Could a five year old get to the top of Scafell Pike? It was a question I didn’t think much about.  We mostly just cracked on with it; the answer seemed an obvious yes given Arthur’s normal level of energy and enthusiasm.  In the week leading up to our trip we set up ‘Mission Command’ in the spare room which added to the theatre of our first big adventure. This proved a useful place to dump all our gear. I got the map, compass and necessary supplies over the following days.  Arthur pinned his drawings of mountains to the walls.  We rehersed safety drills and planned our route.  I think it was fairly early on we established our ‘one rule’ – safety first.  By the Friday we were so excited.  I finished work, got home and packed up the car.  And off we went -driving into the the night. Only 5 or 6 hours – so basically just round the corner. Having burnt our way through loads of diesel and made more than one stop at the Golden Arches, we arrived in the Lake district.  It was gone midnight and Arthur had been awake for most of the journey.  A quick recce of the car park told me formal rules of city parking had been abandoned or never existed to begin with.  We were both keen to get our first car camp underway and although we were fuelled by sweets and fizzy we fell asleep swiftly covered in various blankets and sleeping bags.

In the morning I woke early to a miserable rain.  I set about packing the kit we needed and getting my bearings.  Arthur woke shortly after.  We chatted about the impending hike and began using the phrase ‘beast mode’ to describe the effort we would need to reach the top.  I asked Arthur how he felt about the weather and asked him if he wanted to wait for a hour or two and see how things progressed, he replied, ‘Lets just get on with it’.  And there it was – we had set our own culture within hours!  We now had our policy (Safety first), operating style (beast mode) and strap line (Let’s just get on with it).  Worryingly corporate!  But, it’s held us in good stead thus far.

We set off into the mist and rain.  I gave Arthur any useful information or advice I could think of.  I remembered my time at the Military Academy and being told ‘any fool can get their feet wet, it takes effort to keep them dry’.  I knew we were going to get wet but I implored him to keep out of the streams and mud for as long as possible.  We rounded the first corner.  The view up was clouded in mist but the view into the gully on our right was amazing.  We battled on up.  The first stream we had to cross had the potential to leave us very wet but two lads who were also crossing helped me get Arthur over in good order.  Onwards we went.  The weather got worse.  The rain got heavier, the fog got thicker and the temperature continued to drop.  Smashing more sweets and fizzy we continued up.  I offered a lot of encouragement to Arthur who was amazingly robust given the nightmarish conditions.

After several statements of ‘it’s just round the corner’ we did eventually make it to the rocky summit.  In bad weather it’s always temping to look at the map and place yourself furthur along than you really are! We were cold and wet but absolutely elated.  I was so proud of my little boy, we had cracked England’s highest mountain.  A few photos, more sweets and fizzy and we were on the way down.  It was really no place to hang around.  Unless you are a fan of fog watching there was very little to see.  Other hikers were surprised to see Arthur and roundly commended him on the achievement.  People on their way up were asking us ‘how much further?’, to begin with I was saying ‘5 mins’ then ‘ten mins’, ’20 mins’, but after quite along time of hiking down people were asking in plain sight of the car park!!  The weather improved rapidly on the way down.  We were soaked but no longer cold.  We walked straight through the stream we had made such effort to cross carefully on the way up.  It made no difference.  We saw a rock that looked like a giant chicken head.  By the time we got back to the car park the sun had made a big push to get out and we were bathed in warmth.  The original intention had been to spend day 2 hiking up Snowdon but I told Arthur on the way up the mountain we would check into a B&B because our kit was in a total state and a second day didn’t look feasible.  But now Snowdon could be back on.  The sun was increasingly strong.

We headed straight to the pub near the car park for tea and chips and warmed ourselves in front of a fire.  Back at the car we stripped off all our wet kit.  I spread it over almost every inch available.  We climbed in, ate more sweets, cake, crisps and drank fizzy.  We fell asleep in the back looking out of the boot over the mountains.  We were knackered.  After a couple of hours we woke to find the sun had dried our kit.  We were addicted and wanted more.  Snowdon was on!!