Well I’ve blogged about the challenge, you know the score on that one so now it was time to put my feet into action and smash this challenge to pieces. I was packed with more food than you could fit in a pair of second hand stretched Marks and Spencers granny nickers….carbs, protein, sugar: all perfectly balanced, individually packaged in handy sized snack bags and stored in my new in-car mobile fridge. I’d trained, I’d hydrated and I was fired up!
A boring five hour car journey and a halfway healthy snackette of KFC at Corley services and I was there. Borra da Simon, arrived at the much loved Betwys-y-Coed for another healthy top up of artery clogging fish and chips before driving on to my stunning five star hotel. I parked my car outside as a pothole nearly ripped my front bumper off. Stepped out of the car into a puddle and admired my select choice. An iconic stone cold grey slab of pre-war prison with dirty windows and an air of concentration camp. Welcome to Pen-Y-Pass Youth Hostel!!!! F**k me, I opened the creaking timber arched door and walked along the echoing empty corridor to a wooden bar called “reception”. Up popped a tall skinny shaven headed Russian man by the name of Boris. After nearly punching him in the face for scaring the shit out of me I said hello and I was glad I was not the only Schindlers list extra in this unwelcoming hovel. I paid my £15 lodge and £3 extra as I wasn’t a member…of what exactly I’m not quite sure! Boris, with his mad staring eye’s and uneasy grin gave me my room key.
In broken English “Room one upstairs end of corridor on left”
“Thanks Boris” I smiled, nervously
Off I set to check out if I had a sea view…or a view….or even a window!! I opened a double locked door and was hit by an essence of sweaty feet mingled with fermented beans and stale body odour. Arrrggghhh, there’s someone in my room!!! Some old f*cker was lying in bed catching forty winks. Fortunately, fully clothed! He opened an eye, the left one, the only one he could open properly and said Borra Da! I think that is Welsh for “You Cock” but I’m not sure? OK, two bunk beds, one small sink, a window and a weirdo. What the hell am I doing!
Moving on swiftly, he seemed a nice chap so after a quick chat I decided he was not an arse intruding banjo playing red neck from Deliverance. That said, I still had visions of me waking up in the middle of the night with him standing over me with a hard on! It scared me, I’m not staying here….. I was transferred to a room on my own, a nice big room with lots of windows, and seven bunk beds and a flip pedal bin which was broken. I was delighted that I had carpet, heavily stained but it was still carpet and this room had curtains, well half torn and hanging off and not big enough to block out the light but curtains are curtains. Despite the absence of weirdo’s rather strangely it still had a smell of sweaty feet mingled with fermented beans and stale body odour. Lush!
I looked at my bed, I looked at the scabby pillow and I looked at the bed sheets….then I threw them on the floor and got my sleeping bag and own pillow out of the car….what a gay I hear you say…but I love my pillow, it smells of my own dribble and ear wax!!
Outside and in the darkness a hairy face suddenly appeared pressed against the dirty glass window. I shit my pants! Fortunately, after the initial shock I realised it was an old school pal and not Boris’s long lost brother from Kazakhstan holding a chicken, a Pamela Anderson fitness DVD and a box of kleenex. Pete, who had seen my facebook update knew roughly where I was and kindly popped in for a very welcome chat and a couple of beers. Nice one mate!
I didn’t sleep much that night, excited about the 6.00am start of the challenge and perhaps just partly worried about being a**e raped by Boris? When I did eventually nod off, it was time to wake up. Don’t you just hate that? Moucken Tucken…..(think that’s Kazakhstani for sweaty ball bags)
Having packed my ruck sack, filled my super dooper 3ltr camel back with 50/50 lucosade and water combo I crossed the road to the start point at Pen-Y-Pass car park. It was only a 30 second walk across the road and yep, true to form, I was late!!! Rob was there waiting for me, the others had disappeared into the darkness to tackle the Pyg track and the wonderful arête of Crib Goch.
The challenge began in earnest; this was going to be fun. Very quickly things went wrong in the form of my rucksack pissing orange sticky fluid all down my back, soaking my Calvin’s and running down my leg like isotonic urine. Forgot to tighten up the bottom tube of my bladder, doh!
Quickly getting back to the track we caught up with the others, quick introduction and up to the ridge. A perfect morning, perfect sky and very little wind for now…..
The Crib’s were smashed, as was Snowdon amid an amazing sight of a summit top Brocken spectre and it was back down a tough route to the valley. By this time the group had split in two and a few were struggling with the pace and old injuries hindering their progress. I was fresh, still pumped and ready for the Glyders, phase II and the toughest part of the challenge.
A wee stop, a refuel and off we set. Another two summits smashed and up to Glyder Fawr and Glyder Fach then….smash!!! The cloud dropped, the wind howled and some of the heaviest vertical driven rain crashed into us. The force was such that if felt like my body was being used as target practice for a bus load of St Trinians with pea shooters. It made me smile…I love the elements, I love the pain they can inflict….I love the rugged mountain weather at its worst.
Naturally, this slowed progress. I was leading the group but had to wait for the others to catch up. We kept a fairly tight bunch but one or two were feeling the pace. To be fair in the best of conditions this section would be really tough, let alone in a squall. Our guide continually advised our times were good and we are on course to make our cut off time of 4.00pm back to the Ogwen Valley. With only Tryfan to summit and then one big decent to the road and the start of phase III.
I began to question these timings. Informed 15 minutes to get up Tyfan and 20 minutes down I thought to myself. WOW, that’ll have to be some going! I was not wrong. I steamed ahead with now only Will for company. We smashed Tryfan, legs burning we virtually run to the summit to meet Adam and Eve, relentless, no stopping. We waited for our guide and another to catch up and planned a monster fast decent, deciding to leave the others as we would never make it otherwise. By now, there were only three of us left.
THIS WAS OVER RULED!!!
We were told to stick together on the grounds of safety which I guess you cannot really go against. We were told we could not descend in twenty minutes to achieve the cut off time of 4.00pm. We were told the challenge was OVER!!! Gutted, disappointed, a little miffed and more than a little annoyed we plodded down, tail between our legs.
The challenge was a 24 hour challenge….we were four hours + ahead of target but Rob had previously set the challenge as a 17/18 hour target….given that completing the final section in the cold, wet and total darkness needed to be done before 2.00am at the latest (fatigue, hypothermia, wanting to go to bed etc)
It took a while to sink in, the time lost faffing around on the Glyders had cost us dear, it had resulted in failure!!!!! I seriously contemplated going on alone but having never traversed the Carneddau, let alone in the dark, against the elements, without a map and whilst physically tired, I declared victory to the clock, not the mountains, not the challenge, not the Welsh 3,000’s but to the clock.
Having collected my worldly possessions from base camp Colditz I headed to the three star hotel where I drowned my sorrows in red wine and sirloin…..I will be back….I will smash these mountains……I will smash the Welsh 3,000 challenge either in a group…or alone!
For those that read this and are considering taking up this challenge: It’s tough…., proper tough. Forget running marathons, that’s easy. For this you need to be mountain fit, proper mountain fit. Good luck, and if you fancy it let me know…I’ll be there!
Moucken Tucken to you all x
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