IN THE WORDS OF THAT RUBBISH 80'S BAND............DON'T LOOK DOWN

Oh my bloody goodness.

Today I made a slight mistake. I said to my mate and Best Man,"Look mate, we've got loads of room on the bus, do you fancy coming on a walk up Snowdon?"Mmmmmmmmm, I may just have undersold the full extent of the trip to him I think.

We started off, like the happy wondering fools who truly believed that this would be a stroll in the hills. How very wrong we were.

After half an hour of incredibly steep ascent, my good friend, Campbo was making some very peculiar sounds. A bit like a wheezing dog after it had been kicked in the doggy privates.

But fair play to the lad, he carried on.

We got to a very scenic position, overlooking a lake shrouded by mist, and our mountain leader explained that there were two possible ascent routes to the top of Snowdon...our goal for the day.

The first, was a fairly challenging track called the miners path that made its way up gradually to the summit. The second was a death defying scramble across two three thousand foot plus summits to Snowdon.

I will let you decide for yourself which was the chosen track. Needless to say we spent the next three and a half hours clinging to the edge of some very precarious crags.

I must admit that on the ascent up Crib Goch, I did ask our mountain leader to rope me up, because I was having twenty second thoughts about what I was doing up there.

I tiptoed my way upwards over one small craggy outpost and then was embarrassingly "doglead" on a rope for fifteen minutes. Ouch!, my ego takes another bruising. But I am still here.

It was only when our mountain guide said to us that on the ridge we were about to traverse, stay to the left, as if you fell over the right hand side there was an absolute certain death from the 1000 foot shear face drop, I got a true sense of the predicament we were in.

Please feel free to check out this photo with a click of your mouse. It unfortunately does not convey the absolute fear and angst that were being portrayed by at least two of the party.

Well time pushed on, and we did indeed conquer the first summit, but my old mate Campbo did have a particularly dodgy second ascent up Crib Ddysgl. He opted for the roped up alternative, after everyone else had manoeuvred up over a craggy outlet.

All that could be heard from the top was......"I've lost me bottle....there are no footholds here......I fear I am a lady...."

Only joshing mate. He did it. He got up there and made a steady route upwards towards the summit of Mt Snowdon.

Probably more embarrassing was the fact that the group of climbers/walkers that were following us, had two dogs with them. These dogs were outrageous. They cavorted over the highest peeks, and laughed in our faces. One even trod on my hands as I was clinging on for dear life. Little doggy shits.

But joking asides, we did it. It was a great feeling to have made it up there, and gave a real flavour as to what life is all about outside the everyday humdrum of Birkenhead...Liverpool.....General tedium.

And my closing message to me old comapdre......Well done Campbo lad.....Get yourself out of goal once in a while......you have achieved something really special today...

I bloody ache though!

Bloody nice hair style Kajagoogoo!