(As context for this post, I was still at this point in my life very heavy and extremely non-athletic. Little did I know that a love of hiking up mountains would be borne from this day!)
NEVER AGAIN!!! If I see another mountain in this lifetime, it’ll be too soon! At least I attempted the Ben, unfortunately, I was forced down because of weather. I was at least three quarters of the way up, darn it! I must admit that it’s my pride—that is my false pride—that got me so far up. I left in rainy, sticky weather only to encounter rainy, mucky, freezing weather. I was dressed properly, but still uncomfortable.
The ‘path’ up was unbelievable, most of it was just crumbly rock. My boots have an amazing gripping power. In a way, I’m glad clouds obscured the summit and hid the valley. I would have fainted if I’d seen either A) how far I’d come and/or B) how far I still had to go! When I finally came to my senses and headed down, I discovered that going up was physically exhausting but going down was emotionally terrifying! And painful. I never thought I’d get off that mountain!
Someone estimated that I’d make the climb in 5 ½ hours. I turned back with only a half hour to go. It was a difficult decision to make but I’d decided many things : 1) I wasn’t about to become another Ben statistic (I lost track of the number of times gusting winds came too close to blowing me off. And I’m still trying to forget the gushing stream I had to cross. One mistake and I would have been swept straight down three thousand feet.); 2) no challenge is worth dying for; 3) I’d already proven to myself that I could push myself beyond the limits of my endurance (physical, yes, but especially emotional. You have no idea how scared I was climbing that thing).
I’m proud of what I accomplished, but disappointed that I didn’t make to the very summit. It was my only chance; there’s no way I’m ever doing back up there !
The first couple of hundred feet coming down were terrible. As with going up, I couldn’t see more than fivein front of me. But about halfway down, the clouds began to clear and the sun peeked out. The glen became beautiful. And I saw just how much I’d climbed; despite my disappointment, I felt a certain amount of ‘good’ pride.
The weather cleared up very quickly as I came down; a beautiful loch was revealed to me. The most frightening part of the whole ordeal (I won’t lie, it was an ordeal!) was crossing this torrent of water. The first time (going up), a man helped me across, but my glasses were so steamy, I couldn’t see where I was going! Arriving safely on the other bank, I promptly tripped—twice. I wasn’t hurt but boy was I embarrassed! The man wouldn’t keep his eyes off me for several hundred feet! Besides that, there were a few scary slipping incidents but nothing major.
Igot off the Ben unbruised (nope, two lovely shiners the next morning, one on each knee!), alive, and with a lot of respect for it. I didn’t take this trip lightly, but I could never have foreseen how it would turn out, me against the elements. I can’t believe the people who literally sprinted up and down in under four hours!
The Ben is something to try once in a lifetime, and just trying it means something. But, as I said: NEVER AGAIN!!!
(Hoping to do so in 2017, LOL)
7:02 pm
The bunkhouse is almost full tonight! I must admit that I got the heebee jeebees when a van full of men came carousing in. Turns out they were loud because they weren’t used to staying in a place like this. They are actually very funny! (funny, that is, until they wouldn’t shut up and were yelling from midnight to 2AM!) Then, a guy I met through Haggis waltzed in, followed by at least two women and one more guy.
I had to do all my laundry tonight. I hope that most of it will be dry tomorrow, especially my big sweater. I’ll never take a washer and dryer for granted again! It’s tough wringing out those tee-shirts and pants, but a woolen sweater…!
I called ‘home’ again and left a message. It’s for ‘their’ sake, not mine.
