Maybe the 2008 Welsh 3000’s expedition was ill-fated from the off as Oliver Sloper was not able to join Alex Gardner, Lucy Garrard, Jack Hartley, Charlie Hunt, Rowley Sims, Ella Singleton, Ali White, Arthur Wicks, Rev Parker, RSM Bryant and Miss Morgan due to illness. The eleven still happy hikers set off from Cranleigh at midday on Sunday 13th April aiming for a bunkhouse near the starting point of the walk for an early bed. After a cramped 6 hours in a minibus, broken up by a hearty fish and chips and the unsolicited compliment by a Welshmen that Arthur was a “very good looking fellow”, we arrived at the bunkhouse and, after packing bags for the following days expedition, fell, already exhausted into bed by 9.30. Sleep was always going to be hard to come by as we all, even the SAS trained, expedition hardened Rev, considered the gargantuan challenge that we had foolishly signed up for, a challenge which had always previously been attempted in the summer! The imposing, snow capped peaks we had wondered at on the drive in were in mind as we contemplated our goal: to complete a 30 mile walk over the 15 highest peaks in Wales (all over 3000ft), and as if that weren’t hard enough we aimed to do this within 24hours.

 

The alarms went off at 2.45am and after a short minibus ride we reached the starting point of our walk, Pen-y-Pass, at the foot of Snowdon and started off on time at 3.30am. Walking in the total dark, with only head torches and the comforting crunch of the Rev’s boots to guide us was certainly an experience, especially as the snow grew deeper and more widespread. As we neared the summit of Snowdon the clouds closed in, the snow started to fall, and visibility was limited to the 10 snowy feet around you. It was in these conditions, and with a biting wind blowing that we attained the peak, and it was in approximately minus 20 degree temperatures through which we slowly moved towards the ridge which would lead us to our second peak. By this point, everything was white, and the snow was of a depth most had only seen on skiing holidays, and certainly not in England! We were all slightly nervous at this point, unsurprising since we had been helpfully informed that the 1 mile ridge to Crib Goch was the toughest, most dangerous part of the walk, and that was without any ice. After 30 minutes of painfully slow progress along this now white ridge, as the Rev tested the safety of a route, and then each of us clambered precariously along it, a halt was called. The Rev told us, with only the slightest tinge of disappointment in his voice, that our lack of ropes, crampons, ice axes and general mountaineering gear meant we had to turn back. This sensible decision met with no complaints and the eagerness of some members to “leave this damn mountain” was obvious! As we traipsed our way down towards civilization and out of the snow and clouds, we realised that we could now not complete our mission, and in the words of one disgruntled walker “We failed before six o’clock in the morning!”

 

The bitter pill of this perceived failure was soon pushed to the back of our minds as the exquisite smell of RSM Bryant’s bacon, eggs and coffee reached our noses from the car park in which he had made his kitchen. Fine dining this was not, but at 8am it was just the delicious and filling meal that was needed, and so the cries of “let’s spend the rest of the day in a pub” and “I’m never coming back to Wales” were replaced with the Rev’s cheery mention of the fact we would climb the 3200ft Tryfan instead. 

 

Now Tryfan didn’t sound too bad, and progress was swift until, after about 20 false summits, the final stretch turned out to be a graded rock climb up a gully affectionately nicknamed by Rowley “the gorge of certain death.” We reached the twin rocks of “Adam and Eve” which marked the summit in various states of sweatiness, tiredness and terror, all of which were soon replaced with elation as the sun came out and the magnificent view was taken in. A late lunch was devoured in this glorious setting and the decision was made to make our way back down a slightly less precipitous route, which would take us back down to meet the RSM and the minibus at about 4pm. The rest of our Welsh adventure was spent, after a quick shower, in the local pub watching a key premiership encounter and recounting our near death experiences.

 

Throughout the expedition we experienced a lot of obstacles and problems (the minibus even broke down on the motorway on the way back!) but the cheery optimism of the Rev and down to earth words of the RSM helped us stay upbeat and thanks must go to them for all their efforts in organising the expedition. Although, on paper, it looks as if we failed quite abysmally, hopefully we all learnt something, whether not to try climbing mountains in the winter without crampons, how to deal with failure, or even to push ourselves to the limits.