The Sugar Loaf mountain stands 596m high in the Brecon Beacons National Park, Wales, near Abergavenny. It is the southernmost of the summit peaks of the Black Mountains. This circular walk offers many vantage points of (and on) the Sugar Loaf.
The route starts at a Cibi valley farm before ascending through a medieval deer park then ancient moorland. The climb to the summit is short but steep with rewarding views. The meandering descent passes grazing sheep and crosses a spring before a near vertical climb, then back onto Sugar Loaf common. The final decline is through woodland and pasture to the start.
9.9 km / 6.2 Miles
Link to OS Map Route: Sugar Loaf from Porth-y-Parc
Conditions: High teens but warm, blue skies with clouds, freezing breeze on the summit!
Parking: Car park near Porth-y-Parc, free.
This route was totally unplanned. Not only did we only decide to do it that same day, but the National Trust car park we planned to use was closed. Presumably this was due to COVID-19 crowd control in the Brecon Beacons on an August Bank Holiday.
I hastily checked the OS map to try and find an alternative car park, while Martin navigated single track roads and hordes of walkers making their way to the Sugar Loaf from their roadside parking spots in the north of Abergavenny. We did find an open car park near Porth-y-Parc, and felt a little smug for having a map. We weren’t the only people using this car park though, so while we waited for a space to become available, we hastily planned our way with little to no idea what to expect en route.
Cibi Valley and Park Lodge Farm Priory Deer Park
Despite the blue skies, there was a chill in the air at the car park. As with any walk that has a significant elevation gain, we opted for layers. Taking the ‘indirect’ route to the Sugar Loaf, we walked along a farm track which skirts the edge of a forest.
The ancient woodland is bordered by an abundance of fern and the babbling Afon (River) Cibi, which despite its name, is in fact a stream. As the woodland came to an end, there was a picturesque water feature; tiny waterfalls cascading down the rock.
Emerging into a clearing we followed a grey farm track, and caught sight of the Sugar Loaf. From this angle, the conical shape resembled a volcano, but it is made from red sandstone like the rest of the Black Mountains. Even from this distance, the weaving footpaths up the mountain were easy to see.
Approaching Parc Lodge farm, we were now in a former monastic deer park that was formed at some point between 11-1300 AD. It had once belonged to the Benedictine priory of Abergavenny; believed to be the current farm building. The farm sits at the head of the Cibi Valley, nestled between the Rholben and Deri ridges of the Sugar Loaf slopes.
At the farm, the footpath doesn’t marry up with the map. The farmer has re-routed the footpath around the farm through livestock fields, but it’s not a long diversion. Re-joining the OS map footpath, we dog legged on ourselves to walk along the western side of the farm. Looking back to the start from this point, we realised we’d climbed a few hundred feet.
Although not taxing (yet!), this was my first walk in a long time where I was carrying a rucksack and water (Martin tends to do all the carrying)! While the climb so far had been subtle, from this point onward it was much more apparent.
As we ascended a grassy track out of the valley and through the medieval deer park, the temperature suddenly felt much warmer and I was beginning to regret wearing that fleece! The undulating track alternated between sheep pasture and copses of gnarly trees; different landscapes but both equally lush and green.
The woods to our right, as well as the woods at the start at the walk along with St Mary’s Vale (not on this walk) make up the Sugar Loaf Woodlands Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI) and Designated Special Area of Conservation (SAC). The old sessile oak here are located right on the south-eastern fringe of the habitat’s European range, and the area is a particularly large example. The copious amount of fern contributes to the ancient oak woodland feel.
As we emerged from the woods I finally admitted defeat and the fleece came off. On the plus side, I’d settled in to carrying the water weight by now. We’d climbed a fair elevation by now, so as we crossed the grassy field towards the base of the Sugar Loaf, we turned around for a sneaky look back over the ridge and surrounding woodland.
The Sugar Loaf was well within range now. We hopped over the medieval, stone pale (clearly defined banks that marked the boundary between the old deer park and Sugar Loaf common).
Sugar Loaf Common
Gradually rusting bracken and heather covered the eastern side of Sugar Loaf common and its slopes up to the mountain, only broken to make way for clearly defined criss-crossing paths up to the summit. National Trust manages the site and the paths are well cleared.
The paths were surprisingly busy, considering this is a mountain climb, with the people on the Sugar Loaf resembling ants on a mound. Its popularity is testament to the mountain’s relative ease. On a quieter day it would be very rugged and wild with only sheep for company. We took a deep breathe and off we went.
The ascent becomes steep quickly – flat Essex does not adequately prepare one for steep hill climbs – and we had to stop quite a few times to catch our breath. At places we had to stop to allow those coming down to pass; social distancing is a good excuse for a quick break! Pausing to watch beetles shift sheep dung was also a good reason to stop.
Along the way a lycra-clad pensioner and two (electric) cyclists stormed past us, while people making their way down smiled at us sympathetically.
Sugar Loaf Summit
The path becomes increasingly rocky and the final few metres are an easy scramble. The chilly breeze hit us out of the blue as we reached the top, and got progressively colder and windier as we headed west. The fleece went back on and we admired the views. Fortunately, the summit is broad and long, so accommodates a surprising number of people without any risk of falling over an edge!
This being a clear day, we could look down on Abergavenny to the South East and Skirrid Fawr to the East. The north side of the summit is very steep, with dramatic views over the black mountain range. You can also see see over to the Brecon Beacons range in the west.
People swarmed around the trig point waiting for their turn at a selfie, so we didn’t hang around and descended on the western side by clambering over some rocks; good fun!
The path down was steep. Looking over our shoulders, the view of the summit disappeared quickly. Unlike the Eastern side, where the top is always visible, the approach from this side gives a false peak.
The path leveled off to make way for a gentle saunter through purple heather-lined grassy tracks with fewer people than on the way up. Grazing ponies and sheep lifted their heads to watch us as we passed, and swallows skimmed a large puddle.
Taking a “path” off to the left, the descent got steeper and was a bit hard on the knees, but we were surrounded by good views of ridges, fields and hills in all directions.
At the bottom, heather made way for forest green fern. The wild of the common was interspersed with ploughed sections. We approached a stone wall and followed its course to the left.
Crossing a spring in a steep valley
The grassy path evolved into a stony track that descended steeply into a small valley, over a little ford, and an even steeper climb up the other side of the valley!
To the left of us, the stream cut dramatically into the slopes of the ridge up to the sugar loaf itself. In the valley, delicate fairy pools and waterfalls trickled daintily and a small stream ran through the middle.
I’m not convinced that the sight was worth the hard work needed to get back up the other side, though. The track was near vertical, loose underfoot and we struggled up on tip toes; it was a real calf stretcher and requires a degree of fitness!
Sugar Loaf Common back to Porth-y-Parc
The hard work done, we welcomed the flat walk along the southern base of the sugar loaf, occasionally intercepting paths coming down from the summit towards Mynydd Llanwenarth, or Deri Fach and St Mary’s Vale. In hindsight, it appears that St. Mary’s Vale would have been worth incorporating into the route, but as the walk was so hastily planned we missed out!
Shortly before we reached the wall that would return us to the old deer park, we crossed a cascading stream and a tiny copse of juniper trees drinking from the water in a deep, carved out section of the hill; quite out of place on the moorland.
We briefly retraced our steps over the grassland towards the woods, going straight on around the edge of the trees instead of heading left towards the farm. As we passed through tree-lined sheep pasture, crows cackled above our heads.
The atmospheric footpath became a muddy but dry stream bed surrounded by moss covered twisting tree roots. If this seasonal stream is wet, there is a narrow footpath on the bank above it.
The trees gave way to farmland, and the rocky path with loose stones moves through Porth-y-parc farm, back to the car park, completing this circular route.
Love Wild Walks
