Rainbows in the Rock 61

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CHAOTER 61
The morning dawned in a lighter grey than the previous one had offered, and I assumed that meant rain. To my surprise, after I had dealt with my morning necessities, it turned out to be a dry one, the clouds having retreated well above the three thousand foot level. I started a couple of kettles heating, and that, along with the sound of the toilet flush, seemed to stir people up.

I cast an eye over the big mattresses, spotting singletons and couples slowly starting to stretch and mutter. Lee and Kitzy were still snuggled and snoring quietly in unison, which brought a smile to me, but Colin was already moving towards the ladder, followed by a murmured protest from Sali about letting the cold air into their double bag. Once the first brew was ready, I passed a mug up to Alys before heading back to the pile of breakfast goodies someone had left out for us. Start the sausages first, before…. No. Ish had tucked into gammon steak the night before; no assumptions, Hiatt.

People did indeed stir, and I was given an assortment of morning greetings that included, to my surprise, a hug from Kitzy.

She almost whispered into my ear, “Wasn’t drunk last night; meant what I said” before scuttling off to the loo, and then it was Uncle Mike, Mike, stirring beans as I turned sausages and set the grill ready for the bacon.

“Got a plan for today, love? Hint hint, not going anywhere near slate”

“Suppose it depends on Ish. I mean, I know what the rest of them are happy with”

He grinned.

“He actually has a request, and a Go-Pro”

“For?”

“The zip wires. I mean, nobody was that drunk last night, were they? Not likely to see any breakfasts return?”

“Well… if I can borrow his camera for myself, yeah! Is that his thing?”

“Sort of. He’s done a bit of bridge swinging, and when we went to the USA, well, bungee jumping. From a helicopter. Over the Grand Canyon”

“Cachu! Sorry, but, well, he’s so quiet!”

I tried to gather my thoughts, but all that came out was something about climbing and ropes, and Mike grinned back at me.

“I know, love. We both spend all our energy in not falling off, and the idea of doing it deliberately, well, as you say, cachu”

“How’s his fitness? I mean, if we did a walk somewhere?”

“Oh, he’s fit. Where did you have in mind?”

“if we do the zip wire thing, not today, and whatever we do, Sali and the rest will know it. Idwal, Twll Du, Glyderau, Tryfan South Col and Bochlwyd?”

Mike grinned at me.

“Your idea of a short walk is, well, what I should have expected. Your parents have produced a monster! Will he lose all respect if I say he wants to take the train from Llanberis?”

I stared at him for a few seconds.

“Would it surprise you if I say that I, myself, have never done that?”

He laughed out loud at that one.

“No, not at all! It would have astonished me if you had! Anyway, zip wires and Snowdon train, then? Save walking for tomorrow, or whenever we have some blue sky?”

Bloody train. We did that first, Sali and Colin dropping out on the basis of urgent potato-peeling or batter-making, or perhaps just the potential embarrassment. The service wasn’t even running its steam engines, so it was just the roar of the diesel that pulled us up. I made sure I got a seat on the right hand side, with Alys’ little binoculars ready, so that I could see what state Cloggy was in. I really needed a sounder partner than any of my fellow students for routes there, and the Woodruffs were still on their antipodean adventure, but I could always dream, just as I had been doing over some of the more way-out-there slate routes.

Were there any castles near Chamonix? Or on Skye? I needed to ramp up my research.

Our tickets gave us just enough time to tick the summit cairn as broken cloud drifted past, drink a cup of tea in the summit café and post a ‘specially-stamped’ postcard, before climbing back onto the train for the run back down to Llanberis. I felt completely out of place among the tourists, and almost wanted to cover my face.

Yes, the café staff recognised me. Arsebollocks.

I felt a little better about things when I saw how Ish was beaming and taking photos by the dozen. As he took a rapid series of shots looking across Llyn Llydaw towards Moel Siabod, I asked him what he thought.

“Magic, Enfys! It’s so spectacular, and so wet. Those waterfalls at the start were wonderful. Which way do you prefer to come up? Train’s not your style, is it?”

I pointed over towards Crib Goch, where a few figures were making their way across the narrow part.

“That’s my favourite, Ish. Narrow in places, so some people don’t like it”

“How narrow’s ‘narrow’, Enfys?”

I held out my hands, about shoulder’s width apart, and he sucked in a breath over his teeth.

“I see. So the train is, you know…?”

“Yes. And a couple of the people in the café knew me”

He laughed out loud at that, and as his eyes crinkled I could really see my Uncle Mike in him, especially when he asked if he should start limping badly, just to save my reputation. That started me laughing, just as Alys came up to us, so of course I had to explain, and my ride back down was a lot happier. My lover was holding forth on the changing ecology of the summit, with emphasis on cremations.

“So their loved one passes away, and for so many of them, this was a favourite spot, and it’s where they want their ashes scattered, and when I say ‘many’, I mean thousands and thousands. They shake their bags out, or tip their urns, and the ash gathers into crevices, and it’s got more nutrients than the soil around it. This soil has very low levels of calcareous---- sorry. You don’t need the detail. I just say thank god they don’t do it so much at Idwal. Plans for food when we get down, love?”

I shrugged.

“Ish wants to do the wires, so depends on whether we want to see whatever we eat a second time”

Lee overheard, calling back a quite snappy comment about lower bunks after pub nights, and we were still chuckling back at the car park.

Ish did indeed have a helmet camera, and so did his father, and so, of course did the zip-wire place, along with a prohibition on using any camera but theirs. I was ready to bail out once I saw the price of the ride, but Mike just shook his head and paid for my session. Alys dropped out on what she called ‘grounds of sanity’, but all of the rest stumped up. Two hours later, and we were all buzzing with post-adrenaline excitement. I hadn’t been entirely sure when I saw how we would be strapped in, as it reminded me of the conversation about bungee jumping. It didn’t feel right to be giving all safety control over to someone else, which went entirely against everything I did as a climber.

In the end, though, it was great fun, and I did pay for a souvenir video.

The next day stayed dry, and we did indeed walk the route I had suggested, Ish once again laughing with delight at everything from the Castle of the Winds to the Cantilever, and astounded at the way we could pick out the sheer number of people thronging the summit of Yr Wyddfa.

“I see what Alys meant about the numbers. Is it always that crowded?”

Kitzy answered that one.

“First time I went up was at Easter one year. That lot up there are nothing compared to peak season. And they all want somewhere to park, and then somewhere to, you know, do their business. Couple of the quitter paths, watch your step. At least ash can be brushed off”

Jordan called out, “Can I say ‘oh shit’ now?”

Mike twitched a little at that, giving me a sharp little look, and I saved other remarks for later, as we started the slower process of picking our way through the boulder field down to Llyn Caseg Fraith and the Miners’ Track. It’s a really gentle bit o terrain there, despite the tiny cliff to the North, the little pond tucked into a hollow in the grass with the Track itself cutting slantwise over the clifflet. It’s a place to linger and savour the mountain before that final drop down into the world of the people I remembered Jordan describing as ‘mundanes’. He may have been talking about those who didn’t get his preferred style of fantasy, but I could see his point.

How could anyone ever stand in such a place and not feel their soul refreshed? How could anyone not want to stand there?

We had to leave it, of course, for that mundane world still held such things as homes and beds, studies and a future, but always, always, one that held the promise of more moments of wildness and belonging.

That night, we simply settled into the bunkhouse as a group of friends and family, some bottles and cans from the offy complementing a mix of ‘camp cookery’ and additions from home kitchens, and I felt almost as much at peace as I had up by the little lake. I ended up slumped next to Mike, as Alys held an animated non-argument with Jordan about SF.

“Mike?”

“Yup?”

“You looked a bit funny up on the top, when Kitzy was talking about nasty stuff underfoot. You okay?”

He sighed deeply, mouth twisting a little as he finished.

“Something Pat said, love. That little shelter is a bit special to her”

“On Foel Grach? Oh, you mean with her and her man, aye?”

A slow and deep nod.

“Exactly that. Apparently, she was up there once, with a friend, the one who has the children’s home, and someone had used it as a toilet. That one really hurt her, she says”

“I can imagine why!”

“Your lesson for today, I suppose. My question to you. Relevant one, I promise: what were you thinking back there? Just before where the Miners’ drops off the saddle, you were staring off into the distance, like you were in a dream”

I shook my head, smiling at the memory.

“Nothing much, really. I just find that spot to be so lovely, calm, aye? I was, the words, well: something like asking how anyone could stand there and not feel like I did, or even not want to stand there in the first place, and then I remembered something Jordan said, about people who don’t get science fiction. ‘Mundanes’, he called them, and it just fitted the moment”

“Yup again. ‘Danes’. Thing is, not everyone has that depth of spirit, of vision. Plenty of people up on the hills who see them as a place to play their specific game, and nothing more. Like the people who see a crag as the same thing as a climbing wall, and nothing more. They can’t lift their eyes to the hills because they haven’t got the soul to do so. Just remember that when you start work, Enfys, because as sure as eggs are eggs, you will come across any number of people who not only won’t, can’t embrace our world, but will actually shit all over it”

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Comments

Not Being A Rocketeer

joannebarbarella's picture

I did the railway in both directions on a beautiful day. The photo opportunities were amazing and I'll never forget the air force jets racing through the valley hundreds of feet below, dodging rocks at high speed.

And if I'm a mundane it doesn't prevent me from being an SF afficionado.