Ben Nevis Part Two – The Rematch

The rematch of me, Jacquelyn, and climbing the highest peak in Scotland only became a thing having ‘failed’ my first attempt to Summit Ben Nevis in April 2019. It was one of those situations where life goes on, but inside you have kept a mental note. And even noted it on your ‘things to do’ list.

I waited patiently for when the time would come, when the re-attempt would be made (or rematch as I am coining it). One of my many mantras is “we go again” - in the pursuit of my many goals in life.

The Ben Nevis summit stayed on my list during the rest of 2019 Into 2020. Some call it a bucket list, I simply call it a list. A list of things to do – adventures, experiences, destinations, future achievements – a variety of all sorts. ‘Things’ that keep my interest as I know will fill me with joy, and I might learn something along the way.

Ben Nevis kept my interest.

The last attempt was abandoned when there was a white out at the time, literally minutes away from where the summit was – how did I know? The blue ‘location’ dot on my map signalled where I stood when I froze and decided to turn back. Mere meters away from the other significant location on the map – the summit. I took a screenshot and kept it as a memory of how far, or how near, I was to the summit. Agonising close.

The rematch was scheduled for the end of a four day trip exploring the stunning North Coast 500 in the highlands of Scotland, affectionally known as NC500. I knew all I had to do was arrive in Fort William then I would go into semi auto pilot. The nice thing about a rematch is you have attempted that thing before. And it is no longer big, new, shiny, or filled with uncertainty. I knew the route – all up until 2 minutes from the summit.

After three days exploring the winding roads, the rugged coastline and mesmerizing vistas along and around the NC500, I arrived into Fort William late on Sunday 31st May. Scotland, thanks to the weather gods, was experiencing blue skies and the dreamiest sunsets – the whole trip up until this point was perfect. And it continued. This weekend was mother nature showing off. I just had to keep up.

When I checked into my hotel, I knew all I had to do was work out my planned hike time around breakfast.

First, what does a girl do when you can either chill in your hotel room waiting for hike day to arrive, maybe have a bath or watch some TV? I popped on my running clothes and went for a dreamy sunset run. I am that weird animal where I gain energy from running – most people do, but also most people listen to the voices in their heads – declaring ‘I am tired’. I was so glad I went for the run, alongside a deer who sprinted along as the sun set across the Loch. The definition of stillness.

I felt a bundle of calm energy fill me up.

When I woke the next day, I enjoyed the hotel breakfast knowing it would be welcome fuel for my body as I hiked to the heady heights of 1,345 m. ‘Let’s do this’ I muttered as I drove the five minutes to the start car park. Already packed at 8.30am. It was a glorious day, with blue skies forecast and a barmy 21 degrees.

Don’t worry I 100% respect a mountain adventure and knew even though the forecast for Fort William was blue skies and 21 degrees, mountains have their own weather system.

I had turned detective the night before and used the location search on Instagram to view photos posted from the same day at the summit. All showing signs of deep snow. I smiled at the thought. Snow brings an extra edge to any adventure, and the thought of summit photos with the blue sky backdrop and snow was something that excited me.

I was so ready for this adventure.

My backpack full of snacks, water and a couple of layers – though I doubted I would need them. Off I went. Earphones in ready for all the podcasts, my chosen companion ready to start the familiar hike.

The mind is a wonderful beast – it can either keep us caged if we associate a previous experience to fear, uncertainty and risk or it guides us like a comfort blanket – guiding us along flooding us with nostalgic type memories. Acting as a guide, a beacon of hope, reminding you ‘you can do hard stuff’.

I wasn’t worried or apprehensive about hiking Ben Nevis again – I had associated positive emotions to the experience therefore there was nothing to worry about. It was merely a leisurely walk on a blue sky day – to the highest point in Scotland. It sounds the dream, and it was.

At times I would recall parts of the trek like it was only yesterday I walked the same path – crazy how it had been 2 years ago, but I suppose there had been a pandemic in 2020 that stole all the fun from life. I turned a corner on the route towards the waterfall – which I recognised – but I couldn’t remember the last time having to walk over it, this felt a new addition. Yes to new excitement. Then, as I looked up there was the familiar wooden bridge, the point where you stop criss crossing and start to march up and up. Higher and Higher.

2019 memories all flooding back like old chums.

What I love about hiking is all the characters you spot and acknowledge along the way. Mainly with the polite “morning” or more gentle “hello” type of acknowledgment. Or sometimes simply a nod and smile. All having their own adventures.

There was the female who pretty near the start seemed to be calling time on her hike.

“Already”, I thought.

She was descending at a crawl pace, with the use of walking sticks, declaring to the next set of walkers “I will be back some other time, my knees just aren’t in it”. If I am honest, I doubt she will be back. She was about 15 minutes walk into what would eventually take me 2.5hrs.

You can’t train your knees for a hike, only your mind.

Next up I encountered the family where the mum was having a bit of a mini tantrum disguised as a ‘just give me a minute’ moment. She sat perched on a big boulder as her husband and two kids looked around, a little awkwardly, wondering how to coax her off the boulder. I nodded and smiled as I tip toed past.

There were the groups, a mixture of males and females. Probably some couples or friends. Moving at a leisurely pace, with the males in front – leading the charge.

Then me, meandering along, in my own little bubble. At one point I stopped for a banana and sat on a boulder watching my surroundings. No rush, appreciating the moment.

I was wearing a short sleeve top, in May, hiking the highest mountain in Scotland – in 2021. I felt free as a bird. The thought of the Covid pandemic was not in my bubble. Covid doesn’t exist up Ben Nevis when your mind is focused on the present hike challenge.

As I continued on, again the route felt familiar. This brought in a level of comfort, the end goal feels within your reach. Your mind can’t invent any hurdles as you know what is around the corner.

As I reached a point in the trek, I knew I was relatively close to the last chunk. I like to chunk things up. Chunks of time – 30 mins. Or Chunks of distance, marked by a change in terrain. Or chunked by when I fancied a snack break. This final chunk was signalled by a turn in the route I recognised and a slight change in the terrain. I was overtaking a new set of characters. A family with the dad in the lead position, then teenage son then the mum. The mum trying to keep up but slowly suffocating in all her layers. I had slipped on a zip up hoodie, but it was unzipped – sleeves rolled up as it still felt warm even as we marched towards the summit. With only a slight chill in the air as an indication we were at altitude.

I took the opportunity to check in with the family – I did that thing when you look for a bit of reassurance from someone other than you, telling yourself “I think we are quite near the summit”. The dad confirmed he also felt we were on the final chunk. Maybe 45mins away. I nodded and slipped past them.

Soon I came eye to eye with the snow and all the memories of that first summit came flooding back. This reminds me of running a half marathon. There is a point in a half marathon where things just start to accelerate. It is usually with 5km left, everyone knows the finish line is near-ish and their goal is in sight-ish. It is really heard to explain but you feel a shift in energy, where all your hardwork has been for this point.

I was at the equivalent point on Ben Nevis.

The minute you spot the first signs of snow, you know, even though it is not literally around the corner, the summit is close. Very close. An energy shifts, and any deary trekker suddenly finds their missing energy. I could feel it in me. I was no longer listening to podcasts but enjoying being around like minded people. This is the spot where I first glimpsed the new character in the Ben Nevis summit story. On the final ascend there is a mini hill completely covered in snow. Not the fluffy cute stuff, the ‘this is hard to trek in’ snow. Your legs are burning from the trek, and now you are ankle deep in snow. So I followed the footsteps being made from a guy in front, with his dog. I was pacing him, always one footstep behind. Until he stopped and I nearly walked straight into him. Awkwardly. He looked round and I smiled. Then I charged on. He shouted something and I replied by shouting “if you stop now, you will get stuck”. I kept the snow charge on and reached the top of the mini snow hill. I could see the point I reached before, it was just over a slight ridge. I paused and smiled.

The weather was still blue, blue skies everywhere. But I remembered how quickly the weather turned the last time, the minute I stepped over the horizon of the ridge. So I did that thing I do, I seeked reassurance. I saw a guy stand about, as if waiting for someone. I enquired about the summit and he muttered the words I wanted to hear ‘it is perfect up there, blue skies and literally over that ridge’. He smiled as I explained my slight apprehensive and felt excitement flood in. He was waiting for his mum and step dad as they were on the pursuit of completing the Three Peaks Challenge.

The Three Peaks Challenge is one of the most popular trekking challenges in the UK and involves climbing the highest mountains in Scotland, England and Wales (Ben Nevis, Scafell Pike and Snowdon), one after another – with an aim to complete the challenge within 24 hours.

This short delay allowed the snow footsteps guy, who I was following, to catch up and we got chatting as we strolled to the summit. Yes, the final was a stroll. The end is always easy, after all the hard work. He was a true character. Trekking solo as his two mates had cancelled on him. It was complicated. “Life is”, I explained.

We were both awarded the rewards of the solo life. Not waiting for others to join us.

As we stepped over the ridge, I saw it. The summit. What a feeling – it was simply perfect and a little busy. Like a busy Saturday on the main shopping high street in Glasgow. All sorts of characters, some the snow man seemed to know from the trek up.

Then we did that social activity everyone on Ben Nevis came to do, we stood on the summit of the highest point in Scotland and took lots of photos - arms in the air, the glory shot. He took my snaps, I took his. The dog was there. It was so playful. I then got involved in a photoshoot, suggested by him but somehow involving me jumping in the air like not a care in the world. The summit attempt failure from 2019 was so far from my memories.

I think I was squealing as he kept telling me to jump, again and again, until he got that snap. The snap you share on social media. Just to think we didn’t even know each other existed ten minutes before. This is what happens, when you go with the flow of life.

There were a few real characters at the top.

First up a couple wearing their wedding outfits – yip, a wedding dress and full on kilt. With a dog. Talking lots of photos. It was a little confusing whether they hiked up wearing their wedding attire or if they changed on the summit. I know, wildness! Then we had the guys with their tops off – yes I can confirm, there were bare chested men on the summit. With their tunes blaring, vibing ridiculously high.

What a day and what a summit experience. We were both taking it all in. Enjoying the playfulness nature of this sacred location in Scotland.

We briefly parted ways. He was the chatty type and I wasn’t sure about descending together. It was going to be 2.5hrs, all trekking with a stranger. I felt a little torn. One thought shouted “Be sociable”, then I could hear my introvert shout, “how dreamy to stroll down alone with your tunes”.

In the end the universe had plans for us and we formed a gang. Me, him and the dog. The sociable me was in her element.

A gentle music infused stroll back down the mountain turned into a wild and playful descend. Full of all the chat and all the carry on. It was the start of a beautiful Ben Nevis trek friendship. I knew the minute the trek was over, so would be the friendship. Did he? Nope, I found out the slightly awkward way.

We chatted non stop to the backdrop of the mountain, surrounded by blue skies. It was surreal to think this was Scotland, the highlands, in May. He was lots of fun with all sorts of stories to share. To say we were bouncing off each was an understatement. Again, I found myself squealing as he shared some life stories from St Annes, near Blackpool. The long hike down soon disappeared as we kept up an active pace, paused briefly to let others pass us by and generally enjoyed the human connection we have all missed during the various covid lockdowns. We would recognise some people from the trek up, hours behind – not quite sure what they have been doing but I suppose that is hike like. Everyone is having their own experiences.

As we enjoyed the sunshine and fresh air I ended up giving him some female advice on a couple of dating situations he found himself in. In the end I explained you need to set boundaries and not lead people on, don’t give mixed messages and sometimes be a little honest and harsh to get the message across. Especially with us romance led females who don’t always read the very complex and complicated signs presented to us from males.

Experiences can just be that. A moment, a shared experience. A playful experience. Nothing more.

I sensed what was coming as we reached the Ben Nevis Visitor Center. When you live your life in a playful manner there is always a risk it is misread as more. And yes, that happened. The full of life character, described as snow footsteps guy for the story turned bold, looked me in the eye and asked that question – “do you want my phone number?”.

“Aww no”, I thought.

I politely shook my head and replied “No”.

He thought I didn’t understand, and continued “we could keep in touch, you come visit and stay over – maybe hike together”.

I just remember the same advise I gave him “don’t lead people on”. And I knew by taking his number I would be leading him on. I am big on boundary setting.

I wished him well as I scurried away to my car and set off on the drive back to Glasgow. I had mumbled something along the lines, “The trek down has been really lovely, let’s leave it there”.

So yeah, I hiked Ben Nevis Summit solo.

What did I learn from the summit success:

• Chat to people, share an experience but keep your boundaries. Just ‘cause you chat to someone doesn’t mean you are sending the wrong signals. I have had so many fun times with complete strangers, like minded strangers. Many I will never see again. No details shared. Such is life.

• Enjoy the moment and let life flow then go with the flow.

• Remember it is difficult to actually train for a hike. You can ‘train’ by increasing your time on feet through deliberate walking or running. Strengthen your knees with some stair walking or tackling an uphill route on your walks or runs, but the reality is it is kind of impossible to replicate the mountain train. So go gentle, take your time, and use walking sticks if you need some support.

• Check in and seek reassurance when you need it. Sometimes all we need is to hear we are on track, or the summit is within reach.

• Just because it went wrong before, doesn’t mean it will go wrong again. Start afresh and be positive.

• Do your research, even when you have hiked the same route - don’t get complement.

• Make the hike your own. Enjoy podcasts, pop on your favourite music, start up some chats, have regular breaks and be present in the moment.

• The return tastes sweeter as you remember the fear of the first attempt. Acknowledge your progress and celebrate your ‘win’. Not everyone makes the summit, or even attempts it - especially solo.

• Have fun, and appreciate the wonder that is nature. Enjoy each step, each struggle and pause at the top. The views will take your breath away.

Happiness is like the mountain summit. It is sometimes hidden by clouds, but we know it is there.

Helen Keller