When I was a sprightly youth
I used to go on all the hill walking & mountain climbing school trips

One very cold winter we climbed Snowdon in the snow and ice. It was spectacular, it was one of those winter days that make you glad to be alive, bright sunshine but nice and frosty. The views were amazing from the top. We had our sarnies & tea then made our way down.

I didn't much care for the walk down. The reward for the burning calves and lungs was the view, and the walk down hurt another set of muscles. The path we were walking down had banked sides and looked a bit like a mini bobsleigh run and I was wearing waterproofs head to toe which is quite slippy. *ding* went a little lightbulb above my head.

So I sat down a slid down on my ass. I was gonna be down this mountain in no time. I leaned back onto my rucksack and tucked my legs up to get some real speed. As I said the sides were banked so they were effectively keeping me on the path, but because I was going so quickly I flipped out of the banking and started to slide very quickly down a much steeper slope towards a massive drop. I dug my feet in to slow myself but that just caused me to spin around so I was going down backwards, panicking now I dug with hands and feet and scrabbled and tried desperately to stop myself from sliding and eventually I stopped about 2 meters from a cliff edge. I climbed very carefully back up the slope my heart pounding.

I had nightmares about that feeling for about 5 years
(sittingduck Attention seeking, bullshitting fuck-knuckle, Mon 16 Feb 2009, 16:24, Reply)