Not Climbing Highest Mountains

Having climbed up Ben Nevis, Britain's highest peak, last July and having a fear of heights back then, I kind of considered myself brave, or stupid, or both, but was nonetheless very, very proud of my achievement. After all who can say out of all of you guys that you have did the same, and have faced their fears face on like that in such an extreme way?

However, when I say climbed Ben Nevis, I actually mean walked up the Ben Nevis Path, which is a very easy, allbeit, very long route to the top. In fact, the route is so accessible that it is possible to drive a car all the way to the top, as I discovered via my guide on the first trip.

This does not take the achievement factor out of the climb, but merely adds to an ever growing thirst for adventure that seems to be developing within me these days. Having run a Half-Marathon also last year just a few weeks after my ascent up Britain's tallest, I have since became hungry for challenges of the physical variety, contemplating swimming the channel, walking the West Highland Way from start to end, cycling from city to city across country, possibly doing a full marathon (Loch Ness perhaps), and EVEN cycling from Lands End to John O'Groats AND BACK, with my ultimate goal being to walk the entire coast of Britain.

It seems I have woken a fiery demon inside of me, one who wants me to kill myself with over-exertion most likely.

My family and I just got back on Friday from a little cottage break in Fort William, "Britain's Outdoor Capital". The views on the way up and back of the snowy mountains, the valleys at Glen Coe that stretch for miles, the greenery of the countryside, the fresh air, and the beautiful sights along the many loch's of the Highlands were all simply breathtaking. However, with the fiery beast in my belly burning hot, and with the reunion between myself, and Ben Nevis which is situated within Fort William, I simply had to have a go at it again.

On the morning of our first full day there, I checked the local weather, and also the forecast for the high grounds, and to my absolute delight it was predicted that the skies would be cloud free, there would be little or no wind, and there was no rain, or snow forecasted for that day.

It didn't take me long to persuade the family, (my wife, and two girls aged 5 and 8) to take a stroll to the foot of the mountain and then have a go at climbing up the main path.  

It all started off really nicely, despite the freezing temperatures of -1*C at the early stages, with my good self in the lead, holding my youngest's hand and guiding my family up. We passed by the stile just a few hundred yards into our ascent without hiccup. Next we started to tackle the steps of rock and pebbles and continued on our way for another 15 minutes walk or so. As we approached one of the small waterfalls however, we knew there were going to be problems as ice was spotted on the pathway, and without any proper climbing equipment, ie; a pick axe, we grew instantly cautious of our surroundings, but in good spirit we carried on. Up we climbed for another few hundred yards when we got to the first twist in the path were you are forced to change direction.

At this stage my youngest was beginning to grow apprehensive of larger steps between rocks, mainly because her size wouldn't allow her to step across the gaps, but again we marched onwards and upwards. We turned the next corner in the path putting us in the direction we started off facing, but this time we were higher up, and as we started to walk further, it happened...

SNOW!...

It wasn't much to start with to be honest, but as we were only about a fifth of the way up, and with inexperience in mountainclimbing, even hillclimbing being a major factor, especially for the girls who hadn't done any at all, I knew (although my heart sank) that it was time to turn back.

There would be absolutely no point whatsoever of continuing up a mountain path with inexperience, under ever growing treachorous conditions, and having already walked for over an hour by this point, and the snow coming in, we thought it wise and increasingly important that we turn around and head back to the bottom to re-group. With that thought, the idea of reaching safe ground and treating ourselves to a nice hot chocolate, or a hot bowl of soup seemed heavenly.

That evening as we were all cosy and wrapped up we were hearing news of avalanches at the Cairngorms, of people who had died whilst mountain climbing, and with the recent avalanche at Glen Coe killing two people also, I couldn't help but think, "If we had continued it could have been us!" Whether or not that would have happened is a different story, but when it comes to protecting your family, and yourself for that matter, perhaps its better to NOT climb highest mountains.

...I will however be returning again to the foot of Ben Nevis to try again to reach the summit, and my eldest daughter is determined that she will be coming along too, so watch this space.

There is a lesson to be learned from this, though, don't count your chickens before they are hatched? I'm not sure if this is correct or not, but there is a lesson to be learned somewhere...