Run from the hills

I went mountain-climbing over the Easter holidays with a bunch of friends.

Bad idea. Ok, great idea (on flat surfaces like………..paper). I learnt so much just when prepping for it, the kit reqiured alone is quite something. There was the usual parkas, long underwear & boots but there was more; ponchos, gaiters, wads of chocolate, drinking water (silly me, thought we’d simply get that from streams & springs along the way and give the plug ‘bottled at source’ a whole new meaning).

Well you know us guys, we live for these sorts of things just so we have an excuse to splash out on flashy gear that’s promptly lost in the back of the closet once used. I got myself a fiddly freeplay flashlight that  one can wind up by hand or charge from the mains. It has HID bulbs for white light and 2 different settings for brightness. The best part about buying it was the bit when I was talking myself  into it figuring that I’d never have to buy batteries ever again (yeah, right).

Enough with the kit, we had a great time with a wonderful group of people, 3 of them gils who are triple-handely responsible for giving my ego such a hard time that I HAD to make it ot the summit. Sadly I cannot post photos of us going up (or down) because I’d prefer not violate their privacy. Anyway, I clambered up the mountain on a combination of blind ignorance and blithe optimism and cautiously made my way down with sundry cramps and a healthy respect for that piece of rock. Going up was pretty hard, my lungs worked like bellows all through and twice I was on the verge of turning back. Once when I ran completely out of breath and I could feel my body throwing the emergency shutdown switch and another time when I went round a bend along a cliff face only to be greeted by a sheer drop that had me convinced I must’ve had gone round the bend myself when I signed up for the climb.

It was pretty cold, dark and slippery up there. There was snow & ice everywhere so our footing was rather treacherous but with determination and a healthy fear of the razzing that the pansy who dared to give up would get. All seven of us made it to the top eventually but going back down was another experience entirely; we ran completely out of breath, suffered paralyzing cramps and gritted our way through splitting headaches followed by a 12 mile hike to a base camp at a much lower altitude much of it in pitch darkness (the hike and the camp as well). The next day saw a short hike to our pick-up point and it was a quick tumble into the waiting van and a drive back into the world of hot food and hotter showers.

I’d figured that the only was I was going up anything was by elevator but 4 flights of stairs faced us when we got back. Surprisingly they were child’s play compared to where we’d come from.

Now that’s perspective that can only be gained from a mountaintop.

Audiophile: Louis XIV – God killed the queen
Off my shelf: ‘Ducati’ – A history of Ducati Motorbikes in Racing
Midday Matinee: Frankie & Johhny (1991)
Starring: Al Pacino, Michelle Pfieffer
Directed by: Garry Marshall