LUCKY CHARM

IN THE BLUE LIGHT of predawn the phone rang, jolting me awake. It was Vicky. “What’s the craic, Nick? The hills are plastered. I’ll pick you up in 25 minutes.” “Hang on, Vic! Slow down…” My words trailed off as the phone went dead. At least she was always late. I should have an hour or so.

Peering out of the window it was clear to see why she was so eager to get going: above the dark, coniferous ranks of the Gwydyr, the gleaming dome of Carnedd Llewelyn stood proud, slowly pinking up with the first hints of down.

Battling nebulous, sleep-addled thoughts in a concerted attempt not to forget some vital piece of equipment, I threw a winter bag together and then force-fed myself a round of toast as I went over our options: Glyderau, Snowdon, Carneddau, Tryfan, Elidir…? I’m lucky enough to live right in the heart of Snowdonia National Park, and most of Wales’s highest and finest all lie