It didn’t take long for the honeymoon period to come to an end, in fact it was in the car on the way home from the airport. Really pleased to see everyone home safe and sound but come on let’s get in the car and you home but there was the obligatory long goodbyes the arrivals lounge before we could get to the car park and pay to leave.

As Jamie started to tell me about the trip both Reagan and Lincoln sat in the back saying the were tired and hungry as they stared at their phones, I just listened to what they got up to. From the backseat Reagan first corrected her mom’s pronunciation of a Hungarian village they visited followed by how many times they were served Goulash then the assessment of the trip apparently wasn’t right, and it was just constant all the way home

I just said

Were you two on the same trip

Teenagers apparently know it all and are always right?

Just went to pay the 2 drop-off charges from Friday only to be told that the deadline for payment is midnight the day after dropping off, and if you miss it you get fined £100 that can be reduced to £60 if paid promptly…

To say I am pissed off is an understatement that will be £60 per visit

BASTARD!

With no one here but me I spent the day building shelves in Moms shed to create more storage space in there. I also emptied the bottom shed which ultimately Lincoln wants to use forca drum kit but I added some shelving in there too to create more storage space

Here is a more polished readable account of ‘Snowdon Conquered’ from 08/08/2026

Snowdon: Harder Than We Imagined

It was harder than I had certainly imagined. All of us had moments during the day when we questioned whether we would actually make it to the top, but somehow, together, we all did.

It was an early start. Alarms went off at 5:30am, and an hour later we were out of the house and on our way. We arrived in Llanberis at around 8:30am and, on the stroke of 9, we set off.

Well, most of us did.

Jamie stayed behind at the mountain railway station. She had decided to take the train to the summit later in the morning because she didn’t want to hold the group back. The plan was for her to meet us at the top around midday, giving her the chance to enjoy the views without having to endure quite so much of the struggle and pain we were about to experience.

Our group consisted of Luke and Nick, our leaders, Reagan, Lincoln, Eloisa, Hannah, Gracie, Beth, Billy the dog, and me, a responsible adult(?)

The church youth were taking on the challenge to raise money for their mission trip to Hungary on Friday, so there was a real purpose behind what we were doing. It wasn’t simply a day out on the mountain; there was something bigger motivating us all.

We had chosen the Llanberis Path, which takes you from the town of Llanberis all the way to the summit. The route can broadly be divided into five stages, and as we would discover, each stage presented its own challenges.

Stage One – The Tarmac Lane

Turning right out of the station, we were immediately faced with a very steep gradient. There was no gentle warm-up, no chance to ease ourselves into the day. Snowdon wanted to know what we were made of from the very beginning.

The steep tarmac road wound its way upwards past houses and fields, and it didn’t take long before everyone’s legs were feeling it.

Eventually we reached the Hebron Gate and, passing through onto “The Mountain”, the paved road gave way to the proper mountain path.

By this point, most of us were feeling a little apprehensive about what lay ahead. If the first section had been that hard, what on earth were the remaining miles going to be like?

We pushed on, hoping that it wasn’t going to get much harder.

We were, of course, wrong.

Stage Two – The Lower Slopes

The next section was more gradual for the most part, following a wide and well-defined mountain track. We walked alongside the Snowdon Mountain Railway, with the green valleys and hills opening up around us.

Although it wasn’t particularly steep, it was relentless.

The exertion of the first stage was already taking its toll, and one of the group who needed help with her bag. The leaders were concerned because she was already showing signs that she wasn’t coping particularly well.

The rest of the youth had found their voices again after going unusually quiet during the early climb. The laughter and conversation returned, and it quickly became obvious that they were recovering but I wasn’t recovering quite so quickly.

I was already finding the pace challenging, and I knew that if I was struggling this early, there was a lot more to come. It was a warm day and, despite wearing nothing more than a T-shirt, sweat was pouring out of me. For me, the challenge was going to be how quickly I could recover after each stage and, most importantly, making sure I kept drinking.

Eventually we reached the Halfway House, where we stopped, sat down, ate and drank, but more importantly, we rested and took stock of where everyone was.

The person, who had been our concern earlier, was back. Her spirit had returned, which was a huge relief. The rest of the group were happy to sit, recover and regroup before tackling the next section.

We were halfway there, but it was about to get considerably harder.

Stage Three – The Midway Climb

I decided to let Billy off the lead, thinking that having him free would allow me to concentrate more on my own ascent, which sounded like a good idea, but it wasn’t.

With so many people, dogs and sheep around, keeping track of him became more difficult, so eventually I had to get him back on the lead. To Billy’s credit, though, his recall to the whistle was brilliant and was actually commented on by several people we passed.

The path became steeper and rockier as we climbed higher. For me, this was where things became really difficult.

It wasn’t necessarily the pace that was the problem. It was the rocks.

They forced me to take bigger steps, uneven steps and steps of different lengths. Instead of settling into a rhythm, every few metres required a different movement. That might sound like a small thing, but it became incredibly draining.

I couldn’t find a rhythm, and without that rhythm I was burning through my energy.

Reagan asked me if I was okay.

I suspect that was because I didn’t look particularly okay.

The truth was that it was beginning to hurt. My body was telling me to stop, while my mind was telling me to keep going.

That became one of the biggest battles of the day, mind over matter.

There were plenty of positive thoughts going through my head, but there were also plenty of moments when I wondered whether I could actually keep going.

Still, I did.

One step at a time.

Stage Four – The Killer Convex

Then came the section that had been described as the most physically demanding part of the climb.

The “Killer Convex”.

The description promised glorious views, and it certainly delivered those. Unfortunately, it also delivered the physical punishment.

The path rose steeply alongside the railway line, with huge views opening up beneath us. It was spectacular, but my body wasn’t particularly interested in the scenery.

My mind was still willing.

My body, however, was screaming.

And it was during this section that the roles changed slightly.

I was struggling, but so were a couple of the young people. They began questioning whether they could complete the rest of the climb.

So I did what I could.

I dropped back to where they were and encouraged them. Sometimes you don’t need to do much. You just need to change someone’s focus, remind them that they can do it and help them find a more positive place mentally.

We kept moving.

Then we rounded a corner.

And there it was.

The summit.

It was still a long way away, but simply seeing it lifted everyone’s spirits.

We could see where we were going.

We were going to make it.

Stage Five – The Summit

By now Jamie’s train was only around 20 minutes away, and we could actually see it making its way towards the summit.

Suddenly, the exhaustion seemed to disappear.

We pushed on.

The final section along the ridge was nowhere near as intimidating as some of what we had already faced, and the knowledge that we were so close gave everyone another burst of energy.

Then we arrived.

And, almost perfectly, Jamie’s train arrived at the same time.

We were able to wave to the passengers as the train pulled in, and moments later we were reunited with Jamie at the visitor centre.

We had made it.

There was time for photographs, a chance to see Jamie before she had to board the return train, and, perhaps most importantly, an opportunity to sit down.

We ate, drank and took in the views.

Although it was a warm day down below, the wind at the summit made it feel considerably cooler. We had layered up to keep warm, but our base layers were wet with sweat, so standing around in the wind made the temperature feel even colder.

I knew that once we started back down, we’d be back in the sunshine and away from the wind. By this point I had already drunk two bottles of Lucozade, a bottle of water and half a flask of coffee. My body was clearly demanding everything I could give it. I did not need the toilet which was a fairly good indication, considering how much I had been drinking.

Lincoln and I were out of water, so I joined the queue at the café, I knew we’d need the water for the journey back down, so I waited.

The Evidence

At around 1pm, we joined the queue for the final short walk to the actual highest point.

This was probably the least physically demanding part of the entire climb, but it turned out to be one of the longest waits.

It was the busiest time of day and, apparently, the busiest day of the year so far.

The queue moved painfully slowly.

Forty-five minutes later, we finally reached the top.

We had our photographs.

We had the evidence.

We had done it.

Every single one of us had made it to the summit.

It hadn’t been easy. There had been tired legs, aching muscles, doubts, sweat, thirst and plenty of moments when the mountain seemed determined to make us earn every single step.

But that’s what made reaching the top so special.

We hadn’t just climbed a mountain.

We had encouraged each other, looked after each other, pushed each other when we needed pushing and stopped when someone needed support.

The young people had taken on something genuinely difficult for a cause that mattered to them. They discovered that they were capable of more than they perhaps thought they were.

And, if I’m honest, so did I.

Snowdon had been harder than I imagined.

But we all made it.

And standing at the top, looking out over the incredible views, every painful step suddenly seemed worth it.

The Journey Back Down

Once the evidence had been procured, there was nothing left to do but turn around and head back down the way we had come.

It had taken us three hours to get to the top, so we figured two hours should be plenty to get back down.

It actually took two and a half.

There were plenty of reasons for that. It was hot, we were tired and, somehow, going downhill was every bit as punishing as going up. In fact, by this point it was becoming excruciating on the joints.

The mountain was also incredibly busy.

It wasn’t necessarily that the crowds slowed us down, but there was a particular problem. You could easily find yourself behind someone who was walking just a little slower than you. Normally, you’d simply overtake them, but on a busy mountain path there wasn’t always room to do that safely.

The alternative was to speed up for a while, get past them and then slow down again.

I wasn’t up for that nonsense!

So we plodded on.

One step at a time.

The further we descended, the more the aches and pains seemed to announce themselves. Going up had been a battle with my lungs and muscles; coming down was a battle with my knees, hips and every other joint that had apparently decided it had done quite enough for one day.

Eventually, though, we reached Llanberis.

And the relief was enormous.

We were all tired, aching, sweaty and probably carrying a few emotional scars from the day, but underneath all of that was an overwhelming sense of satisfaction.

We had done it.

The aches, pains, sweat and even a few tears suddenly seemed much more tolerable.

Jamie was there waiting for us. She had had her own adventure, walking around 11,000 steps to the slate mines and back while we’d been climbing.

I looked at my watch.

30,000 steps.

Thirty thousand.

I could feel every single one of them.

We celebrated the only sensible way possible after a day like that, with an ice cream, before climbing into the car for the journey home.

The Real Achievement

I know I will sleep tonight.

I suspect everyone who conquered Snowdon today will sleep very well too.

But when we wake up tomorrow, the thing that will matter most won’t be the aching legs or the tiredness.

It will be what the young people achieved.

They made a plan to raise money for their mission trip to Hungary. They decided to take on Snowdon to help raise that money.

And they did it.

Around £500 has been raised towards their mission trip, and every single one of them should be incredibly proud.

They didn’t just raise money. They took on something difficult, encouraged one another, dealt with moments of doubt and kept going when stopping would have been the easier option.

That’s a pretty good achievement.

Would I Do It Again?

I pride myself on being “active”. Walking Billy every day keeps me around 8,000 steps, so I like to think I’m reasonably fit.

But there is a very important distinction.

Those 8,000 steps are almost entirely on the flat, around the canals of Middlewich.

Walking 8,000 steps around Middlewich is very different to walking up a 1,085-metre mountain and then walking all the way back down again.

This was also the first time I have been the oldest person on a walk like this, and I definitely found the pace challenging.

We had a deadline. We needed to reach the summit by midday to meet Jamie, and although we weren’t pushing particularly hard, there were times when I simply had to drop back.

At those moments I had to accept that the others would wait for me.

I would get there.

It would just be in my own time.

And perhaps that was one of the biggest lessons of the day.

You don’t always have to keep up with everyone else.

Sometimes you just have to keep moving.

Would I do it again?

Yes.

Could I do it in three hours again?

Maybe.

But next time, I might prefer to take my time and make it three and a half hours.

After all, what’s another 30 minutes when you’ve already climbed a mountain?

Written by Alan Forster