So, we started our trip on Friday night with a few new faces, which is always a good thing! New people are always very punctual, in comparison to the rest of us. Unfortunately some people had to drop out, so we went at slightly below capacity. Goes to show, always put yourself on the reserves list! The weather was forecast to be pretty horrible, and judging by how dreary it was already, we were in for a hell of a weekend. Ben drove up everyone from Lenton, whilst the group at Savoy were given lower odds of survival with Daisy driving. Despite some shoddy navigation they avoided the toll roads and located the camp.

Meanwhile, Ben reversed too close to a farm wall and almost took off the wing mirror. This amused Shane into a cackle heard through the night. We arrived at the hut, fumbling around in the dark until the generator was turned on. Choosing beds was a fun experience, like a big sleepover where you try and sleep next to your friends. Shane called me “his bitch” and threatened to spoon me. A fire was lit, and alcohol was consumed, which are both decent ways to warm up in the cold nights of northern Wales. A big first night problem was a lack of running water. The worst result of this was someone having a poo and suddenly realising the horrible consequences of their actions. After more drinking, the last stragglers went to sleep, at roughly 2:30am…


...Only to be woken up very soon after by a far, far too chipper club president at 7am! After breakfast, we split into two groups to traverse either Snowdon (Shaisy) or Tryfan (Jess & Ben..Bess? Jen?). Dom marks the start of a good day by throwing up. He claimed it’s because he’s not a morning person, but he did have a lot of red wine the night before. And then the second we’re out of the camp, Shaisy go the wrong way. Good job guys, it’s an omen of things to come. With the Jen group, the previously written off scramble was given the go ahead, despite the looming weather. I think Jess was just testing our mettle, honestly. The scramble led to some pretty icy ground and headfirst into a wind powered hail barrage, but despite it all we reached the top, took a quick picture and pissed off down again, only stopping when Jess reverted to a five year old at the sight of snow. Ironically enough, most of the injuries from the Jen group came after the icy climb of doom. Dom’s horrible day continued in what was called “Dom’s face vs. Wales”, in which the wind made him hit the ground pretty hard. Ben’s excellent first aid skills included “Shit!” and “EAT SOMETHING” whilst the poor man had a nose bleed. Another gust took John out. Ever seen those tumbleweeds from wild west movies? Yeah, imagine the human version of that. Wet and defeated, they returned to the bus for dramatic Harry Potter readings and hypothetical conversations about cannibalism within the society. Jen’s group then went home.

Shaisy went for Mt. Snowdon, we are a mountaineering society after all, so do the biggest one around. Episode VI Return of the Wind brings swift disaster. Sally can’t stay upright and her thumb takes the brunt of the fall. A possible broken thumb means that she, along with Kat & Daisy, took an impromptu drive to A&E. Shane & co valiantly continued, considering themselves immune to further damage. Unfortunately, all men are mortal. As the wind picked up to terrifying levels, even the most hardened of objects fall apart. Salar’s glasses lost a lense, and everything became a big blurry mess. With no depth perception (or really any vision at all), he proceeded to fall and stumble all over the place. Witnesses described him as “a lump”. Shane is not a benevolent creature, so he dragged Salar and anyone left up to the top of Snowdon, which means they still won, technically. You can take our glasses, but you can’t take our freedom. Decent is uneventful. Shaisy, minus Kat & Sally, returned to the hut to join the other survivors in a miserable attempt to get warm and dry whilst Jess & Ben headed to A&E on a rescue mission. As they picked up Sally, they happened to meet a kayaker who also hails from UoN. Not much conversation was had though, as his concussions seemed distracting. How do you get a concussion kayaking? We may never know… Lots of fun was had once everyone was back at camp, including a game of murder, conversations about spirit animals and Dom V attempting accents (he sucks by the way). Dinner was an incredible sweet potato curry. Even the hardiest of meat eaters had to admit it tasted damn good! Then for desert, Jess put on a few hundred gallons of custard and some swiss rolls. Needless to say, we all ate well that night. Afterwards, a serious issue had to be addressed. How would Salar be able to see the next day? With only one lense left, he had two choices: embrace the life of a pirate and adopt an eyepatch, or visualise everything that is more than 3 metres away as one big blur. The only other thing of note from that night was John consuming a large amount of whiskey and falling asleep on the sofa.


Sunday, a.k.a “don’t tell RamSoc”

A bit of a late start was probably needed, judging by the wounded and damaged lying in their bunks. The worst of it was Dom, as his face had swollen up on the side he’s fallen on. It was grim. To avoid any more disasters we decided to hide in a forest, away from foreboding peaks. A really quiet, peaceful day with much fewer tumbles and a lot more early christmas songs. Some of the navigating skills were put to good use, with Salar the blind leading one group. He used other people as his eyes. Afterwards a short stop at the pub before heading back to base to clear the debris. There was a small wait from then until we set off back home, in which we entertained ourselves by watching sheep fight. Very Welsh indeed. A sleepy bus journey back, which was probably good as I think any more excitement might have killed someone.


Written by Ben McGarry

SNOWDONIA 28-29 November

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