Snowdon at night, 20th-21st August 2016

This was the last of three events in a row working for RAW Adventures, who had been hired to provide mountain safety by Action Challenge, who were staging the event for Macmillan, the cancer charity, for their fundraising.

I had been up Snowdon the day before (up the PYG Track and down the Llanberis Path with new-found friend Liz), and it had been blustery, wet, and foggy. During the night the weather had worsened, and by morning half the tents at Llwyn Celyn Bach camp site had either blown down or were looking very sorry for themselves: it did not look at all promising for the night ahead. I started to formulate plans in my mind as to how far up the mountain it would be safe to take my group, hoping I could get them to Clogwyn bridge but wondering if even that would be too far.

Late in the evening, the winds eased off a little and became less gusty, and with a favourable general synopsis and a favourable detailed forecast from a local and well-informed source, we set off at midnight via the road that passes west of (behind) the camp site, the footpath which crosses Afon Arddu and emerges just above Stefan's café, and the Llanberis Path.

At Hebron Gate the participants were organised into groups and Mountain Leaders assigned to them: I was the lead ML for a mid-paced group of 29 participants, working with International ML Lotte and assistant ML Martin.

As we advanced at a deliberately slow steady pace long the Llanberis Path the visibility grew steadily worse, and I experienced a strange disorientation. Although I know that the path was rising in front of me, and I could feel this in my leg muscles, it looked as if I was constantly walking along the edge of a bowl or small depression, steeper-sided on my left than on my right. When I turned round to check on the progress of the group behind me, the bowl still appeared to be steeper on my left than on my right, which felt bizarre. If anyone reading this understands this kind of optical illusion, do please get in touch: I would be fascinated to learn more about it.

I felt very strongly that Lotte, Martin and I worked really well as a team. We kept a deliberately slow steady pace, initially set by me at the front, but tweaked even slower based on feedback to me delivered by Martin from his and Lotte's observations, and all without use of our radios. We kept the group good and tight, which is essential for safety in such conditions. We conferred about the state of the group and the state of the weather at Clogwyn and again at the junction of the Llanberis Path with the PYG Track, deciding at each point whether to turn back or to continue.

It had long since been clear that we had enough time to reach the summit before the turnaround time west by RAW Adventures, and given that the other indications were favourable, we advanced upwards, reaching the summit three hours and forty minutes after leaving Llwyn Celyn Bach camp site, which would have been a creditable time in broad daylight and fair weather, but considering the filthy conditions and that I had deliberately been holding the pace down, was remarkable. Visibility was so bad that Lotte, Martin and I had to tell the participants that we had arrived.

After a few minutes we turned round and went back the way we had come, with Martin in front setting a faster pace than on the ascent, me in the middle, and Lotte at the back. We kept the group together until Hebron Gate (as it was still dark and foggy), but then let them chose their own pace, as the route ahead was way-marked and marshalled.

Lotte and I ended up at the back of our group (but not the back of the whole show) helping three struggling participants (or more accurately, one worn-out participant and her two companions) off the mountain and back to Llwyn Celyn Bach.

My particular thanks to Lotte and Martin for first-rate teamwork in difficult conditions.

At the marquee, I scoffed a well-deserved breakfast, then as it was clear I was no longer on duty, slipped away to my tent, feeling tired but very pleased with the work I had done, and slept until mid morning.

My plan had been to stay the whole day in Llanberis and return home on the Monday, but as I had woken up feeling full of beans, I decided to pack up and go straight away, which gained me an extra day at home, and reduced the risk of an attack of anti-climax (from which I suffer after excitement).

I arrived home, back in the West of England, in time for supper, at the end of a tour of the UK taking in Yorkshire, Fort William, and Snowdonia, and had taken two weeks and two days, covered three weekends, and involved driving 1,190 miles (including 21 to pick up a much-loved hat I had left accidentally in Capel Curig).

I have the bank holiday weekend free, which I really need, then it's back to the Lake District for a piece of work for Charity Challenge.