A word from Guy

I asked Guy to give me a few thoughts on the expedition for the blog:

About fifteen years ago, Paul invited me to join a party attempting a few of the gentler Munros. For a man whose experiences of Scotland were the familiar urban tourist traps of Glasgow and Edinburgh, I anticipated something akin to the Lake District or the Yorkshire Moors.  Standing atop my first Munro, with the beginner’s luck of a rare cloudless day,  I marvelled at the seemingly endless wilderness and wondered whether, halfway up the ridge, I had climbed through the back of some Highland wardrobe and into another country. England had nothing on this. No distant rumble of the M6, no gift shops selling pointless knick-knacks,  no queues, no people, no nothing. I was hooked.

Fast forward ten years: Paul and I had kept our annual date with the Highlands with a dwindling and changing bunch of companions. I’d trudged, slithered, scrambled and sweated my way up and down thirty or so Munros with midge bites and blisters to prove it. Whilst not exactly smug, I was pretty pleased with myself. I was no Kenton Cool but had at least ascended to some comfortable mental base camp. Then Paul, whose concept of a challenge extends beyond a fun run or a dry January, upped the ante.

‘I’m 50 in 2016. I want to climb the Matterhorn and I want you to come with me.’ Before I could think of the hundred sensible reasons to say no, I said yes.

And so began the process of courses at climbing walls, the purchasing of ropes, helmets and ice axes, winter training, lessons in navigation and more ambitious forays into Skye, Ben Nevis and Glen Coe. Paul took to it all like a duck to water, increasing his fitness, changing his body shape dramatically and working through technical challenges with an Aberdonian determination befitting a man from the Granite City. 

Like Ringo or Jamie Murray, I play my part. For a man with arthritic knees, knot dyslexia and a thigh circumference about fifty per cent that of Paul, the sight of him receding into the distance as we tackle a steep incline or bone-jarring descent has become a familiar one.  I have experienced anxiety, fear, pain and fatigue in varying degrees and sometimes simultaneously.

So why do I do it? Because, when suspended on the TD Gap on Skye or tracing my boot along the Inaccessible Pinnacle in search of a foothold, there is nothing in life that matters more.  My inbox, an impending meeting,  the irritation of an unexpected bill.  It’s the only time that none of these distractions is in my head.  The most extreme moments are the ones of greatest clarity.

One day I won’t be able to any of this. Ten years? I’ll be 62. Who knows when the niggles, aches and pains become something more debilitating and where the descent from life’s physical pinnacle reaches the lowlands of old age.  What I do know is that, whenever it happens, no achievements currently surpass traversing the Black Cuillin ridge or climbing Twisting Gully in winter.  A successful attempt on the Matterhorn would form the front cover of my personal scrapbook.

Being in such wilderness can often be a time of introspection, soul-searching and personal challenges.  All of this ignores the single, most important reason why I do it – the companionship. Last August,  I joined Paul on his family holiday in Assynt. One evening, Paul, his daughter Lily and I tramped to a bothy within sight of Suilven, a ridge beautiful even in the context of its stunning surroundings.   Paul had surpassed his high standard of preparation by carrying firewood in his rucksack, so we could light a fire in the small grate. With Lily snug in her sleeping bag, Paul and I poured a generous dram into plastic cups and sat back. For a wordless hour, we watched the sun cast its last shadows over the mountain, as the sky changed from mid to deep, star-pricked blue. The only sound was the occasional spit from an ember.  Conversation, or anything else, was unnecessary. This was life as it should be lived. 

Dodgy weather and dodgy knees

As my national bard said more eloquently than I, "The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft agley"!

So it was for my Scottish winter mountain training expedition on the weekend of 5th Feb.

First of all the sleeper was late into Glasgow, the weather forecast had been grim all week in the run up so maximising time on the hill in reasonable weather was a priority. So after throwing down some breakfast we went to collect the hire car only to find it wasn't going to be available for another hour. So what should have been an 8am departure from Glasgow turned into a 10am one. That will be the last time I use Sixt I have to say.

As we drove north it became clear that our initial plan of climbing Beinn Narnain and Beinn Ime was simply not possible, especially in the dire weather. So after a reassessment we decided to head straight for Glencoe and do a reconnaissance on our ultimate target of Stob Coire nan Lochan. The idea was to walk up into the corrie bowl and have a look at conditions ahead of Saturday's assault.

The snow level was a lot higher than last year and it was clear that conditions in the crags higher up were, as one climber we met put it, "thin".

However, the forecast for Saturday was for colder weather and further snowfall so all was not lost yet, so we returned to the car grateful at least to have got out albeit we were pretty soggy and windswept by the time we checked in at The Clachaig.

There followed a very pleasant evening spent with a Paris based couple who were touring the area, one originally from the Black Isle and the other an American where we enjoyed a few of the numerous beers on offer.

So off we set on Saturday in reasonable weather with it forecast to deteriorate. The first thing that struck me arriving at the car park was how busy it was - we got the last space and it wasn't even 9am! All tooled up, with ropes and other gear we set off passing a few people on the way and seeing climbers well into the distance. After an hour or so it was clear to me that Guy was struggling, despite making better time than the day before. As I caught up with a group who were putting on their crampons and harnesses I took the opportunity of the last bit of shelter from the biting wind to wait for Guy. When he arrived my suspicions were well founded and we agreed to tackle the final slope before the corrie bowl to assess what we might do. On arrival it was the mountain equivalent of Piccadilly Circus!

Guy declared that he couldn't do any climbing at that point, a mixture of pain and loss of confidence faced with the crags and the clear deterioration in the weather conditions, and said he would make his way down on his own. I couldn't let him do that after what happened to Jim last summer so the decision was taken to abort for the day.

The forecast for Sunday was atrocious with gusts of wind at the summit in excess of 80mph and heavy snow. When we awoke the wind was definitely stronger, and sure enough snow was coming down in the Glen. We agreed to head south and revisit our Friday objectives. As we headed across Rannoch Moor the snow started getting very heavy and several times I nearly lost the car despite doing very modest speeds. (grainy pic taken by passenger Guy!)

In all honesty I was grateful to get to Bridge of Orchy without leaving the road. By then the snow had turned to rain but it was hosing down, so we stopped at a nice cafe in Inveruglas and assess the situation. The wind was getting stronger and the Met Office hourly forecast indicated no improvement until 4pm, so we abandoned all thoughts of mountain activity and instead spent the afternoon "date-style" at the Glasgow Modern Art Museum, followed by the rather brilliant, if harrowing Spotlight followed by a curry in the rather marvellous Koh-I-Noor restaurant, before heading back to catch the sleeper back south.

My abiding principle in all my expeditions is that a key element of success is getting home safely and it hit us profoundly as we discovered in the dining car, enjoying a Laphroig, that there had been an avalanche that day, but thankfully no one was seriously hurt!

All in all somewhat disappointing as far as training and practice goes, however, I still feel confident that I am on schedule to reach the summit of The Matterhorn in August.

Fundraising has now started in earnest and details of how to sponsor me can be found on www.MainsersMatterhorn.com

Thanks for your support

Paul

No going back now

Well here it is 2016 and the year I tackle the might of The Matterhorn.

Form here on in I will be posting at least monthly to update progress and bore you all into submission.

During the October half term last year I went with the family to Skye for a week which was fabulous and whilst I didn't do any serious climbing it was good to get out into the hills and enjoy some great weather, including getting sunburned! (Yes you did read that right)

Anyway the festive period is well and truly over and preparations are beginning in earnest. Key dates this year are 1st of Feb (Happy Birthday to me!) when the fundraising launch happens at Lewsey Sports Park to coincide with the 1sts v 2nds of Luton and Dunstable Squash Club. The captains have indulged me with a rather fabulous gift by allowing Lily and Natalie to play in either side at 5th string.

5th Feb 3 days in Glencoe hopefully getting some winter climbing in. Potentially Guy and my first foray into doing it for ourselves so to speak!

Then it's into 10th June where I am going to do the whole Mamore traverse in one hit travelling light.

Finally departure date for Geneva is 17th August and flights are booked and second and penultimate installment has been paid to James our guide, with summit attempts scheduled for either 23rd or 24th!

It's suddenly all very real.

As mentioned elsewhere the whole purpose of this effort is to raise funds for a defibrillator in our club at Lewsey and any surplus going to C-R-Y in memory of Harry Faulkner.

Donations to the former can be made via here when the target of £2,000 is reached then please go here

I would also like to take the opportunity to thank two people who have contributed hugely in kind to the cause with their support. Gary Nisbet of Unique Fitness Solutions for transforming me from a weakling into being complimented as being "strong" by a young woman at the gym which caused me to blush like a teenage virgin. Mohammed Azam who has designed and created this rather fabulous website which has a considerably sexier name than this blog and has facilitated me being able to design a suitable t-shirt

The Glories of Assynt

Just before we departed for our holiday I read this about our destination. It’s considerably more erudite than I could ever be. I am not sure people realise quite how far away Assynt is, but it’s a good 13 hour drive if done continuously from my home and it definitely has an “other worldly” feel to it. We chose to break ours up with an overnight in Glasgow. It was still a relief to arrive at the cottage late on the Saturday afternoon and see my brother and his family who were across from Aberdeen for a few days camping.

I have to be honest and say that the two weeks in splendid isolation was exactly what I needed to recharge the batteries. As if to underline how isolated the area is when we attended Mass, celebrated by the irrepressible octogenarian Monsignor Basil, we doubled the congregation and halved the average age!

Lily and I attempted to go wild camping on Ben More Assynt, but were thwarted as Lily ran out of steam just before the bealach. It speaks volumes of her fatigue that I pitched the tent mid-afternoon and she crawled in, ate her lunch and promptly fell very soundly asleep. Over an hour later she awoke and it was clear that the best option was to head back down, despite her protestations that we could finish the job the next day. It would have been easy to figuratively crack the whip and get us up to the summit, but I wanted Lily to enjoy the experience and want to grow to love the outdoors – we will have many other opportunities to wild camp. Thankfully she appeared to survive the experience with no loss of enthusiasm for future adventure.

I managed to do a bit of climbing on the sea rocks, of which there are many, however, not as much as I had hoped. Guy also visited us and it was during this time we decided to experience a bothy for the first time. Lily was desperate to join us and to be honest I was a bit nervous of taking her given the Spartan nature of their reputation has, so when the opportunity to do a reconnaissance mission presented itself I took it. What a superb place it was, it even had a dart board! 

The walk into the bothy at the base of Suilven was without incident albeit it was very, very windy. We had even managed to pick up a set of darts from one of these wee shops you find in villages that seem to have all sorts of games in them – I could tell they had been in stock for a while with the pictures of Jocky Wilson and John Lowe adorning them! To say Lily was thrilled with the place would be an understatement. I was able to carry in some logs so once it got a bit chilly we got a fire going and after a few rounds of darts (which I won remarkably!) we ate our simple, but delicious pasta dinner. Initially Lily wanted to have one of the rooms on her own, but the solitude and wind led to her bravado deserting her and she asked if I could share her room (sweet!) Guy and I shared a dram of Laphroig watching a beautiful moon pass over Suilven and realising that exactly a year from that point we ought to be summiting The Matterhorn. As Guy pointed out we would be reflecting the night in the bothy when we did that.

I got little sleep as the wind howled but it was a great experience for us all, even to the extent that Lily thought it was the highlight of the holiday and was so effusive that her younger sister wants to go next time as does, even more remarkably, Debbie too!!!! Lily decided not to tackle Suilven the next day as the winds continued to be very strong, so again my ambition for getting height was thwarted, but I couldn’t blame her. Guy gave it ago but had to turn back before the summit and the cloud had dropped so we missed nothing.

Next day was Stac Pollaidh and it’s fair to say I have never experienced so many midges in my life, they were awful. They were so bad that in swallowing some Debs had cause to vomit. Once in the breeze and out of the trees it was much more pleasant and we enjoyed a pleasant stroll around the base, whilst Guy summited the Eastern Buttress before scrambling across the traverse to the higher Western Buttress. In his words, “I could have played up there all day the scrambling was so good!”, no wonder it’s often referred to as Scotland’s best small mountain.

As Guy departed the end of a fabulous break loomed, but not before I visited surely the smallest castle in the world, made of concrete and fits one at a squeeze on the nearby Achmelvich Beach.

Apparently it was built by an eccentric who stayed there one night before abandoning it - all very bizarre.

On the final day I got up Quinag, what a great wee mountain that is too. It proved to me beyond doubt that height isn’t everything. All in all it was a great way to bring the holiday to a close.

Now back in the metropolis that is the South East it’s less than a year until The Matterhorn. Guy and I have a winter expedition planned for February, a summer jaunt (to get out of here when the Queen’s Birthday celebrations are on) next June and a family trip to Skye later this month all part of the training towards the ultimate goal.

As a bit of a footnote, I really wanted to see the recently released Everest in the cinema. Unsurprisingly Lily wanted to go with me, but I was concerned when Natalie also expressed a desire to go. Thankfully that prompted Debs to join us as Nat lasted barely 10 minutes before her upset led first to tears then the exit with her mum and Lily took the opportunity to join her. They grabbed some dinner and Natalie in particular had to be convinced by Wikipedia and other such resources that Everest was considerably bigger than The Matterhorn! Most expensive film I have ever watched, but thoroughly enjoyable as a climber.

Finally, it shouldn’t be too long before the opportunity to sponsor me becomes available, watch this space!

A stark learning experience

As an enthusiastic squash coach I try and encourage any players to learn from the losses. You learn more from a defeat than you do from a victory and this weekend in the Mamores was a classic example.

I have already stated the aim in an earlier blog post, a traverse of The Mamore ridge which takes in 10 Munros. At very late notice Guy and I had a passenger in the shape of an old rugby friend of mine Jim. From the off he had no expectations of being able to tackle the ridge, and was acutely aware that we couldn’t hang around waiting for him once we got going.

The journey through to Fort William went pretty much to plan, however, my first inkling that things may not quite go as planned happened as early as the shopping trip in Morrisions for getting provisions on the hill including our night out. I had to make a longer than expected pit stop and when I returned found that as I queued to pay for mine, the others had already finished and I raised an eyebrow that Guy had not bought anything that needed the stove (I had gone for pasta and a sauce we could have shared – high carb). Being an adult that was his decision but I knew I would want a hot meal when it was late at night and the forecast wind and rain arrived.

So on down into Glen Nevis and conditions were excellent, setting off at 11:20 on schedule and we picked up the initial path very easily until we joined the forestry track, where everything disappeared under an explosion of bark and general forestry waste. We ploughed on slowly until we spotted a style at the other side of the burn, however, that could only be accessed by climbing a fence.  I went first, then Guy, when the post gave way and snapped, challenging Jim to get over. Once over I spotted someone on the ridge and we realised we would have to take on a very steep ascent to get there albeit on decent enough ground. Jim took the sensible decision to part the ways.

Guy and I plodded to the ridge where we met a fellow walker who felt the path up which we had been given was fictitious!!!! So on we went to the first summit, Mullach nan Coirean, passing some snow on the way.

 Back on the gps line I was beginning to feel a bit more confident we could at least knock a hole in the route that evening, albeit I was already very pessimistic that we could make the bealach after Binnein Mor where we had planned to camp.

The way to Stob Ban was uneventful and my theory shared with Jim that he could have made that in leisurely time and then escaped onto the West Highland Way into Kinlochleven was vindicated. It was then that Jim called from A&E telling us that he had slipped and broken his ankle in 3 places!!!!

Next on the list was Sgurr an lubhair, which is described as an ex-Munro having been relegated from that elite status. Here there was a fabulous lochan which allowed us to top up our water supplies. At this point it was clear Guy was struggling and as Sgurr a’Mhaim was a peak captured and then returned by the same route I suggested that I walk for about an hour and a half, bagging Am Bodach and pitching the tent on the other side and getting the pan on so that tea would be ready when he arrived, if not hot food!

The view from the summit of Sgurr a’Mhaim was the highlight of the day. For virtually the whole day Ben Nevis was shrouded in cloud, however, by 8pm it showed its grandeur – absolutely stunning. 

The ridge along to Sgurr a’Mhairm is airy in places and a few years ago I would have been tiptoeing across full of fear, but thanks to NLP that has long ceased to be an issue.

So on to Am Bodach and the prospect of dinner. For the third time that day I met a team doing a Ramsay Round – now that’s a serious challenge. By now the forecast cloud was beginning to come in and the rain started. The route down into the bealach where I spotted a suitable spot to camp for the evening was a bit steep and a bit unstable underfoot and I was glad to reach the bottom. It was the last time I would be pleased for some time.

I went to my rucksack to pull out the tent and I wouldn’t be surprised if some readers heard my profane and industrial language from there. It was not the tent that Guy and I had invested in for just such trips. It later transpired that Guy had chosen it because it was lighter…..I had no idea how to put the thing together (I am crap at that kind of thing at the best of times and had practised with the other tent several times to perfect an expedient pitch) so I had to wait for Guy. The sweat had taken its toll on my new t-shirt so I quickly changed and got the stove going and enjoyed my pasta with relish, all the while keeping an eye out for Guy. An hour later and I was starting to get seriously worried as the clag closed in. (I found out later that Guy couldn’t find the way off the summit so sat things out for 20 minutes whilst he waited for a break in the cloud) Eventually he heard my calls and joined me and after a fashion got the tent up.

Normally that would be a cause for celebration; however, this tent would barely have fitted two pygmies far less two adult men with rucksacks. In conditions where we could barely move sleep was a foreign entity. Around 2.30 am Guy stated, “We’ll laugh about this one day…just not now” as the wind and rain howled and managed to penetrate the tent. He is of course correct, but we could have died from exposure up there as there was no way we could get down in the dark in the circumstances.

Guy was “done”, and I couldn’t leave him to make his own way down so the decision was taken at 5.30 to break camp and follow what looked to be a reasonable escape route to get us back to the car and abandon the expedition.

I would love to say the escape was uneventful, but it wasn’t as we slid down shiny slippery rocks braking to ensure we didn’t fall into the gorge below, then having to pick a route down a precipitous face using trees to arrest us as we went, then having to ford a river before completing the job by crossing the Steal Bridge.

We managed to get hold of Jim and he met us in the car park with the help of a taxi driver and agreed lunch at The Clachaig Inn was in order. A rather fantastic curry was had in Glasgow that evening as we bumped into lots of AC/DC fans on their way to their gig at Hampden before dumping the hire car and binning the wholly inadequate tent.

Lessons learned

Make sure you take the right equipment – double check it if you are relying on someone else taking it.

Make sure navigation skills are up to being able to cope with zero visibility.

I am already well down the road of planning another go at tackling the full Mamore ridge, but I doubt Guy will.

Next up is a couple of weeks in Assynt at the lovely Clachtoll Beach where I aim to get some climbing as well as hiking done - just hoping for better weather than last years family holiday in that neck of the woods!

Finally, I post this on the 150th anniversary of the first successful ascent of The Matterhorn and leave with this rather lovely picture of the route up.

Plans coming together

It's been nearly a month since my last post (for the most part that is the sort of time period I aim to post until nearer the time) and already much progress has been made in all sorts of regards, despite a rather annoying recurrence of my Uveitis. 

Training

As far as Training goes Gary has issued me with phase 4 of my programme. Despite having worked with Gary for around a year now I am still surprised at how quickly I make gains. In a month I have gone to 60kg on the deadlift and on a good day can do 6 and 3 5's on the pull-ups and my Squat and Press has seen a similar improvement to my deadlift, up to 30kg! 

I haven't made such good progress on the Turkish Get-ups, I find 6kg relatively easy with my right arm, but a real challenge for the final sets on my left - I often wonder, given my lopsidedness, how I manage to walk around not looking like Quasimodo!

The 6am starts on my weekday visits to the gym are a challenge it has to be said and it has surprised me how sometimes I have the gym to myself, then for no apparent reason it's rammed on my next visit.

A further bit of training I am doing is perhaps unusual. I have given up lifts for Lent (elevators for those so inclined) which may not sound much, but my office is on the 13th floor and on the days I play squash it involves me carrying all my kit up - twice!

Further expeditions

Guy and I have planned our next visit to the Highlands and we aim to be in and out with military precision. Departing on the sleeper on Friday 26th June to Glasgow, hop in a hire car to Fort William to arrive mid morning with all our provisions. Tackle the Mamore ten with a wild camp along the way and back to Glasgow, hopefully via the Clachaig Inn for dinner and get the sleeper back to London and return to work on the 29th.

Hopefully from the map you can see that the route involves climbing ten Munros over the course of around 18 hours. The idea being it will be good preparation for the long slog on The Matterhorn. The key differences are that this won't involve any technical climbing, but it will include carrying significantly more gear including sleeping bag and tent.

In addition, with the revisions to the sleeper service and the ability to book 12 months in advance we have already booked our winter weekend in Feb 2016 which may well be our final bit of hardcore training before The Matterhorn. If nothing else it will be good to return to The Clachaig Inn where hopefully the weather will be just as good as this year's trip and not as it currently is, stormbound!

The grand ascent plans

The Grand ascent plans are progressing well and at the time of writing are closing in on a deal with James Thackery with really just the date to be decided then it will be all systems go to actually begin the process of booking flights and accommodation etc.

Fundraising vehicles

Most importantly things are progressing well for creating the most efficient fundraising vehicles for funding a defibrillator for Lewsey Sports Park, thanks to Active Luton, with the surplus going to C-R-Y in memory of Harry Faulkner. Once the details are announced it will be time for me to urge you to dig deep for an excellent cause.

Expect a further update in about a month.

Please do leave comment

Not quite what we had planned!

Well it was more erudite compatriot than I that composed the following:

"The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!"

And so it was that Guy and my winter weekend didn't go quite to plan on the first weekend in February.

The plan was simple, a I stated in the first post. It started off superbly with the train running on time, a hearty breakfast before picking up the car and arriving at Inveruglas by 10.30 ready to go.

Ben Vorlich was resplendent in winter sunshine and the snow was a lovely texture - perfect for hiking in fact. As soon as I got up to the snow line I had to put on my goggles as the glare was so profound. As I approached the final pull to the summit ice axe had to be pulled out, but I had no need of crampons yet. Once on the summit it was clear as you could ever wish for. In fact I commented to the only other two people I saw that many people wait a lifetime and never get conditions like those.

One thing I was pleased to discover was that the strength work I have been doing with Gary Nisbet has had a profound impact on my performance. In a little over 12 months I have gone from pretty much being the identical pace as Guy, to being able to put half an hour between us in what was a 5 hour trip - we were both astonished and I am profoundly grateful to Gary for his efforts to date and having just received phase 4 of my programme look forward to continued improvement both in this field and on the squash court.

The way back down was fun as I managed a couple of good glissades (a posh way of saying sliding down on your butt!) for good measure. Once back on the floor of the Glen we were treated to some spectacular light and cloud formations.

And so it was we travelled onwards to our billet at the rather fabulous Clachaig Inn with plenty of time to spare to watch the rugby and have a hearty meal of haggis, neeps and tatties and sample a few of the beers available in their beer festival. Guy was pleased with the result, albeit the picture quality left something to be desired. The other downside was the lateness of breakfast (8.15) far too late for most climbers who make up the majority of clientele in winter so we had to make do with a continental affair before meeting our guide for the day, Max.

Meeting in the car park to do a gear check was where our grand plans came slightly apart. You don't need to be a rocket scientist or an expert mountaineer to know that THE most critical piece of equipment is the rope. Imagine my horror discovering that the rope I had purchase a year or so ago was not fit for purpose!!! I won't bore you with the details but I had been badly advised and ended up with what is called a half rope as opposed to a whole rope. It had no impact on the day as Max had all we needed, however, it did mean that our plan to repeat Saturday on the Sunday was now a non-starter as the rope was still effectively in it's packaging and I should get a good price for it (and then purchase a whole rope!) I ought to point out that a half rope is not what it seems to imply.....

So off we headed with our aim being to tackle Twisting Gully

As we approached we could hear loads of cries and Max explained that the cliffs were ahead of us but the cloud was so low we couldn't see them and it was climbers communicating to each other. We were less than 50 metres away when suddenly the cloud lifted and we could see our target.  I say our target, but it was questionable whether we would get on it as there were so many people there. In all my time in the hills only on the tourist path up Ben Nevis have I seen so many people on a hillside. It was an eye-opener to see the jockeying, between guides especially, to "claim a route".


Soon we were roped up and underway and in no time making good progress. Max was a superb teacher having understood what our current skill levels were and giving us the tools we needed to be safe for future expeditions.

I think it was on the third pitch that we approached the crux (which is the Grade IV part of a generally Grade III climb) and it was tough. Whilst I may be a bit quicker and a bit stronger than Guy, he is unquestionably a better climber having devoted more practice time at the new Vauxhall Climbing Wall I followed Max up EVENTUALLY and Guy was summoned to follow. I had every confidence in Guy making it both due to his better technique and being taller so when I heard him call, "I'm stuck!" and Max queried what had been said I lied saying I didn't think that was what he had said!!! Sure enough my faith was not misplaced as he popped over the rocks.

The remainder was comparatively uneventful until we reached the very top where dangerous cornices existed - thankfully someone had cleared a route through and we topped out to amazing views of surrounding mountains including Ben Nevis in the distance.

Me topping out

Max and I

Me and Guy (note the hat at a jaunty angle)

The magnificent Ben Nevis in the distance

A lovely trek back to the car and even got back to The Clachaig in time for most of the rugby! Sadly the result wasn't quite what I had hoped for, but there was consolation in the shape of another hearty meal and some more interesting brews.

In light of the rope disaster we reviewed our plans and decided to tackle Ban Vane instead as it looked a step up from Ben Vorlich, but with no need of a rope. Given the resultant extra time we indulged in a Clachaig Full Hog breakfast and so we set off with very full stomachs.

Our initial thoughts were borne out and it wasn't long before the ice axes and crampons were needed.

Guy in the distance

The cloud was a lot lower so there were no views from the top and a surprising number of other walkers were also on the hill. Aside from the many false tops the walk itself was generally uneventful except when I caught up with a fellow walker. When confronted with a steep gully to shorten the route I was confident enough to tackle it after the day with Max whereas my "companion" took a more circuitous route to the summit. He got his own back on the way down as he confidently glissaded large parts of the return leg.

The final wrinkle came when I got back to the car to discover I had left my glasses at The Clachaig, an hour's drive away. When I told Guy my faux pas and our need to return his reply was, "You know what, I am struggling to think of anything I care less about!" Of all the things that could have gone wrong over the weekend it was indeed trivial. And it did give us an excuse to squeeze and extra pint!

Then it was back to London and the culture shock of getting off the sleeper straight onto the Victoria Line during rush hour - welcome home!

When all is said and done the aims of this trip were met, nae exceeded and when Max told Guy, "There is nothing on The Matterhorn that is as tricky as that (crux) move", it gave us a huge boost. We are both confident that we can do the challenge, we now have to get some practice at a long mountain expedition and one more winter expedition, unguided, and engage a guide for our Matterhorn trip.....