On this page, I'm going to tell you what I love about mountains, and also show you
some of the photographs I have taken of them.

I don't know exactly when I started to become intrigued by mountains, but it may well have been on our first ever trip to Switzerland where we went for drives through these beautiful mountain valley's. On subsequent trips to France, seeing the mountains was always my favourite part.
Or it may have been our first holiday to South Africa. Here there are huge barren mountains, very different to the cool green Alps. The Amphitheatre, an immense curved wall of rock between 2 huge peaks, is something I will never forget from our two stays in South Africa's Drakensburg mountains.

I really like hot beachy holidays too, but the ultimate holiday for me is high up in the mountains. I just love the scale and power, and at the same time serene beauty. Mountains can kill, and yet on a sunny day they seem kind and welcome you with open arms. I love the way that conditions can change so fast, as if the mountain is having mood swings. For me, mountains are definitely alive!

My first taste of actually climbing all the way up a mountain was in the Lake District a few years ago. You may not think of Cumbria as having true mountains, but there was deep snow on the peaks and none in the valleys which is my definition of a monutain!
I went with my dad to conquere Great Gable, a peak nearly 3000ft high. We were soon up into the snow and it was freezing, and we got completely lost! It was a sunny day though and we were lucky because this meant we could see the peak we were heading for, if it had been cloudy we'd never have got anywhere near it. We had a 'white out' where the cloud came down over the snow and I tell you it is scary, especially if its the first time it's ever happened to you.
We got to a ledge below the final ascent which was a long and steep rocky bit. We tried it, but it was very icy and dangerous, and halfway up bits of cloud started blowing across, and this almost petrified me at the thought of being engulfed in cloud at this height, and me and my dad decided we shouldn't risk going any further.
On the way back we experienced snow about 4 or 5 feet deep, and again lost our way, and had to take a very dangerous route on a steep slushy hillside. It was a combination of the challenges we'd faced and the icy beauty we'd witnessed that made this one of the best days of my life.

I really regret not taking any photos on my first two holidays to the Lake District, but here is a photo I took on a day in the Lakes a few days after christmas 1997. It was the first time I'd ever done a mountain walk on my own and I really enjoyed having noone to argue with about which paths to take and which direction to go. I got totally lost though, and at one point I was thinking about what it would be like to spend the night on my own in the mountains!

The next time we went to the Lake district was in summer, and so this time we planned to actually get to the top of a mountain. Firstly we decided that we just had to get to the top of Great Gable. But the day we went was horrible weather up on the mountain. We toiled through thick cloud in the pouring rain, totally engulfed in greyness. We reached the ledge we'd got to before. Now there was a horrendous gale too. This time we didn't even begin the climb to the summit, it was just too windy and we couldn't be sure where we were going in the thick cloud. Great Gable had defeated us again.
But we climbed round towards the other side of the mountain where the wind was much lighter, and here there was another way up. This way was easier, though still slippery and dangerous, but we made it. The view from the top was amazing, you could see all of 5 metres! The only interesting thing up there was a lone sheep which wandered out of the mist towards us! We didn't stay long as it was freezing! It wasn't as good as the winter walk, but we were damn satisfied to have finally defeated her!

Also on that holiday we climbed Scafell Pike, the highest peak in England. Again, the entire upper regions of the mountain were engulfed in cloud, and we got totally lost in the wilderness more than once. Still, getting to the top was easier than Gt.Gable.

The next great adventure was up in Snowdonia. It was late winter and there was still a lot of snow on the highest mountains. This time my brother, Chris, decided to come along with me and my dad. Obviously we went for Snowdon first, and we soon learnt that the weather in Wales is far kinder than in the Lakes. We had a mostly sunny day, and yet it turned out to be the most dangerous climb we'd done.
We were going up the most direct route, called the Pig track, which zig-zagged up a very steep face of the mountain. Everyone we passed had proper equipment, spikey shoes and sticks etc. Despite being in worn out trainers we were overtaking everyone ahead of us! When we got to the steep bit the snow was getting deep and I especially was not gripping very well at all. I got more and more nervous as it got steeper. It got to the point where if I slipped I doubt I'd have survived, so when we got to this thin ledge of snow-covered rock I completely froze. It took a lot of coaxing from my dad to get me across. Near the top it got so steep that I had to crawl up, and even then I started to slip backwards. The last bit was an unbelievably steep gulley of snow, and I scrambled up it with my heart in my mouth. Then suddenly I'd made it up onto the ridge, wow!
After that the walk upto the top was easy, and it felt great to be sitting on the summit eating lunch and throwing bread to the friendly seagulls.

The drama wasn't over yet though! On the way down we ignored the warnings and decided to follow the railway line down. It got really dangerous where the track was covered in snow. This time it was Chris who froze. There were footholes in the snow to get across, if you missed them you'd slip down the mountain on the icy snow. Again it needed a lot of persuasion from me and my dad before Chris would take the next step.
We didn't know it at the time but down below the rest of our family had got the train as high as it would go and they were watching us trying to get across, and were quite concerned as you can imagine! But we made it down to them safely. This was an awesome climb, and having Chris was much better than I'd expected!

At the start of our next climb we met this little chap. He wasn't scared of us, and he was spotlessly clean unlike most lambs. Isn't he just the cutest little thing? :)

So our second climb started well with meeting lambie, and the rest of it was great too. It was another nice day, and there were also some dangerous bits (which are essential - getting to your destination without a challenge is no fun!). Another interesting thing happened on this walk: A mountain rescue helicopter practised a landing on this very thin ridge only a few metres infront of us.

OK, so thats the British mountains, and although they're tops for walking, to look at they can't really live up to their much bigger cousins in Europe. It was my idea for the next family holiday to be to the Alps. Eventually the holiday arrived and we were soon surrounded by enormous mountains in the northern French Alps. This is a photo of a resevoir we passed while driving one day:

Everyday we visited Ski-resorts or took cable cars upto the peaks. We didn't have very good weather, but here is photo from one of the nice days of a lake perhaps halfway up a 3000 metre mountain, which we later got to the top of and nearly froze!

One day we stopped at this little high up village, where life seemed to have been left behind by 100 years or so. The houses were so old-fashioned, and all the people were peasent farmers, leading a simple existence. We had to wait as they led their cows past, all with bells around their necks. This was a view looking down from the village, and I think this photo looks like it was taken 50 years ago:

On another one of the sunny days, we all did a hike, up a beautiful pine-laden mountainside. We got upto a lake nestled below the peaks, which was surrounded by colourful flowers. It was a gorgeous place, and despite forgetting to bring any lunch with us we stayed there as long as we could!

After a week in France we moved on to Switzerland. Here, again, we didn't have much luck with the weather, and kept putting off and putting off our trip to see the Matterhorn. Me and Chris thankfully had table-tennis to entertain us, as each evening loads of young people on the campsite gathered each evening at the table tennis tables for huge games of round-the-table, and we got to know quite a few people which was really cool.

Meanwhile on an alright day weather-wise we trekked to the largest glacier in Europe. From afar it looked like a smooth ribbon of ice winding down through the peaks, but up close it was awe-inspiring. The ice was immense, and covered in gaping cracks. We climbed on it a little way, but crossing it would have been impossible. In the next photo you get an idea of the scale of the ice, and the two people you can see infront of it are my dad and Chris.

Our last day in Switzerland was probably the luckiest and most enjoyable of my life. Firstly, we were finally blessed with a beautiful day for our trip to the Matterhorn. You can only get to the Matterhorn from the town of Zermat, which you cannot drive to by road. There is a railway, but we decided to walk there. About halfway there we got our first view of the Matterhorn poking up over the nearby hills.
Zermat itself is a wonderful place. It's quite touristy, but the fact that there was no traffic was a new experience, and wondering round a town in total peace was really nice.

We found a cable car service, and this took us about 1/4 of the way up the Matterhorn. Then we found some far more remote cable cars which took us to a lake about half way up the mountain, as high as cable cars can go. This place is somewhere I have to return to, because I had just an awesome experience here:

I left my family behind to climb up a little further on my own. I found this slope of smooth snow and sat at the top and rolled stones down, leaving trails in the untouched snow, with noone else around. I then went up further and came to this wide gulley filled with snow but I climbed up along the edge of it. I reached this little stoney summit where I suddenly had the whole vistor of the Matterhorn infront of me. The photo at the top of this page is the one I took from here.
To cap it off, I found this lovely green slab of stone right on top of the little summit. It has to be the best place I've ever stood. I climbed down from the summit to where I could see some icy little lakes, and this is the photo I took of one of these:

I decided I would walk back down through the gulley of snow instead of at the edge. Then happened one of the biggest pieces of luck ever. I was down to nearly my last photo. This guy climbing up the gulley passed me. I didn't say anything to him, but he stopped and gazed up at the Matterhorn in just the perfect place, at the perfect time, and it all combined to create my favourite photo I've ever taken:

Not long after taking the photo it got cloudy and the sun went in, so the timing of it was unbelievably good! After that we went back to Zermat and sat against a wall on the crowded streets with a takeaway and a bottle of coke, with a few people giving us strange looks! But it seemed the perfect way to end our time in Zermat.

NEXT STOP: THE HIMILAYAS :)

I'd like to thank Ash for scanning my photos for this page.

UPDATE!

In the middle of April 98 I went on a two night trip to Snowdonia with my dad. We stayed in a youth hostel located right at the start of the climb upto Snowden. The week before we went there had been a cold spell and North Wales had got a lot of snow. There was snow as low as the youth hostel so we expected lots of snow higher up.

On the afternoon we arrived we tried Snowdon. We were warned before leaving that the Pig track was very dangerous with the amount of snow, and so we didn't expect to make it to the top. But we decided to see how far we could get. It was a nice day and the climb upto the steep part of the Pig track was lovely. The steep bits weren't as difficult as we'd expected because the snow was very deep and you could dig your feet in.
But it was very slow going, and took a lot out of me. The ledge where I'd got stuck the last time we came was easier this time, and the steep gulley at the end wasn't even there, it was just big footprints to step in. To our huge annoyance the summit clouded over just as we got near it, and then it cleared again not long after we left it, and was clear for the rest of the day!

We came back down the Pig track, but not quite the same way we'd come up. On a couple of the long steep bits I sat down and slid down on my jeans. It was so much fun! I covered a huge distance in virtually no time at all, and the people climbing up who saw me looked a bit jealous!

On our second day hardly any of the snow had melted. It was again quite a nice day but this time there was a very strong wind up on the peaks. We started by climbing up a route called Devil's kitchen. It was more dangerous than the Pig track as the snow was far more icy. But it was a super climb as the route just seemed so mountainy, and was far less open than the Pig track.
Up on the top we found some huge snow drifts, perhaps 5 feet deep. There was a gusty wind and it was whipping up the fine snow into little whirlwinds and swirls.

We had another climb to do to get right to the top of the ridge. This was steep and dangerous again, and nearing the top a gale started blowing. I found this really tough, my progress slowed to a crawl, and I lagged behind my dad.
At the top there was nowhere to hide from the wind. In many places the snow was being whipped up and looked like smoke rushing by. It was horrible to walk through this snow as it really stung your face. With this, and the wind trying to blow me off my feet, I was stumbling along and almost collapsed. I felt just like Luke Skywalker in The Empire Strikes Back when he collapses in the blizzard near the start.

We eventually made it into nicer conditions, and the rest of the walk was glorious. We went across this slope which was one big drift of pure snow. It was so white that you couldn't tell what level the snow was on your next step forward, and most steps you were sinking upto your waist.
Our last morning was a beautiful day, and we strolled back upto the lake beneath Snowdon. It was a lovely end to a great couple of days. It wouldn't have been nearly so good without the late spring snow though, so we were extremely thankful for that!

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