Climb Ben Nevis? Why would you want to put yourself through such a physical challenge and endure the aches for the following couple of days? Well, it is quite fun.
On New Year's Eve morning, my significant other wombled off to be the tallest man in Britain for a minute or three and left me to my own devices for the day. He expected me to sleep for a few hours then read and perhaps explore the centre or even a flat walk. However, when he called me to tell me he made it to the top, I was already 690m up Nevis myself. Seeing him all kitted up inspired me to scooch over to the nearest Highland Centre and buy some waterproofs, a hat and gloves and see how far I could make it.
As far as I can remember, I'd never actually reached the summit of any mountain or substantial hill. Ever. I'd been dragged on plenty of walks in Derbyshire and the Peak District but the pinnacle, so to speak, had never befriended me. My boyfriend is a seasoned masochist for walking and hiking so he was in very good shape to mount Nevis (apologies for the awful pun). He was perfectly tolerant when I politely refused to join him and let me have a relaxing day in the Highlands, expecting the peak of my physical day to be chatting to a sheep in a very nearby field.
It isn't as if I do absolutely nothing physically demanding, though. I like to call myself a runner and try to keep up with training in that respect. Road running is fun, for me, and though I'm not as fit as I hoped I would be when I started running, I manage to keep at least some discipline. When I was younger, too, I'd hop on a train and go for a walk round the Peaks for funsies. They'd be flat walks but I'd enjoy it, longingly gazing at the surrounding hills and wanting to be able to clamber up to their clouds.
So on New Year's Eve morning, I set off towards the Nevis range, got my feet absolutely soaked within the first half an hour thanks to a mini-lake in my path and challenged myself to catch up to walkers ahead every so often. Rather than setting a goal of height or time or distance, I'd just reach checkpoints or embrace the relentless desire to 'see what's on that sign' or 'get to that waterfall'. I'm glad I stopped at 690m. To me, that's a bloody impressive height. According to walkjogrun.net, it was about a 4.5mile journey from the hotel. My watch told me it took just under 3 hours of climbing, which, if you notice I took several stops to take photos and weigh-up the obstacles, is pretty good for a first-time mountain-climber.
The reason I stopped where I did was because I was faced with a pretty strong waterfall to cross, followed by not a stone path but a snow-covered side of the mountain. There was no way my shoes would have protected my feet, there, or that my balance would have allowed me to stay upright. There was a small bit of traffic, too, as the snowy pass was only a one-person attempt. I waited on a rock just before the waterfall and got talking to a very friendly Barnsley walker who'd just been to the summit. He told me how high I was (without him I'd never know exactly - thank you so much!) and showed me a video of himself at the summit, surrounded by snow and thick cloud. His bag was frozen solid with no chance of opening the zips for a while and his pride was infectious. Having seen minor celebrities climb mountains on TV for charity, my perspective on mountain climbing was that it was a thing that only happened on the telly box. My brother does a fair bit of it himself but I'd never been there so it never occurred to me that these things actually happened. Odd logic, I realise. But Barnsley man showed me that video and I was so taken aback. This man was sitting next to me, had been at the summit only 2 hours ago and I was on Ben Bloody Nevis. We shared a bit of a moment when he looked out in front at the view and told me it was the first view he'd had all day because on his way up the fog was so thick he was only concentrating on marking out the path in front of him. Barnsley man, I salute you.
The first thing my boyfriend said when he finally appeared round the corner and reached me was, "You have waterproofs?". I think it took him a while to realise my personal achievement but it was lovely going back down the mountain with him. Even though I slowed him down massively. It means, also, that I actually have photos of me clambering over rocks and pathetically attempting to be somewhat adventurous.
So climbing Nevis was one of the best spontaneous trips I've made in my life so far. I reached incredible heights, saw amazing views, breathed very fresh Highland air, drank very cold Highland water, got a massive rush of adrenaline, met an inspirational bloke, inspired my boyfriend to take a photo of us both (this is a big deal - he doesn't do photos!) and got rewarded with the satisfying ache of muscles the day after. And infinitely saved a bit of a naff New Year's midnight.
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