On Sunday we told my son he’s going up a mountain this weekend.
The plan is to climb Scafell Pike on Saturday having camped overnight, and then return home Sunday morning which is his birthday. I realise it’s not a typical birthday present, but it’s something he can be proud of achieving and share with his Dad.
Now I’m slowly working my way through an enourmous list of goods to pack and prepare. Fortunately I married an experienced camper, so we have a lot of the gear and it’s in good condition.
Yesterday we retrieved the tent, sleeping bags, rollmats and Trangia from the lockup, along with cutlery and crockery for two and a couple of rucksacks. Now the fun begins, trying to figure out the most efficient packing arrangements for clothes and food, and making sure we’re well supplied for the weekend.
Mrs C has already baked one of her epic fruit cakes, so we won’t go hungry; and on the advice of another seasoned camper I’m taking my coffee in little sachets with the sugar and whitener premixed. Apparently this saves on packing, prep, and washing up time, so we win in every way.
We have boots, waterproofs, and a map. We have a tent and supplies. And come Friday afternoon when we pack up the car and head up North, we’ll be off on an adventure!
Naturally, we’ll come back with pictures, blisters, overpriced tourist sweets in a bag and tall tales of huge monsters. After all, that’s the least his little brothers will expect.