The following article appeared in the programme for Racing Club Warwick v Eccleshall on 17th September 2005.
If you’re a loyal Racing Club follower and you bought the programme at our last home game you’ll know that, in my quest to give myself a thorough fitness examination during the pre-season in order to understand how the players must feel, I had decided to do the three peaks. Having “conquered” Snowdon, I had arrived at Ravenglass railway station with Scafell Pike awaiting me. The story continues…
11:00 Friday 24th June
We disembark and climb immediately aboard another train, this time it’s a narrow gauge steam train courtesy of the Ravenglass & Eskdale Railway – railway buffs: eat your heart out! The train takes us seven miles in around 40 minutes to Dalegarth where we commence a four-mile walk to Brackenclose and the foot of Scafell Pike. Perhaps this was my first mistake of the day? A four-mile walk before even beginning the ascent of Scafell Pike? Still, according to all concerned, it would be flat (unfortunately this wasn’t true).
14:00 Friday 24th June
We lunched on our pre-packed food before commencing peak number two. Scafell Pike is the highest mountain in England at 978 metres / 3,210 feet and is the smallest of the three peaks. Underestimate the little ones at your peril! Scafell was the one that almost did for my entire challenge! We began to climb and, with strong sunshine beating down on us and a particularly steep ascent, I was soon in need of windscreen wipers for my glasses such was the perspiration dripping off me (I hope that you’re not eating as you read this!). By halfway I was totally knackered. This was where the rest of my team came to my rescue. The other three, recognising that I was struggling, slowed down to my pace and positive encouragement became the order of the day. Scafell was fast becoming an ordeal and I was certainly not enjoying it. It became a question of mind over matter and I concentrated on continuing to put one foot in front of the other despite wishing that I was sat at home with my weary feet up. After what seemed like several hours, but what was actually only the two hours that they reckon we should have taken, the summit came into view to my immense relief. I was just a little bit emotional: I really had thought that I wouldn’t make it (a look at my face in the left-hand picture below tells you all you need to know about how knackered I was!). The only thing to spoil the moment of achievement was the prospect of the descent! Once again the descent was difficult with my tiredness adding to the difficulty of finding the next foothold. Apparently the technique for descent is to lean forwards rather than back in order that your feet are less prone to slipping. This goes against the habits of a lifetime (well mine anyway) and so I was putting far more strain on my knees than I should have been. So this is what the walking poles were for! I was learning the hard way. On the way down we must have been overtaken by a dozen of the other participating teams due to my slowness. We made it down in around two hours and it was straight onto an awaiting mini-bus back to Ravenglass station and the Ratty Arms.
18:00 Friday 24th June
The Ratty Arms Public House is the miniature railway’s own pub and is converted from the original station building. Importantly it sells ice-cold lager! Like the scene from “Ice Cold in Alex” the thought of that pint kept me going all the way down Scafell. I was in need of serious refreshment! A couple of pints and a plate of chips perked me up but Scafell had been such an ordeal for me that the final peak was worrying me. It had been mentioned to me that doing the three peaks meant merely an ascent of all three – I therefore put out of my head all thoughts of having to go up and down Ben Nevis tomorrow and concentrated on the going up part alone. Kidding myself for sure but at least it halved the size of my problem! It was on this basis that I determined to give Ben Nevis a go despite being told that it was the hardest of the lot. It was certainly going to be the highest!
20:15 Friday 24th June
The train leaves Ravenglass in Cumbria bound for Fort William, Scotland. If you’re not too sure of your geography, Fort William is a good couple of hour’s drive north of Glasgow on the West coast. It’s a seriously long way from anywhere! This leg of our train journey is scheduled to take us 9 ½ hours! After a nice but airline-sized meal rustled up by the Virgin catering staff, permission is given for the sleeping bags to come out and the carriages of our charter train are soon festooned with snoring bodies in the aisles and between the seats. I’m sure that if the overhead luggage racks had been wider there would have been stinking dishevelled hikers up there too! Our breakfast alarm call was at 4AM! Morning all! Groan! I am delighted to find that my weary limbs and sore knees have been rested sufficiently to feel “only” slightly tired.
06:00 Saturday 25th June
Two double-decker buses greet us for the short transfer from Fort William station to the start point in the visitor car park at Glen Nevis. The final part of the challenge is about to begin. At 1,343 Metres or 4,406 Feet above sea level, Ben Nevis is the highest mountain in Britain. The next highest point if you head east is the Urals apparently! I shan’t be walking up those! The name 'Nevis' comes from the Gaelic word for heaven or clouds. Ben Nevis can therefore be translated 'mountain with its head in the clouds' or 'cloudy mountain'. It lived up to its name on this particular Saturday. The climb is relatively straightforward and, by 9AM we’re having our photos taken again at another summit (the little white snow tiger in the picture has been left at the top by another poor soul required to cart stuff up to the top of Ben Nevis – thank god mine was only a Racing club pennant!). We’ve done it! Another emotional moment. Never again I say and mean it!
The journey down has the added thrill of being a race against the clock. We’ve lingered at the top of Ben Nevis for 20 minutes and now we’re up against it to get back for the final bus back to Fort William station that leaves at 12:15. It took us three hours to get up so we have to get down in not more than two hours 55 minutes. My sore knees hold out and we make it with 15 minutes to spare. Nothing left to do but climb aboard the train for the nine-hour journey back to Crewe, a nice hot shower at home and a real bed! Bliss!
So you’ll not be hearing me slagging any of the players if they look a little “robust” following the inactivity of the summer. Pre-season training? You can keep it! I’ll stick to the Social Club in future!
Keep the faith!
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