A SNOWDON DAY OUT - Ian's account of the day!
The names of people and places in this story are true, so that when you see them you can laugh at them.
The day started at 3.50 am we are all woken by our team leader Bev who in no uncertain terms says get your arse out of bed and in the car. We drive to our first path, which is the Watkin Path.
We are 6 people who are going to do 6 paths and touch the peak of Snowdon 3 times in 24 hours.
Bev, Steve and Kate are all keen walkers, go out regularly, Karl is 26 and has youth on his side and has been training on his bike for the last six weeks. Then there's Damien and me who until two months ago were quite happy just working and spending the odd evening in the local pub getting plastered.
This is our merry group as we set off very amicable at 4.45 up the first path.
On the way up Damien says that the path is nothing more than a dirt road and he could quite happily plod on all day. Steve has shot off like some demented Austrian with his Leder Hosens on fire, which we knew he would anyway.
On the way up we get to see the sunrise at around 6-6.30, it is magnificent and a pleasant reward for what we are doing. The last few hundred feet of the Watkin Path is a climb, this is the first of our surprises. Damien is finding this stage a little difficult and regretting that he ever started smoking. After much heavy breathing we all reach the top around 7.15 am, there's not a lot of people can say they have climbed a mountain before breakfast, but then why would they! We're all pleased we've done it, Damiens' first time, we are the only ones up there for a few moments until two cyclists turn up who we ask to take our photo. All five smiling faces - Chuffed.
After 10-15 minutes we set off down the P.Y.G. track (P.Y.G. are the initials of Welsh words which no one can pronounce except the Welsh our leader informs us).
Steve is long gone by now and our group is splitting up slowly, Damien and I are tailgating and just chatting away the other three are breaking away ahead.
Halfway down the P.Y.G. people are starting to come up they read the t-shirts and wish us well while smirking and thinking fools (in this heat).
By now we are two thirds of the way down and we pass Steve on his second ascent and just treating it like a Sunday stroll. "****ing mad is a collective thought that Damien and I have". But fair play to him is he can maintain the pace.
We finally reach the car park about ten minutes later than the first three and we miss the toilet incident which I'm sure the girls will bore you with it if you ask them. It's about 9.15.
We rest and check our wounds, I seem to be the only one with sore feet. I've definitely got the wrong boots on.
Damien decides not to carry on saying he'll only slow us down so we phone the hotel to come and fetch him and we set off on the second ascent. Spirits are high and Bev is pleased with the time we are making, with Damien going I now become the weak link of the team.
The Miners track has an easy start and as we go up this time Karl shoots off and we plod on chatting away. By the time we reach the third lake along, the path is getting warm so we take advantage of the water and dip our heads in.
We rest before the ascent from the Miners to the P.Y.G. track, the mountain is now filling up with people and we begin to pass people coming back down who we met going up on our first descent. Again they give us their best but still smirk, one bloke says "You must be mad".
By around 12 we make it to the top for the second time. There are more people about this time so it's easy to find someone to take a picture of the happy five still smiling because we're halfway and making good time.
We have refreshments and chat to the staff in the Café who well us they are open till six so we will try and come back for a pint by then.
We now set off down the Ryd Do Do Da Do Ryd Do at least that's what I think Bev said. I'm managing to keep pace the other three take it in turns to take the lead and hang back to keep me company. Not a difficult path, no climbing, we have done the three most difficult apparently. It's not until we reach the bottom that I have an inkling of how tough its turning out to be. We reach a stile and I really struggle to lift my feet up the steps. The quads are aching slightly, we are still wishing people good morning/afternoon and passing the odd pleasantry. We reach the car park at the bottom around three, we try to cadge a lift off some people to try and save a bit of time. They turn out to be a bunch of miserable bastards and Bevs' temper is kicking in so before she tells everyone to **** off we have no choice but to walk to the next path.
It's at this stage that I realise I'm in a lot of pain, sweaty pants are causing sore bollocks and I feel like I'm walking on red-hot coals. Before we start the third ascent up the Snowdon Ranger, Bev applies two blister patches to blisters the size of marbles (very large marbles) and we carry on.
You can see the Snowdon Café on the summit from the start and all I'm thinking is "****, that's a long way away". Every step is accompanied by a silent "****" which our Bev finds amusing, apparently it's a trait my mother has when she's walking in pain. The summit doesn't seem to get any nearer.
Karl and Kate speed off about half way up and Bev is now tailgating, she's had a few moans as her knee popped when we were up at the top.
My bollocks are now so sore that I've taken my shorts off hoping the wind will cool down the offending parts, for the next hour I walk in my pants, the summit looks no nearer. The path is just a walk, no climbing and the pace has been constant, it's now really hot.
Bev doesn't like the fact that she's lagging behind and shouts "Are we trying to break a record", tempers are beginning to fray. She admitted to being tired and it was HOT, we take the opportunity to rest. Stephen texts Bev to say he head reach the peak for the third time and was on his way down. At this stage who gives a ****! We share an energy drink, which does little but gives Bev and Kate a new spurt of life. As the summit draws nearer Karl and me are now tailgating and his knee is really hurting.
We meet a woman who says we look wrecked and when we say we've done it three times she doesn't believe us. I am in no position to talk, I'm not even being polite. Karl and I are laughing in pain. Get to the café, which is shut because it's 6ish, there are still a lot of people at the top. Bev met a bloke who gave us his water, which was a blessing. She insists that we touch the pillar at the top and have our photo shoot. I personally couldn't give a shit, I quit, trouble is I'm at the top and the trains gone so I have no choice but to go down the last path.
It's now just after six and Steve has text to say he's finished, showered and fed and will pick us up when we are down around nine.
It's 6.30 and we set off down the Llanberis track, which again is just a walk but a ****ing long one.
I cannot move without anything below the belly button burning and causing severe pain. I have absolutely no chance of keep up as they slowing gain distance. I'm only taking baby steps and trying not to move the cheeks of my arse, I'm literally mincing down the mountain.
The crew would get ahead and wait for me to catch up but when I caught up I said to carry on because if I stopped there was no way I was going to start again. It's now 8 o'clock and I am nearly on the verge of tears. Karl and Kate have shot off so far in front we can't see them. Bev, bless her is staying back, but even she finds it difficult to walk as slow as me and is always 70 yards in front.
She suggests I put toilet paper between my cheeks to keep them apart, it seemed a good idea at the time till my hands that had been sweating all day touch the delicate area and caused a major stinging pain. Bevs' next idea was to use her headscarf which in hindsight was never a good idea.
Paula rings about now to say her barbecue is going really well and to ask if I am okay - which I'm not.
Halfway down Bev says to rest so I collapse on the side of the path - she's offering to carry my bag which I refuse for two reasons one I'm a man and two its got my water in. Lying on my back I'm seriously thinking about not getting up ever, people pass and show great concern. I am so ****ed, the Llanberis path is unique to all the other paths in as much as you can see it ahead of you all the way down. On the other paths you would have to reach a turning in order to find out how much more you have to do.
So when I finally stood back up I could see ahead how far I had got to walk. Karl and Kate had sent a text to say they were down "Which was Nice". It made my life at that moment very insignificant. We are taking severe pain now and I just want to die. However mustn't grumble! Around now I meet two women who have caught me up and we start chatting.
I tell what I've done and they congratulate me. They can see I'm not too good, they even offer to carry my bag. The chatting passes more time and I soon realise that we are only five minutes from the bottom, it's at this point that our Bev is talking to the woman that Karl and I briefly met at the top that didn't believe us. She was so impressed with our effort that she gave us £20 for Scope that made the last hour of the walk almost worth it.
Stephen had turned up exactly as we finished he instantly became everyone's best friend. We had all got into the car and were absolutely proud of our achievement and rightly so.
The twenty-minute drive gave us all a chance to assess what we had done, we were about six hours behind Stephen. I don't know about anyone else but as I wasn't moving I wasn't in much pain. Bev and Kate looked as though they had just been for a stroll, Karl really looked exhausted, and Stephen of course was as fresh as a daisy, which makes us all sick.
He parked at the hotel and I got out and just collapsed on the tarmac. So relieved to be back, we all had our picture taken on the ground. I really couldn't move my joints were seizing up. I walked through the hotel door a complete wreck, the look of horror on everyone's face when they saw me was a picture with the words "DO YOU CALL THAT A MOUNTAIN?" I collapsed on a stool at the bar. Ursula the hotelier bought us all a drink and all the guests congratulated us.
We sat at the table and drank, ate and one by one we washed and changed. While sitting for an hour my joints and blisters had seized me up and I really couldn't walk straight to the shower.
We sat up and one by one we went to bed. Karl was falling asleep by midnight, Bev and Steve went around 1 am, Kate next and after a few more drinks I followed at 2 in the morning. It was a good job Damien had left because there was no way I could have climbed on to the top bunk, so I just crawled on the bottom and slept like a log.
Woke up at seven and to my surprise I still couldn't walk straight and my feet were still aching. Kate, Steve and Bev seemed fine, Karl and I looked like we'd got bosted arses and struggled to move. Even now on Sunday night I have difficulty in walking we will see if I go to work on Monday because apparently it gets worse twenty four hours after finishing.
It was suggested that we do it all again one year from now to test our level of fitness - that will take about two years to think about.
The names of people and places in this story are true, so that when you see them you can laugh at them.
The day started at 3.50 am we are all woken by our team leader Bev who in no uncertain terms says get your arse out of bed and in the car. We drive to our first path, which is the Watkin Path.
We are 6 people who are going to do 6 paths and touch the peak of Snowdon 3 times in 24 hours.
Bev, Steve and Kate are all keen walkers, go out regularly, Karl is 26 and has youth on his side and has been training on his bike for the last six weeks. Then there's Damien and me who until two months ago were quite happy just working and spending the odd evening in the local pub getting plastered.
This is our merry group as we set off very amicable at 4.45 up the first path.
On the way up Damien says that the path is nothing more than a dirt road and he could quite happily plod on all day. Steve has shot off like some demented Austrian with his Leder Hosens on fire, which we knew he would anyway.
On the way up we get to see the sunrise at around 6-6.30, it is magnificent and a pleasant reward for what we are doing. The last few hundred feet of the Watkin Path is a climb, this is the first of our surprises. Damien is finding this stage a little difficult and regretting that he ever started smoking. After much heavy breathing we all reach the top around 7.15 am, there's not a lot of people can say they have climbed a mountain before breakfast, but then why would they! We're all pleased we've done it, Damiens' first time, we are the only ones up there for a few moments until two cyclists turn up who we ask to take our photo. All five smiling faces - Chuffed.
After 10-15 minutes we set off down the P.Y.G. track (P.Y.G. are the initials of Welsh words which no one can pronounce except the Welsh our leader informs us).
Steve is long gone by now and our group is splitting up slowly, Damien and I are tailgating and just chatting away the other three are breaking away ahead.
Halfway down the P.Y.G. people are starting to come up they read the t-shirts and wish us well while smirking and thinking fools (in this heat).
By now we are two thirds of the way down and we pass Steve on his second ascent and just treating it like a Sunday stroll. "****ing mad is a collective thought that Damien and I have". But fair play to him is he can maintain the pace.
We finally reach the car park about ten minutes later than the first three and we miss the toilet incident which I'm sure the girls will bore you with it if you ask them. It's about 9.15.
We rest and check our wounds, I seem to be the only one with sore feet. I've definitely got the wrong boots on.
Damien decides not to carry on saying he'll only slow us down so we phone the hotel to come and fetch him and we set off on the second ascent. Spirits are high and Bev is pleased with the time we are making, with Damien going I now become the weak link of the team.
The Miners track has an easy start and as we go up this time Karl shoots off and we plod on chatting away. By the time we reach the third lake along, the path is getting warm so we take advantage of the water and dip our heads in.
We rest before the ascent from the Miners to the P.Y.G. track, the mountain is now filling up with people and we begin to pass people coming back down who we met going up on our first descent. Again they give us their best but still smirk, one bloke says "You must be mad".
By around 12 we make it to the top for the second time. There are more people about this time so it's easy to find someone to take a picture of the happy five still smiling because we're halfway and making good time.
We have refreshments and chat to the staff in the Café who well us they are open till six so we will try and come back for a pint by then.
We now set off down the Ryd Do Do Da Do Ryd Do at least that's what I think Bev said. I'm managing to keep pace the other three take it in turns to take the lead and hang back to keep me company. Not a difficult path, no climbing, we have done the three most difficult apparently. It's not until we reach the bottom that I have an inkling of how tough its turning out to be. We reach a stile and I really struggle to lift my feet up the steps. The quads are aching slightly, we are still wishing people good morning/afternoon and passing the odd pleasantry. We reach the car park at the bottom around three, we try to cadge a lift off some people to try and save a bit of time. They turn out to be a bunch of miserable bastards and Bevs' temper is kicking in so before she tells everyone to **** off we have no choice but to walk to the next path.
It's at this stage that I realise I'm in a lot of pain, sweaty pants are causing sore bollocks and I feel like I'm walking on red-hot coals. Before we start the third ascent up the Snowdon Ranger, Bev applies two blister patches to blisters the size of marbles (very large marbles) and we carry on.
You can see the Snowdon Café on the summit from the start and all I'm thinking is "****, that's a long way away". Every step is accompanied by a silent "****" which our Bev finds amusing, apparently it's a trait my mother has when she's walking in pain. The summit doesn't seem to get any nearer.
Karl and Kate speed off about half way up and Bev is now tailgating, she's had a few moans as her knee popped when we were up at the top.
My bollocks are now so sore that I've taken my shorts off hoping the wind will cool down the offending parts, for the next hour I walk in my pants, the summit looks no nearer. The path is just a walk, no climbing and the pace has been constant, it's now really hot.
Bev doesn't like the fact that she's lagging behind and shouts "Are we trying to break a record", tempers are beginning to fray. She admitted to being tired and it was HOT, we take the opportunity to rest. Stephen texts Bev to say he head reach the peak for the third time and was on his way down. At this stage who gives a ****! We share an energy drink, which does little but gives Bev and Kate a new spurt of life. As the summit draws nearer Karl and me are now tailgating and his knee is really hurting.
We meet a woman who says we look wrecked and when we say we've done it three times she doesn't believe us. I am in no position to talk, I'm not even being polite. Karl and I are laughing in pain. Get to the café, which is shut because it's 6ish, there are still a lot of people at the top. Bev met a bloke who gave us his water, which was a blessing. She insists that we touch the pillar at the top and have our photo shoot. I personally couldn't give a shit, I quit, trouble is I'm at the top and the trains gone so I have no choice but to go down the last path.
It's now just after six and Steve has text to say he's finished, showered and fed and will pick us up when we are down around nine.
It's 6.30 and we set off down the Llanberis track, which again is just a walk but a ****ing long one.
I cannot move without anything below the belly button burning and causing severe pain. I have absolutely no chance of keep up as they slowing gain distance. I'm only taking baby steps and trying not to move the cheeks of my arse, I'm literally mincing down the mountain.
The crew would get ahead and wait for me to catch up but when I caught up I said to carry on because if I stopped there was no way I was going to start again. It's now 8 o'clock and I am nearly on the verge of tears. Karl and Kate have shot off so far in front we can't see them. Bev, bless her is staying back, but even she finds it difficult to walk as slow as me and is always 70 yards in front.
She suggests I put toilet paper between my cheeks to keep them apart, it seemed a good idea at the time till my hands that had been sweating all day touch the delicate area and caused a major stinging pain. Bevs' next idea was to use her headscarf which in hindsight was never a good idea.
Paula rings about now to say her barbecue is going really well and to ask if I am okay - which I'm not.
Halfway down Bev says to rest so I collapse on the side of the path - she's offering to carry my bag which I refuse for two reasons one I'm a man and two its got my water in. Lying on my back I'm seriously thinking about not getting up ever, people pass and show great concern. I am so ****ed, the Llanberis path is unique to all the other paths in as much as you can see it ahead of you all the way down. On the other paths you would have to reach a turning in order to find out how much more you have to do.
So when I finally stood back up I could see ahead how far I had got to walk. Karl and Kate had sent a text to say they were down "Which was Nice". It made my life at that moment very insignificant. We are taking severe pain now and I just want to die. However mustn't grumble! Around now I meet two women who have caught me up and we start chatting.
I tell what I've done and they congratulate me. They can see I'm not too good, they even offer to carry my bag. The chatting passes more time and I soon realise that we are only five minutes from the bottom, it's at this point that our Bev is talking to the woman that Karl and I briefly met at the top that didn't believe us. She was so impressed with our effort that she gave us £20 for Scope that made the last hour of the walk almost worth it.
Stephen had turned up exactly as we finished he instantly became everyone's best friend. We had all got into the car and were absolutely proud of our achievement and rightly so.
The twenty-minute drive gave us all a chance to assess what we had done, we were about six hours behind Stephen. I don't know about anyone else but as I wasn't moving I wasn't in much pain. Bev and Kate looked as though they had just been for a stroll, Karl really looked exhausted, and Stephen of course was as fresh as a daisy, which makes us all sick.
He parked at the hotel and I got out and just collapsed on the tarmac. So relieved to be back, we all had our picture taken on the ground. I really couldn't move my joints were seizing up. I walked through the hotel door a complete wreck, the look of horror on everyone's face when they saw me was a picture with the words "DO YOU CALL THAT A MOUNTAIN?" I collapsed on a stool at the bar. Ursula the hotelier bought us all a drink and all the guests congratulated us.
We sat at the table and drank, ate and one by one we washed and changed. While sitting for an hour my joints and blisters had seized me up and I really couldn't walk straight to the shower.
We sat up and one by one we went to bed. Karl was falling asleep by midnight, Bev and Steve went around 1 am, Kate next and after a few more drinks I followed at 2 in the morning. It was a good job Damien had left because there was no way I could have climbed on to the top bunk, so I just crawled on the bottom and slept like a log.
Woke up at seven and to my surprise I still couldn't walk straight and my feet were still aching. Kate, Steve and Bev seemed fine, Karl and I looked like we'd got bosted arses and struggled to move. Even now on Sunday night I have difficulty in walking we will see if I go to work on Monday because apparently it gets worse twenty four hours after finishing.
It was suggested that we do it all again one year from now to test our level of fitness - that will take about two years to think about.
I will be thinking of them while I sit curled up on the sofa with a nice cup of tea 
Please, if he sends any more funny post cards or accounts like this please post them.
