The 4 Peaks Challenge - Aug 2015

The 4 Peaks Challenge

June 2015

Following the success of last year’s senior manager challenge, a 50km walk along the Thames, the Compliance Director decided to up the ante for 2015 and sent out an email suggesting doing The Four Peaks Challenge.

I quickly googled it to discover it comprises climbing the 4 highest peaks in the UK over a weekend. There was a rider that to do the Northern Ireland one would necessitate a private flight from the mainland if we wanted to complete it within 48 hours. Blimey, I thought, that would up the budget. However, in the office, he explained it would be the 4 highest in England, all conveniently situated in the Lake District. These are Scafell, Scafell Pike, Helvellyn and Skiddaw.

Five of us signed up. We chose a suitable weekend, booked a B&B, bought train tickets, sorted out a guide and then some started to train. One of us was an experienced trekker – he’d just come back from three weeks trekking Aconcagua Peak, over 7000m high in the Andes. Another regularly walked decent distances in Surrey. The other two walked to the station and back and that’s it. As for me – I run, cycle and play football every week so I decided my fitness was OK, and my preparation was simply buying a pair of walking boots and trousers.

And then there were 4.

A week before departure disaster struck one guy, when one of his knees gave up. There was no way he could walk, let alone trek, in the Lake District. 

Looking Up

Late one Friday the remaining 4 arrived in Keswick, in the heart of the Lake District. We found the B&B, and headed off to dinner. At which point we discovered that all the popular restaurants were booked solid. The only place that would serve 4 at short notice was a Mexican that promised live music later on. Dinner was had, beers were drunk, and I wanted to hear the band. Layth, the proper trekker, also fancied it but the other two decided to retire.

On came the band, and opened with an amazing version of Son of a Preacher Man. All thoughts of an early night were banished, so plenty more beers were ordered and we stayed to the bitter end – superb.

Saturday morning, and a full English later, we met our guide. Off we went in his van to Scafell, and set off to start the challenge. Pictures tell a 1000 stories, so rather than describe the walk here are some pictures.

Looking down

During the afternoon I started to think about clouds. I’m no student of English poets, but from memory Wordsworth came from the Lake District. One of his most famous lines* is “I wandered lonely as a cloud” and I kept thinking “what? Clouds aren’t lonely. Every time you see one, you see loads of them.” I mean, seriously, the weather in the Lake District is very changeable – blue sky one moment, dotted clouds the next, rain around the corner. But lonely, single clouds? No.

Anyway, the two Scafell peaks were scaled and we got back to the van around 13 hours after we’d set off. There were some complaints of stiff joints, and Ankur, the only girl with us, talked of tiredness, but was otherwise fine. I will confess that at that stage it hadn’t felt much like a challenge – it was a lovely walk in the sunshine punctuated by picnics in some beautiful countryside. The scrambling on the various screes could not be described as too difficult.

Post dinner (pre-booked Italian) I was keen to go to a pub I’d noticed the night before saying ‘live band Saturday night’, and Layth was happy to join me. The other two retired to the B&B. I should stress that what with pre-dinner drinks and the many bottles of wine during the meal that both Layth and I were ‘on the grin’ when we walked into the pub, which explains what happened next. It was like walking into the TV show League of Gentlemen. Everyone stared at us. Everyone looked a little ‘wrong’. The band was a husband and wife in their 60’s – she was typical gypsy mother, dyed blonde, gold chunky jewellery everywhere, hair pulled back, clothes that were inappropriate for her figure and age and could only just hold a note. He was significantly overweight, black t-shirt, and a guitar. I wasn’t sure he was playing it, because she was basically singing to a karaoke track.

First song we heard was, I think, Free’s All Right Now. Because we were under the influence, we thought – let’s go with it. Everyone is singing along with abandon, so why don’t we? There was much music, much dancing, much singing, much drinking. While I was on the dance floor I saw Layth take pictures as proof of this bizarre event. We staggered out of the pub at 1am when they closed. I could have stayed…

And then there were three.

Sunday morning and the organiser’s knee wouldn’t let him get down the stairs at the B&B. He would not be able to attack the next two peaks**. So just the three of us set off, and today we had rain. And cloud. Again, here are pictures and not words. Though I’ll add that in a perverse way I started to enjoy it more as it felt more of a challenge. This felt like a proper effort.

At the top of Helvellyn I got out two miniature whiskies I’d brought along as a celebratory tot. Earlier Layth had stated that he wasn’t a whiskey drinker but, at the peak, he became a wiser man and joined me. We couldn't hang about as it was now early afternoon and we had to get a crack on if we were going to make the last peak and get back before our trains on Sunday evening. 

And then there were two (this is Agatha Christie stuff!)

Ankur had found the morning slow going, and had got very wet so was having a bit of a miserable time. Back at the car she announced that she couldn’t face the fourth peak. So on the way to Skiddaw she was dropped at the B&B while Layth and I continued with the challenge. This one was dull. There is a well maintained path nearly all the way to the top, so it was simply a long walk up, followed by a long walk down. The guide and Layth had been deep in conversation about the meaning of climbing, and the why’s etc, and both agreed that climbing and trekking should be about a purpose, or a view, and not just ‘because it’s a number on a list’. The guide had a particular hatred of Skiddaw as the mountain itself is barren. I just looked at them and asked “so why are we doing this one, as the only reason is it is number 4?”!

At the bottom the guide suddenly turned back to the peak, stuck his middle finger in the air and shouted “F*** you, you piece of s***” at the mountain. Sadly he hadn’t noticed the fell runner that had been catching us, and we were concerned the runner thought the shout was for him. Apologies were made, and we quietly got back into the van to take us back to the warmth of the B&B.

So the annual Senior Manager Challenge was Done.

There remained only one thing left to do. I said to Layth “what goes on tour, stays on tour”. He understood immediately.

Out came his phone and he deleted Saturday night’s pictures.

*Actually, it’s the only line I know. I don’t even know what follows it.

** As he’s a guy that hates unfinished business, he returned a few months later to climb them.