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Over the New Year of 93/94 Chronic ventured up to the Scottish Highlands. Glen Coe
in particular and the Clachaig Inn. Not being there for the beer alone, Chronic made
the trek up the side of the valley (as web sites do) and spotted a short but attractive
frozen water fall. "I fancy getting my axes into that" Chronic announced, so it headed
across the snow slope and up towards it. It climbed an iced-over rock face and topped
out on a neat wind swept pile of snow. At this time Chronic was inexperienced of the
danger sign shapes that wind could create out of snow. Chronic had only gone and climbed
on top of a cornice over the valley wall. Looking around admiring the view, Chronic
was in awe at how clear the sky had become. Such a vibrant blue with a few wispy, thin
white clouds floating by as peaceful as though no one else was in the same world.
Pretty true for Chronic's little world!! Being so close to the ice fall, Chronic
scampered to its feet to continue, but for every 2 steps through the bottomless snow,
a huge chunck fell away below and left it only half a step of progress.
Chronic once again admired the sky and chose to leave the ice fall to share with some
more experienced mountaineers it had met in the pub. So it down climbed and sledged
back to the road on its rucksack.
In the winter of 95/96 Chronic gave mountaineering another go in the Lake District and
totally loved it. Chronic had dismissed England's mountains as little hills till that
trip. A slide down an icey gully leading to a snow covered scree slope threw Chronic
plummetting towards the iced
Stickle Tarn
of Langdale.
After that Chronic progressed to the heights of Snowdonia.
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