I was going to write a separate post on this but feel that Graeme has done this excellent testimony to the various hill-crimes perpetrated yesterday.
I do recall asking Graeme as we entered the snow-line "How's your hill-sense?" We both agreed it was pretty good.
The climb up to the summit was a lot steeper than I had envisaged. Add to this, a ferocious wind, coruscating snow and hail and we were lucky if we waited 30 seconds at the summit. However, gone were the wrinkles on my face - in fact, gone was my face. I felt at one point that my face was being ripped off by tiny needles being driven in by God. I think by the time we got back to the car, I had uttered every profanity known to man and some new versions currently being looked up by experts on sweardom everywhere.
I clearly remember looking back at Graeme on the descent to find he was on his hands and knees - obviously fixing his crampons but for one fleeting moment, I thought he may have been greetin'. I thought I'd join in. Tears and snotters everywhere.
An atrocious day. Furthermore, by the time I got home, her wifiness was not impressed by my late arrival and my steak pie had been left to cool to -273 Kelvin. At least the Ossian was cold. And as I look back in the warmth of home, a part of me deep-down actually quite enjoyed it....
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- Graeme thinks "I'm sure I saw Kev around here...."
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- Graeme at the summit - he's the one on the left
