The Importance Of Being Very Well Prepared For Trekking

Like a lot Brits, I was caught off-guard by the cold wintertime of 2009. I will keep in mind December 17th specially well because, unusual for me, I was unready for the weather and the events of the day. I had enjoyed the day rambling, it was freezing and the very first few snowflakes fell during the first part of the afternoon. I reside in Ingleton however had been rambling around the spectacular Ribblehead Valley, taking in its renowned viaduct. I retired to the local watering hole for something to eat and a crafty beer ahead of travelling home. However by the time Id cleared my plate, there was roughly six inches of snowfall. The pub is high in the fells inside Yorkshires Three Peaks and such amazingly swift snowfall is known to take place. My auto at that period of time was a modest hatchback, which can be far from ideal in such weather conditions and so I promptly was mindful I had a concern. The already crushed snow on the road had soon assumed the characteristics of ice. I saw that this had ended up in at least two vehicles sliding and becoming stuck in the snow-covered moorland.

At all times an optimist, I made my way to my vehicle, fired it up, placed it in gear slowly and gradually but despite my maximum endeavours, it travelled only two feet, backwards. There turned out to be precious little grippage for the tyres in these types of circumstances, so every time I tried to manoeuvre in the direction of the highway the little hatchback only slid rearwards all over again. By this juncture it was getting late, the snowfall kept coming and also the sun was going down. So, armed with no other option, I went back in to the pub to prepare myself for a staggerng task; I was going to have to walk back home. I had along with me a high-visibility coat and a couple of cycle lights. They would guarantee I would not be very slowly run over by an out-of-control bus. Having said that, because I hadnt expected to be outside for very long, particularly not in snow and darkness I had not brought my good jacket.

I had on my regular trekking garments of fleece, waterproof coat, military surplus trousers, sturdy boots and (by chance) thick hosiery because the trip happened to be seven leagues. It was rapidly becoming obvious that this degree of apparel wouldnt nearly be ample. I knew the pub landlord and he lent me a bright flashlight and a cosy head-covering for the trek to my home. He at the same time gave me a large measure of whiskey For luck. And warmth.

So, thus gowned, I began my hike back home. One thing I discovered about wintertime rambling is never to walk over a paved roadway, which is a recipe for sliding and many injuries, stick to the verge at the roadside. This I learned the hard way when I fell on a slight incline and ended up skidding along. For the next 4 hours, I made the path across the valley, teeth banging so hard I had a sore head. My face hurt with the cold whats more I appeared ridiculous with my borrowed pink woollen hat and bike lights strapped on with string. In the end I fell into my local pub, I am told, appearing like a cross between the Yeti and St. nicholas, so red were my cheeks. I recovered with the heat and a little traditional hot tea, a close friend offered to drive me the rest of the way home, for which I am eternally thankful. His suggestions stuck with me and I could not forget it. Next time, pack a great jacket, just in case. Good words indeed.