Wasdale Head to Snowdonia
Baylis will be required for driving duties later and thusly requires some kip, so I take over the navigation to get us back onto the M6. Cumbrian A roads meander all over the place and we are losing a lot of time, having only allotted 4½ hrs for the drive to Snowdon. Presently Baylis receives a call from his family with some good news. His sister has given birth to a baby boy! Hugo James Sanders was born at 0645 weighing 8 lbs. What were we doing at 0645 this morning? Why I do believe we were the highest people in the country! I don't know why you have to quote the weight when mentioning births; it just seems to be one of those things. Tiredness is setting in and MORT almost drifts into the hedge / kerb on several occasions. I would be more worried about this but I'm having great difficulty keeping my eyes open.
We finally reach the service station on the M6 for driver change and this is when I receive something of a shock, as my knee won't actually bend. Far from having recovered during the journey, it has in fact seized up and it is with great pain and effort that I clamber into the back. And I'm not the only one - MORT and Baylis are in trouble too and it's ibuprofen all round. I whack some deep heat on the tendons (kindly supplied by Dale who thinks of everything) and cross my fingers.
I'm going under. Things're bad
The best route to Snowdon is debatable, but in the end we decide to tank it along the dual carriageway that runs along the top of Wales (praying there's no traffic), turn left at Conwy and then right at Betws-y-Coed (pronounced Betsy Coid). Then we can park up at Pen-y-Pass which is the closest car park to the summit, leaving only a 725m climb. It is reputed to be very busy at this time of year but we are late and injured, so it has to be tried.
Traffic is fine and we don't lose any additional time to what we haemorrhaged in Cumbria. We stop for a 'personal needs break' behind a bush approaching Betws- y-Coed and now it's both me and Baylis who can't walk. In fact the Baylis left knee is so bad it can't even operate the clutch, so MORT takes over the driving for the final few miles. We get to the Pen y Pass car park and surprise surprise there's a big sign saying it's full. We hope this might mean it's only slightly full, but no, on closer inspection it's completely full, no more room, go away, please try later.
Gloomy
With no option other than to drive on, it's a very gloomy party making it's way down towards Llanberis. We digest the fact that we are now half an hour late, we have 250m more climb to do and we are all injured to some extent and the question is do we
- give it a shot
- sod the time limit and try to complete the course with at least some degree of enjoyment or
- accept that we are in no state to continue and go to sleep / the pub.
I'm all for carrying on even if I have to crawl, but Baylis is on hand to inject some sense into the conversation. He points out that it is in no way our fault if we are forced to stop. Our joints not working is no slight against our fitness levels, and it would be reckless and foolhardy, not to mention stupid, to risk permanent damage by attempting to fulfil some meaningless goal that we are obviously not ready for. We don't have anything to prove and bailing out at this stage is the mature and sensible decision.
What a load of claptrap! Dale, isn't badly injured and wants to give it a go. MORT has a healthy stubborn streak and is not going to let a little thing like uncooperative limbs stop him. And me, I pride myself on being reckless and immature. So Baylis is eventually persuaded that with enough ibuprofen and ibuprofen gel and deep freeze and deep heat and knee supports and as long as we don't push ourselves too hard and stick to the well travelled path, we may as well give it a shot.