We parked.  It was darker than dark.  Not a soul in sight.  Hadn’t even seen another car for miles.  I put on my headtorch and got out of the car.  Spindly leaves remained on a branch of a tree battling against the coming winter.  It brushed my face – illuminated by my torchlight.  I was certain it was a hand coming out of the trees to grab me.  As unnerving starts go – that was a good one!!

“Do you want to wait and see what the weather does?” “No, let’s just get on with it.” And so it began.  I had selected a route that would take us up the face of the mountain.  The Foxes Path.  It was raining that light misty rain – the sort that seems wetter than usual rain.  It was cold and miserable and foggy.  This seemed to be the normal weather with sunshine being the exception.

Off we went.  Up some hills, round some bends and then fog.  Thicker and thicker it got.  Navigation was a real struggle.  I was quite pleased I didn’t get lost and my confidence took a big boost.  The landscape was amazing although it was a little strange to have not seen a single other person after a more than a couple of hours.  We crossed large fast flowing streams with steep banks, swampy ground and passed a large lake.  We struggled up and over rocky ground to another lake.  A short hike to the start of a scree slope.  Straight up the face via a massive scree slope was the summit.  Arthur and I were both excited.  Up and up we went using hands and feet.  It was a real test.  About 2/3 of the way up the weather took another turn and the wind got stronger and much colder.  We battled on.  I assured Arthur that it was best to get to the top and down the Pony Track rather than try to retreat.  Almost at the top and it was bitterly cold.  I dressed Arthur in all the warm kit we had – several fleeces and two woolly hats (although our gloves were soaked).  We made a huge effort to get to the summit shelter and it was a welcome relief when we did.

I don’t remember what exactly I said as we crashed into the shelter but our fellow hikers obviously thought it was funny.  We took some time to regain our strength.   To get off the mountain I took a bearing from the map using the trig point as our start.  We were cold and tired.  I told Arthur I’d get us off the mountain but we needed to get to the trig point to help me locate the right path.  It wasn’t far – maybe 30m further.  We followed the bearing.  The mountain was really disorientating because I felt we were heading in the wrong direction.  This was one of those times when you need to trust your kit and training.

Down we went meeting several disorientated people who were unsure of their location and without map and compass.  I helped them as best I could.   There were still a couple of turns to navigate but once these were done it was plain sailing all the way out.  We laughed and joked. The further away from the summit we got the more I felt the tension dissipate.  The walk out took longer than expected but the fog was clearing and the temperature was on the way up.

We slept for a bit in the car.  I decided not to do a second day.  Arthur wanted to stay but I had noticed he had a cough as we were driving up.  It was getting worse.  Getting home would be better for him despite him protesting the contrary.   Another summit had been done.  The difficult conditions on a challenging route meant we could both agree this was the hardest mountain thus far.