A cautionary tale

Dangling Albert-A cautionary tale.

Albert dangled from the ledge by his fingertips wondering why had he thought this climbing trip to the Lakes was such a good idea? He blamed the rum. One fine Spring evening Albert decided that he would benefit from a bit of exercise, now when I say a glass of rum I don't mean a glass of rum; what I mean is best part of a bottle, Albert not being a chap inclined to do things by half. In fact the only halves Albert drank were the top halves of pints as he worked his way to the bottom of the glass. Anyway, I digress. There was Albert sitting in his local contemplating. He was contemplating his total lack of fitness. Perhaps some fresh air and exercise would be just the ticket. The last time Albert had taken any exercise had been sometime in the last Century, the last Millennium in fact. So to say that he was not at the peak of his fitness would be something of an understatement. He decide therefore that a walk in the Lakeland Fells would be a good start. Now any sensible person in Albert's state would have started off gently maybe progressing to greater things a little at a time. We aren't, however talking about any sensible person, we are talking about Albert. So forgoing a stroll along the beach or perhaps a wander up a small Lakeland Fell Albert went straight to the point and decided upon Helvellyn as his starter. Weeks passed with Albert still in contemplation mode finally gently spurred or shall we say goaded By the gentle ribbing (merciless abuse) of his drinking companions he finally bit the bullet and named the fateful day. Not that he imagined that it would be fateful at the time. So one dull Saturday, Albert climbed into his trusty van and set off on his adventure,

Albert pulled into the car park of a pub at the foot of his target. He decided that he deserved some light refreshment before his trek commenced. This light refreshment consisted of three pints of Old Peculier Which one might think is a very peculiar light refreshment for someone who was undertaking the first steps of his new fitness regime, was driving and was planning on driving back and was about to attempt an arduous climb. One would be correct. Suitably refreshed off our hero went in his ancient walking gear, 30 year old boots, venerable walking trousers and flannel shirt. We might note at this point that Albert had scorned all frivolities. Frivolities such as a coat, map, compass, food or water these he considered impediments which would only slow him down. Albert sauntered the half mile from the pub to the fell feeling highly encouraged by his light refreshments and the thought of his new regime getting off to such a good start. This mild euphoria lasted until he rounded a bend and encountered what appeared to Albert to be the North Face of the Eiger looming out of the gloom. Ah, the gloom. Something I may have neglected to tell you was what with the drive to the Lake District and his refreshment break time had somewhat crept up on Albert.

Even though it was Summer and the evening should be light this was an English Summer and as is traditional the day was dull and dank, not to mention dreary. Nothing daunted off Albert went up the fell. Up and up he went, each ridge line seeming like it should be the top. Only for it to laugh in his face and present him with a still steeper stage to conquer. As he climbed Albert became more and more tired, not to mention discouraged until finally the inevitable happened and Albert slipped and tumbled over the edge of a not inconsiderable cliff. So now we know why Albert, dangling by his fingertips was wondering why this climbing trip to the Lakes had seemed such a good idea.