Its amazing how time flies and so two years from the day of our epic climb to the summit of Kilimanjaro yours truly set off with Bef and Keeeef to celebrate the day by climbing something big. Well big for the UK, a mere foothill for Kili.
Naturally an epic adventure starts with some sustenance and as Im back into mainly veggie mode a nice egg butty sufficed.
Others were bot so restrained when it came to pork products.
Soon we were ascending Moel Siabod a mere 876 metres and although it was sunny when we arrived by the time we stopped faffing around the weather had turned.
We made good progress
with Moel Siabod looming over us
and had it not been for a navigation error at this very point we would have made to the top before the clouds closed in and just maybe we would have seen the 13 highest peaks in Snowdonia from the summit.
As it was we didnt and once we were back on track
we gained high ground quite quickly. This despite yours truly sinking up to his crotch in a hidden bog hole, this is my happy face as my privates froze in the cold water.
Snow line at 600 metres
Snow all around now and a bitter wind turned everything to ice.
By 1pm we were topside
having the mountain to ourselves we celebrated with a cheeky sip of Christmas spirit from my hip flask, the one I took up Kili. It was at this point I realised I had left Eric and Ernie at home. Gutted.
Keeeef tried to cheer me up by constantly falling over
and Bef tried harder than me not to laugh.
Another adventure over
we celebrated with traditional egg chips and beans.