Heading to the CIC Hut and Ben Nevis for a few days with friends.
How many times have I walked that path?
Through forestry and muddy track.
Bag bulging, sweat pouring,
Then the great cliffs mourning.
Watching the mist and clouds,
Emerge, along with memories.
Many happy, many sad.
Long carries in the dead of night,
With unknown people.
Each glad to be alive,
All helped by fellow climbers.
In the gloom avalanches crash,
We struggle over frozen burn and icy rock.
There is a special joy
Getting someone off alive
Off that hill that does at times kill.
Not just the tourist, but many, with great skill.
Why do we climb?
If you ask you do not know?
This “Ben”, this mountain,
The ridges, the climbs:
summer and winter
Its names full of history and mystery.
Clears in the mist.
This mountain means so much,
Too me and many friends.
It will never change.
Then as now
Its ever-changing snow and ice.
As are the familiar names,
Of cliff and buttress
Where we play our games?
Tales of great climbs,
Days and nights on this hill.
These are special to those who:
Know the secret of this magic place.
Below the great cliffs
The hut nestles
Long nights with heroes and egos
History and mystery
This is why we go and always will.
On this great hill.
Thank you Ben Nevis for a lifetime of Memories!
Ben Nevis ¨No one who has seen the skyward thrust of a snow peak, girdled by its early morning cloud and flushed with the low sun, will dispute with me.¨
¨Follow a long ridge of encrusted snow to its sunset tower and tread the summit at moonrise. This is Scottish winter climbing!
¨¨W H Murray