Peter Peter..? 14 8 5 (14) 25 1 22
No what it is is this guy I met in
Scotland on the evening of 14 6 14 climbed a hill with him and his friend 14 6
15 and waved them goodbye on the morning of 14 6 16, then just this week I
learn from our common friend that he died in a climbing accident not 20 miles
distant from where the three of us had such a good day out together...
When I heard the news I was dumbstruck
for a time so taken aback by the news for Peter the guy who died was arguably
the most experienced climber of the 3 of us who struck me as being most
competent on our day out together and also the fittest...His friend also called
Peter told how Peter senior by a year had climbed 51 of Europe’s 60 x 4000+
metre summits when to everyone’s relief in their Alpinists’ Club he had
retired…
But I had to write Peter almost
immediately and so my letter of condolence was not perhaps the best such letter
I have ever written, telling about my shock and talking about how happy I was
to have eavesdropped their conversation the night we met sitting as they
were recalling their trials among the Fisherfield 6 hills as I joined the same
restricted dining area to eat my meal: prepared in this self-catering
Backpacker's Hostel on the Isle of Skye.
I went on to talk about the few events
which determined our chance meeting: how I’d left the same hostel 2 days before
to travel north for more hills but how incessant rain and a blistered foot not fully
healed contrived to bring me back empty-handed to stay another night, then my
delight at our meeting and their ready acceptance at my suggestion to join them
for their walk on the morrow… 3 men of similar age all pensioners.
The senior Peter had also completed his
round of hills in 1995 with his son whom he said was doing too little exercise
at the time, saying also how unusual it was for a father-son combination to do
them together: our walk was to be the younger Peter’s 10th remaining hill of
his round, whilst for me it was to be my 67th.
Before setting out senior P said how
important it was to have a good view-point to eat lunch and so it transpired as
the 3 of us sat aloft on the Cuillin Ridge next day at 13 00 hours…
I didn’t have so much opportunity to
talk to senior P on the hill that day as he lead our route most of the day, my
bringing up the rear, but I shared much chat with younger P, and it was
gratifying by the walk’s end that they each decided to stay another night at
our hostel joining me in my caravan £12 the night and sharing a celebratory
dinner…
We drank the odd glass from my bottle
of red wine before dinner in the restaurant a few doors away and drank draught
bitter with the meal, thereafter sharing Peter’s bottle of red wine plus the
odd wee dram of Peter’s whiskey.
I shall remember senior P for being an
impassioned speaker with forthright views and hope with younger P we can
continue to meet and keep his memories alive still.
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