Extract from:
Inaccessible Pinnacle
I had been feeling nervous for hours now. The waiting is always the worst part, though, and watching some tiny figures hanging off a vast rock, suspended over a thousand foot drop, wasn’t much of an antidote. It was the Inaccessible Pinnacle, Sgurr Dearg, on the Isle of Skye, that was our target. It was famous for the seventy-foot slab of rock, perched three thousand feet above the sea on top of the mountain. And it was this rock that we were here to conquer. The walk started fairly easily, little mounds gradually turning into minor
hills. It wasn’t long, though until the problems started. The first obstacle was a swamp. It was a painful slow trudge through the wetland, every footstep sinking into the sludge and being hauled back out, our legs paying the price in pain. The next obstacle was an endless area of jagged rocks and scree. Although there was a path, after half an hour it was rendered useless, as it had
just faded away in the boulder field leaving us to scramble, hand and foot, over rock after rock. An hour later we were at the base of the rock, ready to climb. My climbing partner was an old family friend called Bob. A vastly experienced mountaineer, he had already conquered every Munro in Scotland. Before we started climbing he told me two things: never to look down, and to just keep going at a steady pace. We set off and the nerves suddenly started disappearing. I was up fifteen metres in a matter of seconds. Soon the rock in front of my eyes began darkening, though, and when I looked up, I could see why. A large overhang cast its shadow over me, blocking my path. I urged myself on but I couldn’t physically pass this thing. I tried everything. It was at this point that, for some strange reason, I looked down. Panic struck me as my head turned and I saw the drop below me. A thousand feet, at least. I could see the valley floor in the very distance, sheep milling about carefree, completely unaware of a tiny black dot hanging well above
them. I could hear Bob shouting encouragements at me, urging me on. And suddenly I felt the adrenaline burst into my veins. With a huge leap off the rock face, I grabbed the edge of the overhang and hauled myself up. Slithering up the rock, probably without much grace, I powered my way up the face. Fuelled by adrenaline, I scrambled up to the top of the world. It was now that I understood the reason for this. It was for the adrenaline, the excitement, and the sheer thrill when you pop out on top and realise what you have conquered.