7 peaks in 7 days

Whose bright idea was this?

Prologue

Throughout the first 6 months of 2010, I had been passionately and busily fundraising for the National Autistic Society.  I had chosen this cause because my nephew, Peter, was diagnosed with autism in 2007, and I wanted to do what I could to raise awareness for the condition.  In August I was due to trek in the Himalayas for 5 days.  On the Monday before I was due to set off, I got a phone call to say that the trip was in jeapordy.  There had been severe flooding in the area, causing widespread damage and fatalities.  I was shaking when I took the call, because it meant the whole thing I had committed myself to was being taken away from me.

I spoke with the organising group every day that week, finding out the latest.  In the back of my mind, I started to wonder whether there was an alternative, a 'plan B'.  There was the option of climbing  mountains in the UK, which I could organise at the drop of a hat.  Throughout my preparation for the Himalayas, I'd learned to organise myself, to navigate the roads and the peaks of the UK.

With the trip still on, I sketched out a rough plan, to climb the National 3 Peaks: Snowdon, Scafel Pike and Ben Nevis – with a few others chucked in for good measure.  On the Thursday, the Himalayan trip was cancelled officially.  I was gutted. 

However, I was determined not to let all of the fundraising go to waste, and to do something that was a tribute to the cause.....

I put a plan into action, to climb 7 peaks in 7 days.

The plan

Day 0:Sun 15^th Aug: Drive to the start in Aviemore

Day 1:Mon 16^th Aug: Climb Carn Ban Mor (Scot): 1052m altitude – then drive to Ben Nevis

Day 2:Tues 17^th Aug: Climb Ben Nevis (Scot): 1344m altitude

Day 3:Wed 18^th Aug: Drive to and climb Ben Lomond (Scot): 974m altitude – then drive to the Lake District
Day 4:Thu 19^th Aug: Climb Skiddaw (Eng):931m altitude
Day 5:Fri 20^th Aug: Climb Broad Crag (Eng):934m altitude
Day 6:Sat 21st Aug: Climb Helvellyn (Eng):950m altitude, then drive home to Wigan
Day 7:Sun 22nd Aug: Drive to and climb Snowdon (Wales):1085m altitude, then drive home to Wigan

Sunday, 15^th August 2010 – Drive to Aviemore

All I remember about this drive was I spent most of the time stopping, because I needed a wee!  I was drinking that much water, to stay hydrated for the challenge, that it was just going though me!

I arrived in Aviemore at about 4 o clock in the afternoon, and drove to the climb start point for the following day, to 'get my barings'.  That was a good feeling, because I felt I could relax for the rest of the Sunday night.

In the evening, I ate Sunday Dinner in my hotel, and then retired to my room.  I spent the night watching 'Wedding Crashers', feeling fraught with anxiety about the week ahead.

What had I got myself into?  To climb just one of these peaks is tough, but to do one EVERY single day for a week? 

People talk about positive mental attitude and self-belief as being important.  But I can tell you, that on that Sunday night, I honestly didn't know if I was gonna be able to do it.  I'd watched the start of Eddie Izzard's challenge that morning on youtube.  I pondered whether, at the start, he honestly thought he could do it?  Or, did he not even consider it?

I turned the TV off at 10 o'clock, but lay in bed feeling anxious and restless.  In the middle of the night, I prayed to God, just for peace of mind.

I have never felt as lonely and as anxious about something as I did that night. 

Monday, 16^th August 2010

I woke up feeling miles better, and so, so eager to get going.

Like I said earlier, I wanted every single bit of preparation going, so passed up a full scottish.  Brown toast and muesli was the breakfast of choice.

I paid my hotel bill, and drove to the mountain start point for the day.  Day one was Carn Ban Mor, a 1000m peak.  I'd climbed it the year before on holiday.

It was so satisfying to finally get going, although I felt like my rucksack was too heavy.  In just two hours, I'd made it to the summit, to a completely overcast view.  Darn it!  After a quick lunch and rehydration, I set off back down the peak.

As I was soon to learn that week, descending is miles easier than ascending.  I know that may have sounded obvious, but it makes a massive difference.  In my five hours of being out on the trek (by this time I hated the word 'trek'), 2 hours were spent uphill, half an hour break, and then 2 and a half descending.  Going uphill is tiring, makes you sweat and is knackering.  Going downhill is different; You still need to keep hydrated and do all the right things, but it is easier.

On my way down, I felt as though day one was done and dusted, and could start to think about tomorrow's challenge, Ben Nevis.

I drove to Fort William which took roughly an hour and a half.  Like the previous night, I drove to where the following day's adventures would begin, to 'get my bearings'.  As I dove to the foot of the mountain, the thing seemed incredible.  All but the bottom 300m of it was completely covered in cloud.  It was as though Nevis was saying to me, "Today was nothing compared to what tomorrow's challenge will be like!"  A walker told me in the car park, "It took us eight hours today, you'll need plenty of water."

Fully realising what lay ahead for me the next day, I headed for the night's hotel to rest.

Tuesday, 17th August 2010

After waking up at quarter to six, I set off on the day's challenge at roughly half 7 (the hotel was about half an hour from the start point).  There was only one car in the car park that morning, which meant I must have been the second person to have set off to climb Ben Nevis that morning.

If there was ever a day to completely focus, it was this day.  Embarking on a feat like climbing Britain's highest mountain is challenging in itself.  However, to do it followed by another 5 days of hiking peaks could have overwhelmed me.  Luckily, I had learnt that the wisest thig to do was to completely focus om just today.  At the end of the day, I could be back at the hotel, completely resting and relaxed.  Plus, this was Britain's highest mountain I was climbing.  I knew noone who had ever done it.  This was going to be a special accomplishment.

It took about 2 hours of ascending to meet someone on the path to the top.  It was hard work, but I also knew that I was doing something special.  Again, like yesterday, I knew that even though it would take 3 hours plus to descend back down, once I'd got to the top, that would mean that the majority of the day's work was done.

Ben Nevis is 1344 metres tall.  The second 650m of ascent is all on a zig-zag path.  It was a matter of head-down, listen to rock music, and keep going.  Serious hard work.

This was day two of Scottish mountain climbing, and to be honest it was hard doing it all on my own,  a long way from home.  This was the toughest day,  and I had to dig real deep to keep going.  In my thought process, I remember thinking, 'What is keeping me going?'

We live in a world of material pleasures.  But what was keeping me going were the people that were closest to me: my family and best friends.  Durig the long slog, my sister, Carla, texted me: 'Just keep going, one foot in front of the other. x'. My heart poured out with love for her because it was like she knew what I was going through.  I texted her back a simple text: 'I love you x.'. What I'd learned was what matters most, the people you love.

After 3 and 3/4 hours of long slog, I eventually made it to the top of Ben Nevis. 

On my way down, a moment came when the cloud lifted, and I was treated with the most spectacular view.  It was incredible.  Then, I had a nice surprise.  My phone rang, and it was my dad on the phone!  He rang to say he'd meet me the next night in Penrith.  To see one of my family was going to be a real treat, something special to look forward to. 

I had almost got back to the van, when I realised I was close to making it in 7 and a half hours.  I ended up running the last five minutes, but missed it by a minute!  Day two done, well chuffed.

That night was a good rest because I had nowhere I had to drive to.  I was back at the hotel for four o'clock.  I had terrible chaffage!  At the spar, I bought every kind of lubrication going: vaseline, sudocrem and moisturising cream, not to mention bath soak and shower gel.  My body and muscles craved a long hot soak and a rest. 

The next day would require a 2 and half hour drive to Ben Lomond, a climb, then a 3 hour drive to Penrith.  But it would also end up with getting to see my dad.

Wednesday, 18th August

I was exhausted when I woke up.  It was demoralising to have to drive to Ben Lomond.  I just wanted to get going.

It was 10am by the time I'd started my ascent of Ben Lomond.  It was a close, warm day. 

This would prove to be an incredibly tough day.  Do you know those times when you keep checking your watch impatiently?  This day was just like that.  The path I'd chosen to get to the summit was a nightmare.  I constantly checked my GPS to see how far I'd hikex, and the hike was frustatingly slow. 

By the time I was close to the top, my legs were filling with lactic acid, and I had to take frequent breaks, which was completely demoralising.  Forget 7 peaks.  How was I even going to climb another day?  As I summitted my 3rd peak, it seemed near impossible to climb a forth peak, let alone seven.

On my way down, I realised a big thing.

Sports coaches and the media speak constantly about the fear of failure.  However, despite came next, I had just climbed 3 peaks in 3 days.  Should I have really considered the fear of failure?  Should I have considered the fact that I may not achieve my goal, that I may not be able to summit 7 peaks in 7 days?  For me, fear doesnt seem to be a good motivator at all.  Never before had I climbed 3 peaks in 3 days.  The other climbers at the summit were impressed with my achievement.  That was what I was going to hang my hat on.  Achievement was a far more powerful motivator than fear.

Glad to be back at the van, it was comforting to know that, after 3 long days in Scotland, I was driving back to England.  Even though I still had four peaks to go, to be closer to home was a comforting feeling.

After 3 long and quite frankly, lonely days, to see my dad in Penrith for tea that night was very emotional and completely over-whelmed me.  It gave me a much-neede boost.

I was now at my Penrith accomodation.  The next day would see me climb Skiddaw and then drive back to my digs.  I would have hardly any driving to do at all.

Thursday 18th August

Skiddaw was a complete contrast to the previous day.  Overall, it only took four hours to get to the top and then back down again.  It was such a relief knowing that, afterwards, there was no driving to do.  The peak was only about twenty minutes away from my accomodation, a real luxury. 

On my way to the top, I started to realise how big my challenge was.  This might sound shocking, but if I failed, did it really matter?  I think sometimes we get it wrong, that we are scared of daring to undertake big ventures, because we're scared we'll fail.  But maybe we've got it wrong?  Maybe when we dare to dream to something, thats the most important thing.

On my climb that day, I met a wonderful family,  who were most supportive of my challenge.  When you're out mountain-walking, you always bump into people.  It seems like the often unsaid thing is, "So you're as mad as me then?". However, by this stage, I had an interesting story to tell.  This was my 4th peak in 4 days.  The family were wonderful and gracious enough to sponsor me online a few days later.  What wonderful people they were.

By the time I reached the van again, I was amazed to see that my hiking was done by 1pm!  With nowhere to drive to, I could completely relax.  I was in a much, much more positive frame of mind than the previous day.

The following day would see me head for Scafel Pike, accompanied by brother-in-law and good friend Frank.

I completely filled up on goodies at the shop and headed back for the hotel.

That night, anxiety crept in.  I really started to miss home.  Three mountains left,  but it still seemed like the finish line was really quite distant.  I was fed up, and homesick.

Friday 20th August

This day turned out to be the most enjoyable.  The weather was horrendous.  I mean really bad.  Frank arrived at the hotel, and we set off for Scafel Pike.

I can't emphasise this enough.  Having Frank hike with me was such a boost to morale.  We set off under torrential rain.  If this had been any other day, there was no way anyone would have seriously attempted to summit England's highest mountain.  I mean seriously.  It was cats and dogs.

Frank kept checking with me in the first hour, "Are you sure this is a good idea?". This was a case of sheer determination. Or stubbornness.

The weather cleared later on, but we never made it to the top of the Pike.  We got to a point where it would have been just too dangerous to go any further.  We reached 900m altitude, but even an experienced walker who we met on the descent said that it would have been reckless. 

That night, I contemplated my 'failure'.  I hadn't climbed the 5 peaks in 5 days that I said I would.  However, we'd been out for 9 hours, got extremely close, and only had to turn back because the weather conditions left the situation ridiculously dangerous.  We had, nevertheless, reached Broad Crag, which in itself was a peak.

The next day would see me climbing Helvellyn and then driving home to Wigan for the night.

Saturday 21st August

I was so giddy by the morning.  Just 2 peaks left.  I would be spending the night in my own bed.  After 6 long days away from home, feeling exhausted and mentally drained, to be heading home was an awesome feeling.  Plus, in something like 30 hours the whole thing would be done.

I'd climbed Helvellyn twice during my training during the year, so knew the route like the back of my hand.  I was in such a great mood on the way up.  It was brilliant.  Only 2 peaks to go. I was invincible!

With the finish line in sight, the whole ascent and descent only took 4 and a half hours.  I knew I was gonna be able to do it.  My legs were tired, bu what was gonna stop me now?  I knew that the next day, all I had to do was get to the top of Snowdon.  If I could get to the top, then I could easily saunter down.  And the only way I could possibly not make it now, was if I literally couldn't take another step. 

Sunday, 22nd August

This was it.

I'd spent the night in my own bed, and then set off on the drive to Snowdon.  I absolutely knew with conviction that, with the finish line in sight, nothing could stop me.  Nevertheless,  I felt sad because this was the end of my own adventure.  It had been tough, the hardest thing I'd ever done, but I'd never lived so much.  What an adventure!

The final day's climb was made even tougher, due to the fact the car park was full.  An extra hour was added onto the day by parking 2.5 miles away from my original start point. 

Snowdon is an intriguing mountain.  It's the one mountain in the country which is completely 'touristified'.  There's a train to the top, a tourist centre at the top and bottom.  This was the middle of the Summer.  The place was heaving.  Quite a contrast to a foggy Ben Nevis morning, or a lake district day like Friday with torrential downpours.  This was the 'Alton Towers' of mountains.  You could buy a key ring at the top from the gift shop.

With so many other walkers out,  it was crucial to be comfortable pace.  How many of these other hikers had just spent the last week on their feet?

During the first 45 minutes of climbing Snowdon, it is a big steep slog.  I put my head down, and really went for it.

The place was so busy, that by the time I got to the top, there was a queue to get your photo taken.  There was no way, however, I was gonna miss out on another shot of triumph, with my NAS shirt on. 

During the descent, I had time to feel proud inside about my achievement, and reflect on my week's adventures.

Epilogue

That night, I celebrated with a couple of pints at a local with my mates.  The next day, my sister, Carla, had arranged one final day of trekking, a walk to our local nature reserve with my nephew, Peter, who had autism.  He wanted to run around the entire pond.  My knees werent't quite up to it!

I'd done it, 7 peaks in 7 days for autism.  I'd like to finish with one of my favourite quotes by George Mallory.