50 Shades of Hillwalking by Ralph Storer sampler

Three came back… just (author in centre)
to climb the last 500 yards to the summit was at liberty to do so
while the rest waited. Three of us took up the challenge –
myself, Dave and a schoolmate from another class whose name
I no longer remember.
Within a short distance the path disappeared, to be replaced
by a smooth snow bank that angled up to our left and fell away
into the mist on our right. Only a thin line of shallow footprints
hinted at the route onwards. In our innocence, we sat on the
snow bank, stamped our heels into the footprints and continued
to inch summit-wards with crablike movements. My thin nylon
anorak soon became a wet rag and my even thinner nylon overtrousers
were ripped apart by the wind, but the swirling cloud
made us unaware of the abyss below our feet and the danger we
were in.
I still recall the moment that our schoolmate lost his footing
and began to slide away from us. By chance, before he gathered
speed, his boot caught on a protruding pebble and his flailing
hands managed to indent the snow sufficiently to gain purchase.
He gasped. Dave and I held our breath. We were good boys and
didn’t swear.
Somehow, the boy wormed his way back up beside us and
the precariousness of our position finally dawned on us. We
retreated, in earnest silence, with infinitely more caution than we
10 siren call