Ross and I were tasked by the BBC to accompany, or rather to arrange an adventure for a chap called Rupert Moon, who used to play rugby for Wales. He was doing a TV series where he was going around Wales doing various adventurous things. The BBC had got in touch with Ross and myself in August. It took a couple of weeks to sort out the logistics and before long we were ready to go for the end of September.

Ross and Rupert would actually do the climb and I would be looking after the cameraman, the sound man and the producer. Not a problem really. It turns out that those guys had had a lot of experience working in all sorts of different environments. So scrambling up the gully to the side of the the arête really wasn't a problem for them. And in fact, they were going faster than I could set up safety ropes. And bearing in mind one of them is carrying a big camera on his shoulder. And then, of course, you've got the sound boom. And the producer running around like a chicken with his head cut off whilst we're trying to get the shots of them. Long shots, mostly because they're climbing up the arête.

Capturing the sound was a challenge and required the sound man and cameraman to perch themselves in different locations. Need eyes in the back of your head in this job. Fantastic. It was. It was absolutely beautiful autumn, late afternoon, early evening by the time we were climbing. The light was astounding. It had been a lovely warm day with big blue skies. This part of Wales is beautiful on evenings like this and is a gift. We had a wonderful time. Six blokes all working in harmony in a hazardous environment. It was really good. After topping out we then we made our way down to the spot height 510 at the top of the zig zags on the path up from Ty Nant, where there are some converging walls that we were going to use to shelter ourselves and we were going to spend the night there in bivvy bags, nice and easy. All going to be filmed.

And, you know, bit of this bit of that bit of the cooking the grub and all the sorts of things that they had planned. However, it gets to about 10:30 in the evening. We’ve watched the sun go down over the Western Sea.
We've managed to do some filming of cooking tea and what have you and getting ready for bed. Rupert has brought a micro tv so he can watch a Rugby match, Wales, of course. And so it begins to rain. And the next thing we know is that a surprise flash autumn storm was approaching, and it comes in really fast. And when I say fast, I mean probably 40 to 50 kph. No problem at all. I mean, the winds were up just like that. One minute it's quiet, (should have known really, mind I hadn't yet learned the skill of smelling the weather) next minute a downpour. I'm in a Bivvy bag. Ross is in a bivvy bag. Well, we're all in bivvy bags. Time to bail out and get off the hill. Earlier in the day Ross had driven his 4wd truck as far up the hill as he could, from Lanfiangell y Pennant in the Upper Dysynni Valley. It was manic, chucking it down. Torchlight was eclipsed by the lightning. Thunder and lightning were now synchronous. The storm was right over the top of us. Each flash of lighting revealed our faces etched with concern. We all knew what the odds were like for being exposed high up on the hills during a Thunderstorm with lots of electrical activity. The weather forecast hadn’t emphasised the severity of any weather, but seeing as we we would be escorting thousands of filming equipment and the star if the show, we had planned for the possibility. The truck was revealed during one such flash. By the time of the next flash a moment or two later we were at the truck. It was then a matter of timing. As soon as the flash had passed there was an almighty scramble to get everything in. Once we had thrown everything into the truck it was time to head down Toute de Suite. My job was to walk in front of the truck, which only had its side lights on, there was a good reason for that, but frankly it now escapes me, surveying the land as I went. So I performed this task walking backwards, downhill, over extremely rough ground, whilst micro navigating in the pitch dark (head torches were quite poor in those days. Excellent night vision helps) and filthy weather. The odd flash of lightning was a bonus. It seemed to take forever but in truth it was probably less than 1km.

We were going to pick up a former forestry road, or rather a track at a place just above a farmstead called Hafoty (summer house) There is a track that the farm uses, that goes up to Tyrrau Mawr (big towers) and it goes on up to a ford under Carnedd Llwyd and just below where we were camped out. Now Ross had only managed to get so far and we were parked out on open hillside. We were around 500m above sea level. We pack up very quickly. Everything stuffed into rucksacks & bags. Trying to keep the expensive filming equipment as dry as possible. It's all soaking wet by now.

Again, bearing in mind we have only got summer kit on, we haven't got full winter gear, we've got the minimum personal gear that we were carrying, basically because we were carrying ropes and goodness knows what else. My pack weight was running at around 60kg for the day and getting heavier with every drop of rain. I was glad to dump that in the truck, I can tell you. And so we're making it back down. Ross has got the Jeep that he's driven all the way up to the spot height. And he's going to drive down the hillside and he's scared stiff because he thinks he's going to get hit by lightning. I mean, blimey, the guy’s sitting in a vehicle with rubber tyres. If he gets hit with lightning, he's all right. Where am I? Well, I'm at the front. If I get hit, I’m a Roman Candle. All the guys are sitting in the truck. I'm out the front with a torch finding the way. Ross wouldn't let me have the map. I kept asking him to let me have the map. He wouldn't let. He said no, no, no. You know the way. You have the bearing. So there we are.
I'm heading off down in in the dark, in a thunderstorm. We've got lightning crashing all around us. And I'm trying to find the best possible way for this truck to get down the hillside without bottoming out on rocks. And God knows what else. It probably took only 40 minutes, but it felt like two hours. And I’m walking backwards downhill. I can tell you. It felt like a really long time. And the responsibility that I felt was quite high. I was absolutely soaked through and I was beginning to get just a little bit cold and but we made it down to the track where we could get back onto the road, and I could get into the vehicle and off we go again. And we drove back to Tywyn, where we Ross went to bed in his own bed. Rupert got the Guest Room and the rest of us slept fitfully for a few hours on the floor in the garage. Ross's wife, Camilla made us all a fantastic cooked breakfast the next morning. The smell of it roused us from our damp pits. I had slept in the clothes I had been wearing in the hill. We were all in excellent spirits washing down the sausages, bacon and my favourite: Black pudding, with copious amounts of Fresh Brewed Coffee.

I think we said goodbye to the crew and Rupert around about. I don't know, 11:00 in the morning. He was a lovely fella. Rupert Moon. There were a couple of occasions when, you know, when he, he was a little scared, shall we say. He particularly didn't like the rain and the thunder and lightning.

So what did I learn from that experience
That I had a great well of strength and fortitude, something I had suspected. Nice to have it confirmed though.
That weather is a capricious beast and not to be trusted. That being said. My kit was so good that I almost considered staying up there, but sense prevailed. But I had some great kit choices. Having that confidence is like some extra armour.

Camaraderie in the face of adversity
A faint sense of pride in the Job we had done for the BBC. Sadly it’s no longer online to watch, it was a good episode and really interesting to work on. I had to think fast and move fast over technical ground whilst being mindful of my clients. I was carrying around 50kg of ropes and equipment plus my own kit.
I really enjoyed it and can recall buzzing off it for a few days.
It was one of those experiences that turn out to be quite pivotal in one’s personal development. Something within me shifted that night . My relationship with the outdoors changed again. Positively so. As it has done over the years. I can spot several turning points when one’s learning took a leap.
It taught me that it doesn’t matter where you are. In the Alps or Greater Ranges, the objective risks are ever present in the mountain environment and the consequences of wrong action are liable to be very similar. The differences arise from altitude essentially.
That one’s personal, technical skills are “money in the bank”