Ok, so Ben Nevis isn't really that bad. Mark and I only started joking about calling it Murder Mountain as we were on our way down when we heard (and saw) a murder of crows nearby making a big racket. (Did you know that three or more crows together is known as a murder? Now you do!)
However, once we returned from the mountain - seven hours later - our B & B host decided to inform us that about four people a year DIE on the mountain! In fact, in 2013, it seems that 11 people had died on the mountain by February that year. I knew that it was the highest peak in the U.K. but nothing I'd read indicated that it was treacherous or required specialized equipment. Apparently most of the deaths occur when people try to summit it in the winter when there's snow on the ground - and can't tell they're getting close too the edge!
Speaking of which, Mark had a bit of a SNAFU when he was running/climbing the Ben. He found himself alone, next to a rock cairn, and in the midst of a fog bank. He didn't see anyone else and assumed he'd made it to the top so he started back down to meet me. An hour or two later when I finally dragged my carcass up to that point, wheezing the whole way, with him tagging along for his second victory lap, the mist had cleared and he realized that the actual summit was still several hundred yards away, beyond a snowy pass, and by that time, teeming with other climbers. He hurried to run to what was really the top, adding the additional time on to his original run time, while I continued slogging away to make it to the summit. We both made it to the top, where much rejoicing and pictures were had but if Mark if continued on into the foggy, snow-covered peak the first time, he might have been one of the Ben's 4 yearly victims. For once, Mark's impatience paid off handsomely! ;)
On top of the world!
Well, on top of the UK anyway! ;)
My conquered foe in the background! :)
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