The GlydarsIdwal Cottage hadn't changed much since my last visit, the only addition seemed to be the sale of Newcastle brown ale from the shop where I asked if there was any snow any where. No! Right: the axes would stay in the car boot. The pace was slow and steady to Devil's Kitchen, neither Chris nor Ian were fast walkers and I was out of condition. I was here to relax, not exhaust myself; I had the office to do that. By the time we were approaching Glydar Fawr we were ready for our first lunch stop. Chris was a diabetic and wanted to keep eating to hold up the level of sugar in his blood. Ian had provided us each with an enormous lunch and loads of emergency rations, he always did. Our rock didn't hinder the typically chilling December wind and the bland monochrome view inspired nothing but quick eating. When progress continued, we could see the peak through stinging eyes, as the sharp wet wind rolled us over the landscape like boats in a storm. Chris and Ian's itinerary was to conquer both the Glydars than Tryfan. A short exploration but enough for us to enjoy and be in the pub with enough drinking time to re-call the most minor incidents of the day and argue about the exaggerations. Besides, I was out of practice for longer days. The Fawr conquered we headed due west towards the Clogwym Du ridge or what ever the map called it. Clouds were scuttling across in swirling jet streams between the larger features. Glydar Fawr was ahead of us and also another party of eight or so looking no different from the others we had seen. One of the figures, a woman in a green cag made for Ian, his map flying in the wind from around his neck. They formed the traditional pose, heads bowed together over the map. The group was lost and in complete disarray. She was trying to gain some co-ordination, which the original leaders had lost along with their respect. As she parted from Ian she had decided they were all going to follow us. Even that wasn't simple. The old leaders wanted to stay on the path; we wanted to stay where the edge was visible so we didn't drift. The result was chaos with people stretched over a hundred yards or so. Yet another stop, and a decision by Ian to follow the escape down which we had followed on a previous trip. It was only one o'clock and Tryfan was to be sacrificed but my feelings weren't strong enough to complain. Ian was leading now and wouldn't make such a decision without good reasons. We found the path and started the descent. It was quite steep but there were plenty of flat ledges and it was well defined. "Can you watch the little one?" The green cag said as she past me. "She's never been walking before." "OK, if that's want you want!" Surprised that the request was directed towards me. The 'little-one' was in a blue cag and trousers and had a tiny pack, a girl of less than five feet. She looked just like my X girl friend. She had stopped by a couple of steps where light scrambling was required, the last three others waiting behind her. I walked back. "OK? Do you want a hand, or are you all right?" I didn't really want to interfere but I had been asked and the others were not offering help. Her boots looked unkempt, worn and wet and with cheap plastic soles. I grabbed a hand full of cag with a firm hold. "OK, just walk down, I've got you." Grabbing the rock as if her life depended on, she started moving slowly. "Thanks." She said when it was over; her voice was soft and calm making no attempt to beat the wind. "I've never done this before you see." The boots were borrowed. A few paces later another scramble, which I jumped down with deliberate ease. Her method was slow, uncoordinated and again assisted. How could anybody be so frightened? The others waiting behind content to let me give the advice. I walked on, turned and waited. Her pigeon steps started, but I had to come back to help. "I'm sorry. I'm just so frightened, it's so steep!" It was steep, but the exposed position distorted the gradient. Progress continued in a similar vain. Sometimes her foot slipped a little on the topsoil and there was a breathless whimper as she grabbed a rock with both hands. I tried blocking each step with my boots in an attempt to increase her speed if not her confidence. The next obstacle had a slightly larger drop, perhaps three feet. As had become the pattern, I jumped down throwing out comments about it being easier than it looked. "No. No, I can't!" It was said with fright rather than feeling. "Its OK." How many times had I said "It's OK" in the last few minutes! But it was. "I can't" and as an unintentional gesture she cried out again as one of her feet slipped again. Her tight face was serious. "Look, I've got a rope. Would you be happier if we belayed you down?" One of the three watching from behind was one of their redundant leaders. At my request he attempted a knot around her waist and started to belay over a crack. It was a good few minutes later I was able to undo his granny and tied a bowline. "Were you a Boy Scout?" "I still am." I replied. A new pattern immerged, belay her 20 feet or so from above with me helping below, then waited while the others moved down and find the next belay point. "I'm not normally like this at all." She said. The calmness in her voice was surprising and I realized how much I had been talking down to her. She was a third year university student reading Pharmacology. I resisted a joke. I couldn't think of anyway to speed her up, every time I suggested a larger step, crossed her legs or get completely stuck so badly more time was lost. "How much further is it?" The wind was rising and brought rain. Soon water was running off the ends of her matted black hair. We must have been descending for well over an hour already. "Can you go ahead and get the others to come back up and mark the best route?" I said to one of the two who were being so patient above us. He seemed glad to escape, jumping ahead and accelerated away down a streambed. We would have to traverse across and return to the path later, at this speed we would be standing in the water too long, she was already very cold. It was impossible to lose patience with somebody so helpless but it was it tiring work. By now we all knew each other's names, she was Michelle, the leader Paul and with him, Gill. Several times the tide of panic rose in Michelle, the shaking increased her voice trembling concerns as she gripped the rope, the rock or me. "Its OK, its OK, you're all right." There was another sudden gust of wind and a new rumbling sound above us. She screamed. "Rocks!" Paul shouted. I threw her back against the face. Two large boulders were spinning down well out of the line of the others but not us! It was over in seconds, they cascaded past so close, I felt my hand posed to defend us, could touch one. How could I explain this to her? May be because she knew I couldn't, she didn't ask, both of us realising how futile my heroic gesture had been against two 18 inch rocks travelling so fast. We stood shaking there together for a few seconds. The other two started moving down to find another belay point. Gill looked terrified but was keeping it to herself, as I had too. Sharing managerial problems with staff wasn't the answer, I said to myself, even now I couldn't get work out of my system. The light had been bad all day but it was starting to go now and nobody had got a torch, the two in my party were with the others, two seemed adequate when we had packed the gear. Suddenly later the cloud lifted, Chris and Ian were at the bottom, the others had gone. "Hey.... Get... a... torch... up... here..." I shouted, but it was lost in the wind. Gill was prepared to go on alone and give them the message, it would also get her away from any more falls. As she left, the clouds returned and the three of us were alone. Some time later the stars indicated how late it had become, at least the rain had gone. We still hadn't found the path again. Where the hell was that torch? We were still moving but so slowly and we now had no idea how far it was to the bottom. A single light was shining from the valley where the others had been standing providing us with a target. There was a torch flash directly above us, who ever it was they could start another rock fall. "Hello... Hello... we... are... beneath... you... I shouted. "It's... Ian... I've... got... the... torch... and... Gill..." Oh no, why the hell had he bought Gill back up? They had obviously missed us on their way back up. We waited and watched too dangerous to continue now, such little vision and the wet rocks were freezing over. Ian's bright cag was holding the torch, so Gill was moving without light. Slowly the light got closer coming down and traversing across. I could see Gill as a shadow now. Suddenly she screamed, long and continues and cutting through the remaining distance. Her black shape started to slide, limbs waving in the night air, falling, falling like the rocks, 5, 10, 20 feet. Now below us, gaining speed. She stopped, and with it the scream. Silence, she must have fallen 30 feet, that was enough to.... "I'm OK, I'm OK!" It seemed to be more to reassure herself than us. "Don't move till Ian gets there with the torch." I shouted and turned to Paul. He would try and get over to Gill. There were new lights in the valley now, the number of them meant that it must be help on its way. "If you can get down with the torch do so, we are staying here it looks like the rescue crew are coming." I said to his fading back. Now to get Mitchelle warm. I had a duck-down coat in the pack, it caught the the wind as it immerged but she held it while I got the pack firmly under knee. She was cold, shivering, and petrified after Gill's fall. We were on a tilting shelf a yard square. She was lying almost flat, leaning with her left shoulder against the rock, her right hand round my waist which I wormed into a sleeves. I pulled the coat over her till it came in contact with the rock. How stupid I had been. I had made the decision that we were not going to move on, but had not got Paul to tie us on before he had gone to Gill. Now we were stuck together and lifting her up to move to get the coat on was a major manoeuvre. Shit, did I risk her sliding off or let her get even colder? No, she wouldn't die of hypothermia, so it wasn't worth the risk. I tucked the coat in as far as I could and held it with my right hand. Then pushed my other hand down the sleeve to meet hers. That bloody torch, and why had Ian bought Gill back up with him? How ironic if Gill had fallen off when she had already got to the bottom once. It was another link in this catalogue of events that was within a hair's breath of a disaster. The torch was now flashing around the place where Gill had ended her fall. "We can't get down!" Ian Shouted. "We'll wait for the rescue team too." So we were all just going to have to sit it out. My cheek was against the top of Mitchelle's head. Her curly hair still damp. I transferred my bobble hat to her head, "What do you do" she said, her voice still as soft and quiet but now trembling with the mixture of cold and fear. I rambled out a reply and she continued till she realised I was tired of talking, and even listening. We shivered together as the flickering lights brightened from both diagonals, eventually one arrived. "Hello, are you two OK?" The figure stood above us, his head torch flooding the ground that had been dark as he examined his find. He wore a clean bright Rohan jacket, which nearly met the nylon gaiters. The climbing harness round his waist was laden with assorted hardware, which chinked as he moved. He ordered two others behind him to set up a fixed rope. Their uniform seemed identical to his. I fumbled out a few words. He saw the rope "Are you fixed?" He asked. The answer seemed so stupid. So did replies to questions about whether the coat was on properly? Had she got gloves on? Had we got a torch? When was the last time you ate anything? Breakfast she said! Oh Ian, I've been carrying that food you prepared and I hadn't even thought about offering her any, or suggested she ate some of her lunch which she now explained was still in her small rucksack. The coat was buttoned after she was secure and I was given a Mars bar and told to feed her. He formed a shank of rope into a figure of eight while we swapped names and other information at his request, he was Stuart. He put one of her legs into each loop of the shank, then pulled it over her arms onto her shoulders. The result was a human rucksack as she sat in the centre of the figure of eight. "OK, now this isn't going to be very comfortable but I am going to carry you down on my back. You know its not often I get pretty girls to carry down!" His voice seems so partonizing but it was his show and she was far too scared and intelligent to let it concern her. And how could I criticize this guy who's evening meal was drying up in the oven at home, and succeeding where I had failed. He undid my bowline, lay on top of her, back down and past his arms through the thick shank and rolled over pulling her with him. I heard her faint cry for the last time. He fixed a crab across his chest to hold the shank in position, and shouted more jargon to his friends. I finished the mars she hadn't wanted as he clipped onto the abseil rope and giving her a running commentary, they disappeared. He was doing a good job and enjoying it. Lights now littered the black valley below, some along way off. Guys had got home from football to the waiting message. I sat shivering until he returned. My empty stomach now biting at the mars, it hadn't occurred to me that I was hungry. "Have you abseiled before?" He said on his return. I didn't dare tell him I had even instructed it. He made a harness out of my rope and clipped on another crab. It was less than fifty feet to the bottom, where Ian and Gill had been perhaps only 25. How different I would have felt if... there were so many `ifs`, some good, others the reason why I was shaking so much. Another two action men were waiting at the bottom with all four of the others, Paul had got to the bottom by himself. The calls and shouts continued for a while as the rucksacks and ropes were past down. We were still along way from the bottom of the valley, but the rest was a walking gradient. Mitchelle was now on what they called a 'dog lead', a rope around her waist with a lead on the back. Somebody could walk behind and stop her falling by holding the rope up. It was obviously a very proven technique for somebody on shaky legs. I was asked to light the way and support her side and found I was glad to be near her again. The wind was up again and the terrain of fallen boulders difficult to negotiate as a team, I suppose our two were here somewhere. The gusts caught us every few yards and we sank to our knees. But time and speed was not a consideration. We were heading towards the lights in the valley basin, when the guy I had sent on and Chris had been waiting for us for so long. I asked Stuart the time. It was nine thirty. I stopped dead, oh hell, you incompetent idiot. What was the matter with me. "Stuart, shit, I'm sorry, I've only just remembered, Chris our third team member, he's a diabetic and it's so late." Stuart returned as fast as he had left. Somebody was going to check on Chris, he took the lead again and it was soon obvious that Mitchelle was better off clambering over the rocks with out me. I walked ahead looking for the best route down, turning and watching her progress. There was a long trial of light behind them, bobbing around against the black silhouette which finished 1300 feet above with a star filled sky. As we approached the temporary base camp, I could see Chris with the other figures, they showed all the signs of waiting together for some time. They laughed and joked, christian names used freely. The diabetic concern had been unnecessary. One of the rescue crew with this group was distinctly a generation older than all the others. A big frame and a strong calm voice coming from a bushy unkept beard, every feature seemed to highlight his authority. The group enlarged and as it completed he raised his voice. "We were informed that seven persons were missing, have we got seven here?" The number deliberately emphasized and repeated. Yes, seven there were. This information was relayed down his radio which it acknowledged with a distorted burst of noise. "OK, its a long walk down lets get going." It was followed by details which didn't interest me and like all his comments was aimed at his bunch of merry men. Something about not going the shortest way because it would be more difficult in the wind for the girl. She wasn't a girl. It took an hour to reach Idwal. I kept turning to view my coat now surrounded in head torches all in full conversation. "Oh Mitchelle's into sheep and cows." I was sad and relieved, my winged white horse was lame. They had performed a professional job and were now enjoying their right-full glory. I wanted some recognition of my failed attempt to save this damsel but there was no change of that. Now a craving desire to stay near her. "What do you do?" I heard her ask one. My heart sank. Ian explained that he thought he heard me telling him to bring Gill up, he also admitted slipping several yards himself while they were above us. Some time later Ian, Chris and I sat on a bar stool listening to the boss. He had just bollocked all of us in a debrief as the Police got their details. The Students hadn't come to the pub in fact only a few had come to the debrief. The green cag was of course, now introduced as Cathy. We had swapped addresses, her excuse was Christmas cards but I hoped I knew the real reason. I put my scratched hand in my pocket and held the paper containing Cathy's address, it was all I had left now. So much for a relaxing weekend. |