Klondyke Lead Mill, Conwy Valley

The Klondyke Lead Mill was something of a hidden treasure in the Conwy Valley, on the west side near Trefriw and Llanrhychwyn. Getting there was half the battle. At first we drove up the hill through Trefriw towards Llyn Crafnant, but pretty soon we could tell it wasn't the way to go. Perhaps we could approach from the other side of the little valley the mill sits in, from Llyn Geirionydd. So we drove through the beautiful little village of Llanrychwyn and up towards the other lake. Cue lots of rain, a parked minibus, and the far off sounds of people enjoying outdoor activities.

The path down to the mill was fairly straightforward, but we weren't entirely sure of where we were going. We walked a few yards along the road from the north end of the lake and took the footpath on the left side of the road. After a fairly level but muddy walk along a clear path (two stiles to climb over) the path split, and we took the left turning to wind down through bracken towards the valley floor. In places the path was quite slippery, and also fairly rocky, and to reach the mill in the end required balancing across a very stable but rather narrow beam set over the river. It wasn't a hard walk but it would be difficult for the infirm.

Once reached, the mine is a fascinating place, a quite large ruin which although derelict seems fairly stable, at least as far as most of the walls go. Fallen beams and rusty machinery abound. The main bridge to the mill has disappeared, leaving only the parapets. On the other side of the river is the barred off entrance to a mine. The story behind the mill is rather fascinating. Wikipedia tells you that the place was initially built in 1900 to mill lead from the Pandora Mine some two miles further up the hill past Llyn Geirionydd, but it ceased operation just five years later because the business was unprofitable. In the 1920s the place became part of a scam to gain money from investors, who were told that the Klondyke Mine was rich in silver. Joseph Aspinall, the perpetrator of the scam, spent his life in and out of prison for persistently attempting similar scams. The place is now apparently under the guardianship of Cadw.

The north end of Llyn Geirionydd, a smallish lake in the hills above Trefriw. There's a monument to the 6th Century Welsh poet Taliesin just visible in the photograph, if you look hard. Taliesin is supposed to have lived by the lake.

Some of the Forestry Commission pine trees standing in ranks up the hill near the lake. These trees are grown and regularly harvested over much of the area.

As we walked down from the head of the lake what looked like small mines and workings could be seen alongside the small river.

Some of those holes in the hill.

Our first glimpse of the mill as we walked down through the bracken in fairly wet weather.

A little closer.

Much closer to the mill now, but still on the wrong side of the river, we were wondering where we could cross over. We had to dogleg back down this steep slope.

The barred entrance to the small mine - nothing more than prospecting tunnels according to Wikipedia - directly opposite the mill. This was used in Aspinall's scam, when he dressed up the walls to look as if they were rich in metals, to show to prospective investors.

The narrow plank over the river - about eight inches wide, but a lot more stable than it looked.

View of the mill having just crossed that plank. The mine entrance is directly behind me here.

Looking back at the barred entrance to the mine.

Some of the surviving timbers and what looks like some kind of wheel on the wall facing the river.

This is the site of the original bridge, with the sturdy buttresses still intact. A barrier has been put up on the left side, presumably for safety reasons. There are signs that people mess around here on bikes, and that would probably be a tempting jump.

Some of the fallen timbers inside the building. Signs warn you to keep out.

Looking up from one of the ground floor doorways.

Another view of the interior from the same doorway.

Through the window.

Some of those warnings to keep out of the ruin.

'Live fast die you(ng?)'

Spoil heaps below the mill. Walking on this is a bit like walking on the moon. Well, a wet, gravity-rich moon with a lot of organic matter mixed into the black stuff, anyway.

It's striking to think that nothing has grown in this stuff for a hundred years.

People have obviously been having fun in the place. There were tyre tracks, various bits of litter, and remains of fireworks on the ground. It's good that someone's using it.

The mill from the spoil heaps, and the hill we walked down.

The remains of - what? Some round structure, with a very brave silver birch clinging to life.

That broken bridge from the downstream side.

Here you can see the mill and the mine entrance in the background. The river runs between the two.

View from a window? Perhaps not much has changed since it was first built.

I put my camera up to the bars and used the flash to get a glimpse of what we couldn't see with the naked eye. Two tunnels it seems, with another leading off to the right. This place may not have been profitable but it looks like there's plenty of iron present in some form!

Rather blurred because I couldn't use autofocus and couldn't see in the dark, but you can see something of the tunnel to the right here.

Back over the river, we say goodbye to the mill.

It really started raining on the way back. Thank god for Cadbury's chocolate and car heaters.