Two Idiots Go Ice Climbing

It's the early hours of Easter sunday morning. I am half asleep enjoying the last few hours of slumber until I have to get up. I need to be out the door for 5am. Then my phone starts ringing. The bright flashing light dazzling my eyes in the darkness. It feels early like I knew it would but it feels too early. Something is not right. I answer the phone. It is my climbing partner Ben. I get that dreaded feeling that he is cancelling our trip. I answer.

"Hey man I'm about 15 minutes from your gaffe!"Ben tells me. So he is not cancelling. Quite the opposite. I give a half concious muttering reply saying that I'll be ready and I'll see him shortly. I begin to think about how I'm going to get ready in fifteen minutes when I see the clock on my phone. It's only 0345. Thats why I still feel knackered. Ben has not put his clock forward and has got up an hour earlier. I can't ring him and tell him because he is nearly here. I staple my upper eyelids to my forehead and go downstairs.

I get my gear ready in record time and feel pretty pleased with myself.  My phone rings and lets me know that Ben is outside. Suddenly I remember that I havent made a flask up and panic. If a situation ever called for caffeine this was it. I quickly boil the kettle and it seems to take longer to boil than usual. I beckon it to boil faster like a crazed kettle coach. Boil bitch boil! It finishes and I run out of the door with the flask in my hand and the teabag still inside. Something tells me we are going to need it.

We load up Chi Chi the van and blast off towards Scotch Corner through the empty sunday morning streets. We reach the motorway and engage warpspeed. Ben hands me some indecipherable directions he has written on a piece of paper the size of a postage stamp and we are away. Borrowdale or bust.

On the way we stop at a garage near Penrith to get some supplies. We get out of the van and whilst Ben disappears for a call of nature I stand at the serving hatch/window of the garage staring at the shop assistant who is stacking some shelves. I carry on waiting and staring. The shop assistant just turns around and stares at me with no intention of serving me. What the hell is he playing at? As I begin to get cross I see another customer walk up to the automatic door, which magically opens and he steps inside. It then dawns on me at that exact moment how much I must resemble a crazy person. It also dawns on me how dodgy it must look, me staring through the window for the last five minutes, a van with the engine running behind me and my mate running out of sight. The shop assistant probably thinks we're going to do the place over. I go inside to make my purchases and make it clear that I'm not there to rob the place then quickly scurry away into the night.

We reach Borrowdale as the sun is rising to reveal the tops of the fells, their silhouettes shaped against the blue morning sky. We leave Chi Chi in a National Trust Car park and after gearing up, we start out on the approach to Raven Crag. The walk takes us about an hour and we can soon make out another team at the bottom of the Gully getting ready to start as well as one already on the route.

At the bottom of the crag we have a quick brew and put on our crampons. The first pitch looks interesting but we get cracking and Ben sets off on the lead. The pitch has some awkward moves but we soon pass the difficulties and start moving up the route. On the third pitch I make the schoolboy error of dropping an ice screw. As it bounces down the gully out of sight I practice my swear word pronunciation and hear a reply come up the gully. "Someone owes me a beer!". The ice screw has been rescued. My wallet has been saved but not my blushes.

We carry on up until we reach the final pitch which is supposedly the best on the route and one of the best in the Lakes. Judging by the evidence we can see of recent traffic its not hard to believe. It does look immense. At the top are fantastic ice umbrellas which beckon you to climb up to them and see what is beyond. We are going to enjoy this.

The pitch is as good as hoped for and we soon reach the top. The view is awesome and the fells go on for miles in every direction. Buzzing from our achievement we head down the hill back down into the valley hoping we can still make it home to spend some of the remaining Easter sunday with our neglected other halves.

Ben on the awesome last pitch

 

We make it back to the car park which is now full with visitors in stark contrast to the hour at which we arrived. Whilst we sort out gear the National Trust volunteer manning the car park appears to use Jedi mind tricks to make Ben buy membership. He is soon handing over nineteen of his English pounds. I am stood looking at the NT guy and thinking to myself "that guy is good".

We hit the road once more and on the way we call at the same petrol station we had visited earlier that morning. Ourselves and the van are in need of fuel so we pull up. Ben fills the tank whilst I locate the toilet.  I have a look around the shop then see Ben stood in the line for the bog. Eventually its my turn and after spending a penny I emerge to see Ben walking away from the counter having paid for his bits. I grab myself a drink, pay and get back in the van.

We get about an hour down the road when I tell Ben that I have the money for the petrol that I owe him in my pocket. The response I get isn't what I expect.
"I thought you paid for it at the petrol station before dude"
"So you didn't pay for it back there?" I ask, starting to realise what we may have done or more appropriately, not done.
"No". Ben informs me.
"Fuck". I reply.

We try and think how we ended up driving away from a petrol station with £30 worth of petrol and not paying. Then it dawns on us that the police might be after us. Shit shit shit shit shit!! We both check our wing mirrors out of paranoia. In five minutes we have gone from all conquering ice climbers to wanted criminals. We are a pair of fucking idiots.

We start to think of a way to solve our problem.We can't drive back because it would be a massive detour. If we can get in touch with the petrol station surely we can pay by card. We try and remember the name of the petrol station or where exactly it is. Nothing comes to mind. Ben gets an idea and rings his mate who amazingly gives us the name and a quick google later we have the number. I ring them and get through to the counter assistant. I tell him what we have done, how sorry we are and that he can call off the taskforce.  He tells me not to worry and that he didnt even know we hadn't paid until we rang him. Fucks sake.

I finally pay for the petrol a hour and a half after it has gone into the tank and we relax. Our reign of terror is over. I promise myself to stay on the straight and narrow.  No more thuglife. We soon reach familiar surroundings and eventually my house. I drag my kit from Ben's van and say goodbye to my partner in crime.

I get in the house, ditch my kit to sort out on a later date and stick my cold roast dinner in the microwave. After inhaling every morsel, I climb into bed to recharge and think about how I'm going to make it up to Emma after not spending Easter sunday with her. Then I remember that I have work again tomorrow. I think about the long awesome day I've had today and try not to think about the day I've got tomorrow. I pull the duvet over my head and go into a coma.