Not your average night!

26th July 2008

We left Sonning at 9pm stopping briefly just outside Telford to pick up Tom; arriving in the car park at the bottom of Snowdon at 1:30 Saturday morning. It was pitch black and the moment that I switched on my head torch reality struck (actually, reality had struck Friday lunchtime so I rushed out to buy the aforementioned head torch as the alternative of climbing in the dark was slightly worrying!). I was almost ready and looking up to where I assumed the mountain was awaiting our arrival, when a voice came out of the darkness, ‘has anyone see the compass?!’ There was much rustling followed by a few choice phrases which belonged after the 9pm watershed and then it was decision time; do we climb in the dark with no compass or wait until dawn. I looked up, there was no moon, the cloud base was too low, a moments hesitation, I shone a torch in Simon and Tom’s faces to check their fear levels and we were off.

The planned route was to reach the summit via the horseshoe and finishing with Crib Gogh in the daylight - a sensible decision considering the warning from the ‘hightrek’ website:

‘Warning: Crib Goch should not be attempted in poor conditions. It is a serious climb in winter, and is dangerous in strong winds.
The Snowdon Horseshoe is one of the best ridge walks - if not THE best - in the country. The route should not be attempted by anyone with a fear of heights, since it includes the knife-edge arête of Crib Goch, and for the same reason it should be avoided in high winds.’

The first 45 minutes was simple, we were able to switch off the torches and walk with just the ambient light. Then it got difficult, the gradient steepened, the path became harder to follow and we were completely reliant on Simon’s knowledge of the mountain. In short, he was an absolute hero. How he managed to keep us heading in the right direction without disappearing over one of the many vertical drops I will never know. Each time my worry got the better of me, the path would appear again in the beam of the torch. If I was worried for myself, poor old Tom was having a nightmare - he had 2 head torches, both of which were failing and a hand held torch which hampered his ability to clamber over the rocks. I spent so much time swivelling my head around to show him the paths, I felt like I was at a tennis match.
After a couple of hours we were in the cloud, visibility was appalling and at some point we lost the ridge we had been following. We quickly came to the decision that it was time for a brew and we would wait for first light before moving on. Simon again showed his hero tendencies when he produced not just a stove and tea bags, but also a fresh pint of milk. It’s been a long time since I enjoyed a cuppa as much as that one.

All too soon it started to get light and we were on our way. Then it was just a slog to the top, too often sliding on the wet rocks. If I hadn’t realised it before, there was a slight difference in conditioning between myself and the other two; basically I was paying for the last 20 years of the good life and it hurt. The top was a great feeling, the cloud was swirling all around us and we took turns to stand at the summit looking up into the whiteness. All too soon it was time to move on, the decision to finish on Crib Goch was confirmed and we were off.

All I can say is that it was magnificent, totally awe inspiring. ‘The arête was formed from the cooled magma of a great volcanic eruption sculpted by glaciers on both sides.’ We were tired and it demanded respect every step of the way. After about an hour the ridge dropped down into the valley and we were passing people just starting their climbs. The energy started flowing back into my limbs and we ran the last mile. I finished on an absolute high collapsed in a heap next to the car, 7.5 hours after we started, with two knackered knees and a bruised face from getting too familiar with the mountain as momentos.

What a blast, good to meet you Tom, bring on the next challenge :)