Day 11 - Ben Nevis

My legs are aching, my feet are blistered, my arms are covered with midge bites, my ears are peeling from sunburn and wherever we go it just wont stop raining. But despite all that I'm happy. Just last wednesday Catherine and I set off from Bangor on bikes in a foolhardy attempt to climb the highest peaks in England, Wales and Scotland. And eleven days later we succeeded.

10am said my watch when i finally decided to get up. But even after 10 hours sleep, i hardly felt rested. Ten days of pure exercise takes its toll, and my body knew I was about to give it one more day of punishment. After breakfast (more granola) we gathered our stuff together and set off to climb the mountain on the other side of the valley - Ben Nevis.

Crossing the Nevis river, we took the youth hostel path and, after a couple of kilometers, joined the tourist trail. Already people were descending past us. Many looked like they might be starting the 24 hour three peak challenge and soon be driving south towards Scafell Pike, reaching where we had been 4 days ago in only 5 hours. Others we passed were not so prepared - many were in jeans and trainers, some had no water, no waterproofs and no map. And all these people were complaining bitterly, as if they had not expected the highest mountain in the country to be so far uphill.

After 40 minutes of climbing we had become bored of whinging tourists and mediocre views. Thanks to Catherine's mountaineering knowledge, however, we soon turned off onto an empty path to circle the mountain and ascend along a steep arete from the North East. This turned out to be an amazing route filled with stunning views, steep climbs, strong winds and dangerous scrambles.

At first we swung round one shoulder of Ben Nevis and crossed the deep valley on its northern side. This revealed the Ben's amazing north face, a wide vertical lump of granite dropping at least 500m vertically down from the summit. We, however, were climbing a rather more gentle slope on the opposite side. 'More gentle' is hardly doing the route justice - we must have gained around 500m of altitude along 45-degree slopes covered with loose scree and damp, boot-consuming bogs. Although the sun had been trying its best to come out at this point, by the time we reached the top of the ridge the wind was blowing a gale and dense white cloud was periodically being blown over the whole valley.

After lunch in a sheltered hollow we climbed up towards the top of the ridge - a Munro (3000-foot tall scottish mointain) called Carn Mor Dearg, or CMD to those in the know. Up on top the wind had picked up to extraordinary levels, like sticking your head out of a car window on the motorway. We began to reconsider our route. Ben Nevis, which loomed a mile across the valley, was only reachable along a narrow arete, a dangerous feature to cross in such conditions. On each side of the exposed arete were nearly-vertical 400m drops.

But, after a local dog-walker reassured us the path would not be dangerous if we were careful, we decided to take the risk and scramble across the arete. Climbing down from CMD the wind dropped and we found the loose path along the precipice. At first the drops on each side lodged an anxious sense of vertigo in my mind - one wrong foothold and it could be my last. Occasionally the clouds would draw in below us, obscuring the valleys on either side. This gave the impression of an infinite drop into clouds- an even scarier ordeal. However, as the rocky scramble across the arete went on, the anxiety passed and soon I was able to revel in the sheer thrill of it all. It truly was an awesome sight, with Ben Nevis rearing its bulky granitic head to the South West and the occasional view down into deserted mountain valleys on either side. The strong winds and swirling clouds also gave a surreal atmosphere to the place.

Having regretfully finished the arete and had a brief play in the snow still present in Ben Nevis's shadow, we climbed the final 300m to the summit. It was a contrast from the lonely route we had just taken, with dozens of unprepared tourists and the unavoidable mess left behind from such swarms of people. At least the summit was not clouded over, as was the case for every other mountain in the area. Rather than seeing a vista of steep mountains, we saw a rolling layer of clouds, each following the terrain below.

Our 19km hike to the summit of Ben Nevis via the CMD arete

After taking a few pictures and munching a handful of chocolate digestives we found the tourist trail again and started the descent. After only a few hundred metres the clouds descended and the rain began, making the next hour of steady tramping a tedious, view-less affair.

It is four hours later and the rain has not stopped. We ate take-away Haggis & chips sheltered in our tiny 2-man tent and found the nearest pub, more for a proper sit down in a dry room than for anything else. Scotland certainly doesnt do things by halves; mountains and rain included.

And so, with the 1344m of Ben Nevis done and added to the 1048m of Snowdon and 978m of Scafell Pike, we have succeeded in climbing the national three peaks by unassisted human power. As far as I know (and trust me, I haven't checked) the 9 days and 23 hours from the summit of Snowdon to the summit of Ben Nevis is a New Record. Not bad for a two-week holiday.

Until tuesday we are in the highlands doing more hiking and possibly some mountain biking/canoeing. However this will probably be the final blog post from me - I have wasted enough phone battery so far this trip on the things. What will happen, though, is that I will go back through these blogs and edit them with route maps and more pictures and anecdotes, simply for my own pleasure. I may also add a post on the do's and dont's of cycle touring. So stay tuned for that and in the mean time- go break a record, even if you only just made it up.

Stats:
Distance walked: 19km