Snowdon By Night…and the reality…
Whose great idea was it to climb Snowdon, during the night, in brutal wind, heavy rain, and with no sleep? Oh yes, that’s right, it was mine! So, I guess it’s only fair that I’m the person to recount our expedition for the Freestyle website.
Before I begin, I want to say thank you to Naomi House & Jacksplace, our company charity, for organising this event, and Ella Clayton, who tirelessly encourages us Freestylers to get involved. Naomi House & Jacksplace are hospices supporting life limited and life threatened children and young adults from the South and Southeast. They need around £8 million a year to maintain their services, less than 10% of that figure is granted by government despite the essential care they provide, so the vast majority must be fundraised. Please browse their website, I’ve included the link above, I know they would welcome any new corporate partnership enquiries.
At the beginning of each year, since Naomi House & Jacksplace have been our company charity, we’re presented with a schedule of fundraising events. When inspecting this year’s events, the Snowdon Sunrise Walk on the 20th of July rose above the rest. I had previously trekked up Snowdon with my girlfriend, during summer, and it was lovely. Although this time we would be walking in darkness, I was imagining an enthusiastic team of Freestylers skipping up the mountain on a warm summer night, covered by clear and starry skies, finished with a spectacular sunrise vista over Snowdonia. I shared this vision with my colleagues, and quickly assembled a team of six excited volunteers (Harry, Max, Giuseppe, Charlotte, Alice and me), all sharing the responsibility of raising £1,500 for a fantastic charity.
At 1,085 metres above sea level in the northwest of the country, Snowdon is the highest mountain in Wales and is a straightforward climb for any reasonably fit and healthy person. Apart from filling a tank of petrol for the long drive, packing plenty of food, water, waterproof clothes, sturdy boots and a head torch, there’s little needed in the way of preparation. There was a breeziness and quiet confidence amongst the adventurers. Most importantly, we hit our £1,500 fundraising target with a few days to spare – thank you to all those wonderful people who donated.
For the outgoing journey, we split into the two teams, which I labelled ‘A’ and ‘B’ – you can probably guess which team I, the self-elected team captain, put myself in! The drive was straightforward, although I was scolded many times by my fellow A team members, who happened to be my girlfriend, Alice, and sister, Charlotte, for not stopping for an hourly Starbucks! Unfortunately for them, I’m very boring, and their lecturing didn’t deter me from avoiding any unnecessary stops and arriving at the designated meeting point sensibly early.
Even after reaching the destination at 01:10ish after a five-hour drive, spirits remained high within the A-team. We were soon greeted by the arrival of the B-team, who, despite their title, arrived in a similarly positive mood. Gradually, the car park was filling with intrepid fundraisers, all walking to support Naomi House & Jacksplace. Water bottles away, snacks packed, waterproofs on, shoes tightened, headtorches on, we were ready to begin the ascent.
Everyone gathered around our charismatic tour leader, Simon, for the briefing, waterproofs shimmering under the parade of headtorches from the light rain that began a few moments before. Simon gave a remarkable speech, and afterwards I honestly felt as though I could’ve run up Snowdon with a herd of cows on my back. He did mention the possibility of heavy rain and high winds on the mountain, resulting in a change of route for our ascent, but that seemed unlikely considering the gentle drizzle at the time. With one final group holler, we took our first steps towards Snowdon’s summit.
There’s an infamous steep tarmac path at the beginning of the Llanberis Path, but that soon relents into a steadier, stony path. The first few stages were straightforward, as expected for a group with such physical prowess. We were stopping regularly, affording people the opportunity to hydrate, and for me to irritate my colleagues. During an early stop, I had noticed that some trekkers had forgone any waterproofs or even a rucksack, and were literally clothed in joggers and hoodie, gym trainers and carrying a single, small water bottle. I felt very prepared.
Very soon, the weather decided to stop being so kind. The previously innocuous wind and rain became a major hinderance. This was far from the warm summer night I’d expected and felt much more like the depths of February. My colleagues wet, cold and grim faces were a regular reminder of my naivety. The brutal weather was unrelenting and followed us for the next few hours. Stopping became an opportunity for the cold to bite and to feel the water in your boots.
As we continued our steady progress, you could see a broken, snaking line of glinting lights making their way behind. Earlier, we’d made the wise decision to break off with the lead group. The A and B team had settled their differences to form a super group, a bit like McBusted. Bravely, our super group carried on. Further on, we were even passing teams from other charities that had set off a while earlier. This wasn’t a competition, but we were definitely winning.
Visibility was now very poor; the mist was so heavy that you couldn’t see more than twenty metres in front of you. Simon and his volunteer friend, who’s name escapes me but for the purpose of this post, we’ll call him Scott (he was Scottish), were working hard to keep our group as one. Scott’s dog, Brodie, quickly became a beloved mascot. A cross between a collie and a cocker spaniel, he was energetic, agile and his fluorescent jacket adorned with specialised hiking attachments made him look a dog version of action-man. Brodie was a welcome distraction from heavy legs and wet bodies.
We hadn’t even reached the summit, but the inevitable dreaming of breakfast had begun. Those with Apple watches were giving regular status updates of steps, distance walked and heart rate, which although boring, told us we were close. However, it was all too apparent that there would be no stunning sunrise waiting for us at the summit. Even though the skies were lighter, and the weather not so hurtful, our position on the mountain was still shrouded in mist. Our team wasn’t deterred and continued to support each other as we neared the end of our climb.
After a false peak, we walked along the spine of the mountain, to finally reveal Snowdon’s highest point. One by one, we pushed ourselves up the last, sizable steps towards our finish line. I wish I could write a joyous paragraph of the view, and the overwhelming feeling of achievement of reaching the summit, but it was not so. Simon had already said that we would not be stopping for the big group picture, because there was no view to capture, and that we would take snaps of our smaller teams at the summit dial, before swiftly making our descent. So, now much wearier than the beginning, we hurried around the peak, patted each other’s backs, took our picture, contemplated breakfast some more and started our downward journey.
The weather on our way back was infinitely better than the way up, whilst there were no blue skies and sunshine, regular breaks in the clouds revealed beautiful views over the national park, allowing grateful walkers to practice their photography. Sheep that had been sleeping in terrible weather a few hours earlier, were now wondering the damp hills, munching busily on the grass. I think if I were a sheep, I’d like to be a Snowdon sheep.
For a tall person like me, the decline is more painful than the incline. You feel like you’re in a permanent squat which fast becomes irritating but entertaining to watch for those less gangly. Thankfully, stops were less frequent on the way down, and we soon reached the bottom of the mountain. We felt rather smug passing the early morning walkers, having already summited, and received bemused looks for the headtorches that were still sat proudly on our heads.
Our final stop was at a charming hotel, where a hearty bap was waiting for us. After devouring our breakfast and saying thanks and goodbye to our fellow walkers, volunteers and organisers, we dragged our tired bodies back to our cars. It was only when we sat very briefly for breakfast, that the sleep deprivation and miles in the legs truly hit us. If I could describe the feeling, it’s like we’d climbed a mountain, at night, on no sleep. Before setting off in our cars, it would’ve been wise to take a pre-journey nap. Being young and naive, and hearing the call of home comforts, we waived sleep and began driving.
Alice courageously took the first leg of the drive home. I had planned to help with directions, but this is surprisingly difficult when you fall asleep within a few minutes, my sister followed suit in the back. My girlfriend was left, dosed up with dangerous amounts of caffeine, to navigate the first hour of the journey herself, which she did brilliantly. Eventually, the extreme fatigue was too much to bear, and Alice woke me up, desperate for a break. I think I was in the middle of a dream in which I was wondering the Snowdon hills with my fluffy sheep friends.
We pulled over into a tired service station off the A5, locked the car doors from the inside, made ourselves comfortable, and set the iPhone alarm for an hour’s time. The alarm sounded far too abruptly. Nevertheless, the synchronised sleep had alleviated the worst of the tiredness, and we completed the rest of the return drive with two more stops, plenty of fast food, more caffeine, and without incident.
Home was a heavenly site. Our parents were waiting, and we gladly accepted their help unloading the car. It was now 14:30, and I was wondering what the earliest reasonable time I could go to bed was. I remembered a conversation with Harry earlier in the day, where he said he was going to London for a friend’s birthday at 16:00, the same day. Poor, poor Harry.
I take recovery very seriously. That means eating literally everything in sight and sitting on the sofa until I can’t keep my eyes open. For me, that was about 20:00. The JOMO (joy of missing out) I had from going to bed so achingly early, was intensely spiritual.
Despite this melodramatic story, the walk was a brilliant experience, and one that I’d thoroughly recommend to anyone that enjoys adventure. Furthermore, we raised £1,656, contributing to a grand total of £27,863 raised by all participating companies, which is a fantastic result. Perhaps the terrible weather made completing the challenge more rewarding. Having said that, better weather and amazing views would’ve been more than welcome! We enjoyed it so much so, that there’s even whispers of the Three Peaks challenge. I promise not to increase the length of a Three Peaks blog post in equal ratio to the distance walked.
Well done to those who successfully persevered against boredom to reach the end of this novel. That’s arguably more impressive than completing the Snowdon Sunrise Walk itself.
Until the next mountain!
Ben
Please take a look at the our efforts below..!!
