits again to practise their landing approach. Some of them did actually land. They seemed awfully close as they flew above my head. The carpark area was full when I got back with half a dozen people watching the free airshow. I joined them since a couple of jets were queuing to take off. We were only stood about 200 metres from where they were positioned to take off. The noise when they started rolling was quite astounding. The earth seemed to shake. It was an unforgettable experience. 

It had turned out to be a far better walk than expected. Sure, I'd had light rain and the mud and tide had presented me with some challenges, but a lot of the path had been quite dry and the views were picturesque. It was good to catch up with the Cormorants at Four Mile Bridge. The air show at RAF Valley was amazing. That particular viewing point is going to be a definite place to visit on future excursions to Anglesey. I might bring some ear defenders, next time.