Might be that the fresh air of the lush outdoorsy variety had something to do with it. This and maybe physical strain and being tired. Drugs have a tendency to pack more of a punch in the outdoors.
(Maybe that’s how prophets are made,)
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Just a heads up, the video rabbit hole for that pastime includes some moments you probably don’t want to see.
oblig…
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Someone ought to compile a list of such things, like
- all the really profound thinkers in the GOP
- all the really delicious coffee sold in instant form
- all the really complex dance moves popularized by Freddie and the Dreamers
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Clearly, they chose the wrong mountain.
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Where is the mountain? Behind those hills?
#Sorry #JustHadTo
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Too bad they didn’t have a four-person Bothy Bag to shelter in.
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Fucking lightweights. Just wait 45 minute-1hour and you’ll be fine to walk down. If you’re not equipped to be on the trail for at least a few hours longer than you planned, you shouldn’t be on the trial, even if you’re sober.
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Well, crap.
Now I have to hike to the highest point in the state, fast for three days, and do 'shrooms.
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A desert would work, too, many a fine prophet got their first gig in deserts. Maybe you’ve got one of those around.
I live in the jungle, so for me it’s back to licking funki coloured toads.
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Maybe Gandalf could have sent them a giant eagle.
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Free.
You phone 999 and ask for mountain rescue instead of the police or ambulance or whatever.
ETA: Having checked this out - apparently the official way of calling them is: 999, first ask for police, then ask for mountain rescue.
I’m pretty sure just asking for mountain rescue will work just fine…
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I’ve climbed dozens of mountains higher than Scafell Pike - or Ben Nevis, for that matter. (And having worse weather. I’ve done New England 4000-footers in winter). And I’ve volunteered before for Search & Rescue.
I’ve never been the subject of more than a self-rescue. I’ve trashed a knee in a climbing accident, and been evacuated by my party, and I’ve taken a bad fall, solo, about 25 km from the nearest road. That solo time, I thought about lighting my PLB, but said to myself, “What are they going to do if they come for me? Put an Ace bandage on my sprain, fill me with pain killers, and walk me out. I can do that.” Took me a day and a half, but self-rescue is the best rescue.
Being benighted on a mountain is NOT a reason for rescue. I’ve been a day late getting back before. I can particularly remember once saying to my daughter, “Kid, we’re running out of daylight and the ledge we’re standing on is the biggest flat spot I’ve seen in 45 minutes. I think we have found our campsite.” The ledge was bigger than our tent. Just.
Whether I’ve ever had a safety meeting on a summit is nobody’s business.
(Just trying to establish qualification to comment here…)
I’m against charging for rescue, even in the most egregious cases. It’s no deterrent to stupidity - stupid people gonna stupid. It doesn’t recover significant costs - you can’t get blood from a turnip. What it does do is to make people delay calling for fear of the cost - until they’ve dug themselves in so deep that rescue is much more difficult and dangerous. It serves only to endanger the rescuers.
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Got it, thanks. Sounds like the same process here, (although from a satellite phone I had to give them my general location so they could transfer the call from the North America Emergency Relay Center to the specific county I was in,) minus the repayment.
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Sounds like some Englishmen went up a hill and came down a mountain.
Yeah, speaking as an Englishman - even I wouldn’t call Scafell Pike a mountain.
I would second the_borderer’s statement that even with it being a bitty little thing as mountains go, you can still end up very dead, very quickly if you’re not careful.
I’ve seen people walk up Snowdon in summer in shorts and T-shirts wearing flip-flops. There are nice firm paths right up to the top of Snowdon. It’s a very pleasant walk.
Until the weather changes and the temperature drops by 10-15 degrees C, and the mist obscures everything - including the person you were walking right next to…
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Can you spot my hiking partner’s red hat in this picture?
It was a lovely day, about 600 m below. The hills make their own weather.
The whiteout hides it, but there’s a pretty hellacious cliff off to the right. It would have been altogether too easy to stray onto unstable ice and fall off. I don’t remember whether I had an ice axe with me, or just ski poles.
Merrie Olde England has nothing on New England in the mountain weather department. 
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Stoned Mountain Geordies
(sounds like Stone Mountain, Georgia)
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