Thought I'd better write this as pretty soon it'll be very old news.
Last weekend a group of 17 and a dog set out for Scotland. I've only
ever been to Scotland a few times before and that was on business so I
didn't get to see much of it. And what bit I did see didn't prepare me
for Glencoe. It is truly awesome - it's like driving through the valley
of the giants.
The day of the climb seemed dry enough but there were ominous clouds up
above. I was expecting a gentle start and then some steeper stuff but
for a flatland walker like me it all seemed steep. Still the training
I'd done was paying off and I wasn't the slowest by any means.
I had been told that during the climb you can't actually see the summit.
You wouldn't have been able to on this day anyway but you could see
large quantities of cloud rolling off the top. I could well see how Ben
Nevis got its name form 'neimheas,' meaning venomous or evil one.
As we climbed higher we faced very strong headwinds. We had plenty of
stops because it was a very mixed ability group and I don't /remember/
it being particularly hard. There certainly wasn't a point where I was
hurting, unlike Snowdon the week before.
During one of the stops I was amazed to see a young girl in a flimsy
top, jeans and lightweight fashion trainers go past. She had in her
hand a can of Irn Bru. Shortly after that the wind got stronger and it
began to rain. We were pleased to see the girl and her boyfriend
heading back down. I remarked that this was probably the most sensible
thing they had done that day. We also saw a young woman and a small boy
of about 8 or 9 similarly equipped. Steve advised her of her folly and
they obviously turned back too. I was truly amazed that people would
venture out with so little preparation.
As we climbed higher we started to enter the cloud and I started
thinking of the Jimi Hendrix song Purple Haze. "Scuse me while I kiss
the sky".
It got darker and darker as we entered the cloud and the path
disappeared into the snow field. The rain turned torrential and the
wind was incredible. Visibility was variable. Steve decided that it was
too dangerous to continue and called off the attempt. I was so cold and
wet I was glad. The only thing I could think of was getting out of that
wind. Two of the party had taken it upon themselves to get to the trig
point anyway and we had to wait for them. We later found that we had
been just 50 metres short.
I didn't care. I had made the serious mistake of not putting on my
waterproof trousers and was very cold. But the further down I went the
worse the feeling got. 50 metres. So close. I was gutted and bitter. I
understood why Steve had made the decision and accepted it, but still
the feeling of failure would not go away.
Later as we were descending I got a phone call. I heard that a body had
been found on the Ben. The evil one had claimed another life. It must
have been a very hard decision to turn the group back when we were so
close. But lives are more important than touching trig points and I'm
still here to tell the tale. So thanks Steve.
The Ben isn't going anywhere. I will get to the top another day.
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--
Geoff Berrow (put thecat out to email)
It's only Usenet, no one dies.
My opinions, not the committee's, mine.
Simple RFDs http://www.ckdog.co.uk/rfdmaker/