Above deep green pools in the Lledr Gorge, a rickety-looking structure traverses mossy, primrose- and anemone-starred rock walls rising from the water. I’ve been using this fishermen’s walk for nearly 50 years as the approach to one of my favourite rock-climbing venues in Snowdonia: the esoteric, 30-metre-high Craig Rhiw Goch.

A notice tacked to a tree where the access path starts its descent towards the river reads: “Warning. Dangerous structure. The owner accepts no liability for any loss, damage or injury, however caused.” Rescue from this location would be problematical. It’s a fair precaution to alert the unwary to potential risks here, though I’ve always believed that instinctive awareness developed from personal experience is the best safeguard we possess against danger.

‘If you’re of timid disposition, you’d be well advised to keep away.’ Photograph: Jim Perrin

The walkway is probably Victorian in origin and seems to have been built by local workmen using the materials you see abandoned throughout the slate quarrying region. If you’re of timid disposition, or if the river is in spate and the noise and flooding motion is disorientating, you’d be well advised to keep away, or use the harness-and-sling security techniques appropriate to an Alpine via ferrata. That’s the closest analogy to this remarkable structure I can cite. I skittered down the steep path to the riverbank, scrambled downstream across slippery rocks and stepped gingerly across to its start.

It had been repaired since I was last here: planks with wire mesh tacked to them for grip laid across the horizontal ladders; a rope handrail strung between bolts and spikes at head level. Being as worn in body as the walkway itself, I moved along it cautiously, preferring to rely on balance and holds in the rock wall.

The ladders take you into a wonderland. Dappling light was reflected on to ivied green walls. A yellow wagtail dipped and flitted after the biplane cruise of a sage-green dragonfly. On mauve and ochre boulders rising from the water, slender shoots of chives sprouted, as did the first feathery hints of hemlock water dropwort’s sinister umbelliferous presence. Just round the corner, the steep cliff held memories of difficult, youthful climbs. I looked across wistfully from ramshackle ladders to memories of silken bodily ease.