So, at 8:00am, we set off "mountain walking." It ended up being a 6 hour "walk" covering 7 miles and about 1200m on trail that looked like this:
or this:
then again, it also sometimes looked like this:
or this:
then again, it also sometimes looked like this:
And we ended up being forced to turn around about 3/4 of the way from the top when the trail disappeared completely. Maps and insider-info had led us to believe that the trail was genuinely treacherous if you weren't confident in your navigating skills, and not knowing when the weather would turn, it seemed like the time to head back. The following didn't seem like a good email to have to send to St. George:
Dear George,
Trapped in blizzard on Ben Nevis. Can we have extensions on the response paper?
You think I'm kidding about the blizzard. The weather, like the trail, was unbelievably bizarre and varied. We started out with a cold, foggy morning. We had been told scary things about watching out for visibility, but the fog burned off quickly, so we weren't terribly worried. Then it started to rain. Fair enough, we are still in Britain after all. Then it started to snow. Which was bizarre, but so far so good. We reached a
part of the trail that was incredibly rocky and getting a little slick because of the snow. It was slow going, but what was more worriesome was the prospect of going back down, in the snow. We considered turning around, but we didn't want to give up yet and could see some sunshine just over the other side of the "hill." We did eventually reach that sunshine, and also the full realization of how high we had climbed. And it was cold. Cold enough for a snowball fight.
After turning around, D and I took a side jaunt to the lake which marks the halfway point to the summit- aptly named halfway lochen (Ben Nevis may or may not mean big mountain.). The trail was much more crowded as we descended, a lot of people who had started at a more reasonable hour going up. Everyone was incredibly friendly, wanting to know if we had made it to the top. We met several very happy looking dogs, and a Canadian with a superman t-shirt and dubious leadership skills (he seemed genuinely torn between waiting for his group to catch up and not).
When we got back to the hostel we took showers strategically--hot water being a somewhat rare commodity--and actually took several hour long naps. I think we all intended to just read or something until dinner, but two 7am trains and a 6 hour hike will out.
The trip back to London the next day was nearly uneventful. Nearly. The taxi service we had found (yes, the one we found out after walking two hours to find the second hostel) lead us to believe that it was a 24 hour service. That may be, but apparently 6:45 am is a 25th hour we don't know about. We realized by about 6:50 that we weren't going to be able to get a taxi, and fortunately had bugeted enough extra time to merit not totally panicking. So we sped-walk about 2 miles to the train station (did I mentioned we hiked 7 the day before?) and miraculously made it to the train with 20 minutes to spare.
Jeepers!
Love,
The Mouse
Dear George,
Trapped in blizzard on Ben Nevis. Can we have extensions on the response paper?
You think I'm kidding about the blizzard. The weather, like the trail, was unbelievably bizarre and varied. We started out with a cold, foggy morning. We had been told scary things about watching out for visibility, but the fog burned off quickly, so we weren't terribly worried. Then it started to rain. Fair enough, we are still in Britain after all. Then it started to snow. Which was bizarre, but so far so good. We reached a
part of the trail that was incredibly rocky and getting a little slick because of the snow. It was slow going, but what was more worriesome was the prospect of going back down, in the snow. We considered turning around, but we didn't want to give up yet and could see some sunshine just over the other side of the "hill." We did eventually reach that sunshine, and also the full realization of how high we had climbed. And it was cold. Cold enough for a snowball fight.
After turning around, D and I took a side jaunt to the lake which marks the halfway point to the summit- aptly named halfway lochen (Ben Nevis may or may not mean big mountain.). The trail was much more crowded as we descended, a lot of people who had started at a more reasonable hour going up. Everyone was incredibly friendly, wanting to know if we had made it to the top. We met several very happy looking dogs, and a Canadian with a superman t-shirt and dubious leadership skills (he seemed genuinely torn between waiting for his group to catch up and not).
When we got back to the hostel we took showers strategically--hot water being a somewhat rare commodity--and actually took several hour long naps. I think we all intended to just read or something until dinner, but two 7am trains and a 6 hour hike will out.
The trip back to London the next day was nearly uneventful. Nearly. The taxi service we had found (yes, the one we found out after walking two hours to find the second hostel) lead us to believe that it was a 24 hour service. That may be, but apparently 6:45 am is a 25th hour we don't know about. We realized by about 6:50 that we weren't going to be able to get a taxi, and fortunately had bugeted enough extra time to merit not totally panicking. So we sped-walk about 2 miles to the train station (did I mentioned we hiked 7 the day before?) and miraculously made it to the train with 20 minutes to spare.
Jeepers!
Love,
The Mouse
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