Our First Summit: Yr Wyddfa via the Llanberis Path

It was Dad's idea to walk up Snowdon. We weren't sure at first – 1,085 metres sounded massive, like, really massive, almost as tall as all our LEGO towers stacked on top of each other! But from the moment we stepped onto the Llanberis Path, with the mist swirling around us like something from a film, or maybe like magic-wizard-smoke, we were totally hooked. Our breaths were puffing out in little white clouds because it was a bit chilly, even though it was summer. The air smelled fresh and damp, like a big, ancient forest. We had our proper waterproof jackets on, orange for me (Jasper) and bright blue for Hugo, so Dad could spot us even in the mist. He always says, 'bright colors, boys, bright colors!'

The path climbs gradually at first, which was good because my legs weren't ready for sprint-up-a-mountain mode yet. We walked past the old miners' tracks – you could still see heaps of grey slate and crumbling stone walls – and little tumbling streams that gurgled and splashed, sounding like tiny giggling monsters. Hugo, being Hugo, kept counting sheep. He gets bored easily if he's not doing something. He got to 47 before giving up, because then he started spotting weird-shaped rocks and pretending they were sleeping dragons. Dad kept pointing out things like 'that's a glacial erratic!' which sounds super fancy, but it just means a massive rock from an ice slide. We munched on some Percy Pigs – Hugo’s favourite hiking fuel – keeping our energy up.

By the halfway café – can you believe there’s a café halfway up a mountain?! – the cloud had dropped even more, like someone had pulled a giant grey blanket over the whole mountain. We could barely see twenty metres ahead, and our voices sounded muffled. It felt a bit spooky, but also exciting, like we were in a secret world. We huddled inside the café for a hot chocolate, steam rising from our mugs, and watched people coming down, looking like fuzzy ghosts in the fog. Everyone was smiling though, even if they were soaked.

But then, just below the summit, the wind shifted. It was like a giant invisible hand pushed the clouds away. The clouds parted like curtains, slowly, dramatically, and suddenly we could see everything – Anglesey, looking like a huge green island floating on the sea, the Llŷn Peninsula stretching out, and ridge after ridge of mountains just tumbling away to the south. It was the most incredible thing either of us had ever seen. My jaw actually dropped open. Hugo just made this sort of 'whooooa' sound that was really long. The colours were amazing, all greens and greys and blues, and the sun broke through, lighting everything up. It made all the huffing and puffing totally worth it.

Standing on the summit cairn – which is like a big pile of rocks that tells you you’re really, definitely, at the tippity-top – buzzing with the cold and the achievement, we looked around at all those incredible shapes. That’s when we had the idea. What if we could capture this feeling – the contour lines, those curvy lines on maps that show how high mountains are, the elevation, the amazing shape of each mountain – on a t-shirt? Something you could wear to remember the day you stood on top, to carry a bit of the mountain with you. Something cool, not one of those dull souvenir ones. My hands were freezing, so I shoved them in my pockets for warmth, but my mind was totally buzzing.

That was the day Contour and Co was born. We’ve been back to Yr Wyddfa (that’s what the locals call Snowdon, and it sounds even cooler!) three times since, taking different paths each time. One time we took the Pyg Track, which is much rockier, and another time the Miners' Track which follows old railway lines. Every time it hits different, a new adventure, a new way to see the same amazing mountain. That’s the thing about mountains – they never get old. Just like our love for them!