Just for once I thought I would try to write something different. A few extracts from log books I used to keep when I was away walking. This one from a trip to the La Sierra De Gredos mountain range in central Spain last January. A group of us had driven to the roadhead car park. The cars sliding in the icy conditions. It was cold and there was no encourgament to linger. Quickly we kitted up. Our intentions where to split in to two groups. I would be walking with Dave. We knew the others would be moving faster and they had planned a long route. Dave and myself had chosen a high top that in theory would be closer and easier to reach. Times that we would all meet up at the carpark where agreed apon. We carried mobiles phones, wprapped up and thrust deep in our rucksacks to preserve batteries. Not so much to call rescue services if there was an emergency, but to use as a form of radio communication between us if something did happen. Ironically, we had to use crampons to follow the path up out of the car park. It was coated in sheet ice. We stopped further up to take them off when we hit snow. The weather was poor, visibility none too good, the temperature at around freezing. A quick check of the map and we swung off the main path that crossed the plateau we where on. It was used quite extensively and was well defined. The path we turned off on was not. A cairn marked the turn and further on we found a few more. Often though it was a case of check map and compass. As we plodded upwards I felt a few twinges of concern about Dave, he moved slower than me and often in deeper snow I had to break trail. Our first main point of reference was an old, ruined mountain hut. We stopped here for a much needed break, sheltered from a steady wind by one of the ruins walls. Going for a pee was a cold and arduous task. Dave assured me he was feeling fine and was keen to push on. Slowly we came to a broad flat saddle that sat between two hills. The wind by now was rising and the temperature dropping. The push now was up a steep wide gully. There was now no choice, I had to take the lead. As the ground steepened I began to use my ice axe to cut large steps for Dave. Swing, scoop, kick with the boot, thrust upwards. It was hard, physical work. The thinner atmosphere was also making itself felt. At times I had lean on my ice axe to rest for a moment and regain my breath.. As we came out on to the ridge a blast of wind almost lifted me off my feet and it was obvious that a storm was brewing. We stopped just a few feet from the summit at around two thousand five hundred metres. Things where becoming hazardous and I was aware that one side of the ridge had a sheer drop that went an awful long way down. As we plunged down the gully I noticed that our tracks from our ascent were almost obliterated already. Dave took over the lead for which I was thankful. The long haul upwards had left me tired. We hurried across the broad saddle in swirling snow and began to climb. A few twinges of concern flitted through my mind. the ground appeared steeper than I remembered when we had come the other way. This was soon confirmed when we hit a low top that sat across the other side of the saddle. We huddled together for a quick check of the compass. Dave assured me he now knew where we where and let off. Suddenly alarm bells began to ring in my head. The wind which had been blowing from one direction appeared to be blowing from another and the ground had started to fall away steeply. Unhappy I called a stop. Spanish maps are not that well defined but with careful checks of the compass it was obvious we had headed off in the wrong direction and where on steep and dangerous ground. Backtracking carefully we headed in the general direction of the saddle. by now a storm was raging, visibilty almost nill. Swirling Snow and ice made the going difficult. Suddenly we stumbled over the lip of a drop. Kneeling, with our backs to the howling wind, I double checked the compass. Roughly speaking, I know knew our location, the head wall of a steep valley the other side of the way we had ascended. If we could pick our way down it would lead us back to the main path across the plateau. Visiblity was so poor I had to throw snowballs to check where the ground was. Once over the lip of the headwall at least we where out of the main blast of the wind. This though was very steep ground. The situation was very risky but we had little option but head downwards. Like an old hound trying to find a scent, I criss crossed the slope attempting to find the safest line of descent. According to the map, a footpath made it's way up through here somewhere. That would be ok in summer but this was the dead of winter. It did indicate though that a way down was feasible in theory. Dave was far from happy. He had checked the compass and was certain we where off route. In many respects the compass was of little help here. When we did attempt to follow a direct compass bearing it led us to a jumble of rock with nothing visible below them. I kept to our route and gradually a pattern emerged. by crossing back and forward I was able to define that we where in a steep gully and thhat on either side the ground was even steeper. Dave now admitted he was out of his depth. the route finding was down to me. At one point I plunged in waist deep in soft snow. Ramming my ice axe in I tried to assess the situation. it appeared that I was in a deep, snow filled scoop in the gully. That was very scary. This was very typical avalanche potential. More people have been killed on descents in hillwalking and mountaineering than ascents. Struggling out of the deep snow, Dave and I picked our way around and eased down through a mass of ice covered, jagged rocks. Visibility had eased a bit and I could see a little of the way ahead. We where both very tired. In a dire emergency we could have stopped,dug in to the snow for shelter and waited out the storm. That would have been only an extreme last resort, although we did carry survival equipment. More heartstopping moments foolowed as we plunged on down. Suddenly, instinctively, we sensed the steep ground easing off. no longer where we peering down through our boots. The slope was actually stretched out in front of us. At last some semblance of flat ground. Dave yelled at me that we where standing on ice. A thrust with the ice axe, indeed there was a sheet of thick ice below us. Confirmation that we had come down where I had thought we would. We where standing on the ice of two small pools that lay at the foot of the valley headwall. Suddenly we popped out of the cloud and murk and could actually see the valley stretching away before us. Further down we stopped for a much needed break and managed to contact the other party to inform them we would be late. They had already arrived back at the car and had been surprised that we had not been there. It took time to pick our route down through the valley. Deep snow lay in some place and often we plunged in deep and had to struggle to extract ourselves. There was also a river to contend with. Further up it had been totally frozen, as we descended it flowed sluggishly down the valley floor. At times coverd by banks of snow. Dave managed to plunge throw one thin crust of water worn ice but was ok. It was sheer joy when we eventually hit the main path across the plateau. Once more we had to stop and put on crampons to move across sheets of water ice. Dave by now was flagging badly and felt a sense of guilt for nagging him, chivvying him on. It was getting late and almost dark. We arrived back at the car park some three hours later than intended. My hair was a tangled mess of icicle dreadlocks, my rucksack sheathed in ice. Dave did not look much better and we where exausted. One of the party had kindly waited for us and she was very relieved to see us emerge out of the gloom. A quick phone call to the others to let them know we where ok, everything bundled in to the boot of the car as quick as possible and we headed out. A few scary moments as the car fishtailed on the icy road but we eventually got back to our digs for a very welcome bath, a change of clothes, a hot meal and welcoming open fire.