Pollyanna's Walk

A sponsored walk over the UK's highest peaks
on 2nd/3rd June 2002

Please note that the JTSMA does not encourage individuals to take up the Three Peaks Challenge as the popularity of the event is slowly causing environmental damage. However we hope that this article will inspire a walk elsewhere!!

In February 2001 our six-week old daughter, Pollyanna, was diagnosed with Spinal Muscular Atrophy. S.M.A. is a genetic disorder preventing messages issued by the brain from reaching the different parts of the body. The result is major paralysis of the muscles in and around the torso of the individual, leading to limited limb movement and difficulty in breathing. It also meant that in Pollyanna's case, the consultant gave her very little chance of survival beyond 18 months. Currently there is no known cure.

On the 22 May 2001, Pollyanna died peacefully in our arms aged five months and two days.

The defective (or mutant) gene is present in 1 in 40 people. If both parents have inherited this mutated gene is there a 1 in 4 chance of any offspring being born with S.M.A. Janeen and myself share this experience of living with a "genetic time-bomb" with hundreds of other families throughout the United Kingdom.

Our time with Pollyanna was painfully short. However during this time our family has been extremely lucky in receiving enormous amounts of help and generosity from all members of Huddersfield NHS Trust in ensuring that our time was special and precious. Words cannot express our gratitude to everyone involved, but we know that Pollyanna touched the hearts of everyone she met.

Since Pollyanna's diagnosis, we have had exceptional community/home care and the availability of vital equipment such as feeding pumps, suction machines and sensory toys free of charge. I have discovered that not all families in similar circumstances have been as lucky as us. Indeed, many others have no support whatsoever after diagnosis and are left to fend for themselves. The Jennifer Trust was founded by such a mother to provide support for families who have been affected by S.M.A. The trust is also committed to helping research into effective treatment and potential cures for the future.

We have a lot of fond memories of Pollyanna and her life was special. Her life has inspired me to become involved in raising awareness of S.M.A. nationally and in supporting the role of the Jennifer Trust, a registered charity, through sponsored events.

Planning

Richard Boyden, my best friend from childhood, and myself live at opposite ends of the country (Richard in Kent and me in West Yorkshire), we have always tried to team up once a year with a few of our friends and have a bit of a "lad's activity weekend". This usually involves some sort of 'challenging' activity followed swiftly by a good chinwag and copious quantities of beer!

When Janeen and myself had the bombshell of discovering that our daughter, Pollyanna, had SMA Type 1 in 2001, any weekend away was suddenly not very important. It wasn't until late October 2001, when Richard and his wife came up to see us both for the first time since Pollyanna's Funeral, that Richard suggested that a weekend away would be good for me and did I have any thoughts. We had some beer, discussed it with our wives and "surfed". It took us about 2 hours before we stumbled on a website for the "three peaks challenge", liked the idea and thought... "what the hell, lets go for it!". Over the next few months as the planning developed I read about Helena's Walk and the "on yer bikes" activities in Holding Hands and thought that the weekend would be a great opportunity to raise some money for the Jennifer Trust at the same time.

Therefore, in conjunction with some of my close friends we decided to undertake the challenge of climbing the 3 highest peaks in England (Scafell Pike in the Lake District), Scotland (Ben Nevis) and Wales (Snowdon) within a time limit of 36 hours. At the same time, we hoped to raise as much money for the Jennifer Trust as possible.

Richard Boyden, Steve Butt, Tom Castle, Ian Marsh and myself, Paul Turner, planned to set off from Ben Nevis youth hostel at around 1.30pm on Sunday 2 June 2002 (just after the England v Sweden match!), and to have descended Snowdon by 9.00pm on Monday.

The doing it part consisted of the six of us (we must not forget Chris Blanche - our driver for the weekend), a Peugeot people carrier, several mobile phones, plenty of CD's and enough junk food to stock a Sainsbury's superstore, as we traversed the country from the south-east via Scotland to North Wales, as we boldly went where quite a few people have gone before!

Ben Nevis

Only 24 hours to go!

At about 12.20hrs we were ready and headed 20 yards down the road to a bridge crossing the River Nevis. This leads to a stile on the other side, which we considered to be the start of our trip. I started the stopwatch (12.49hrs), and we were on our way. It was at this very early stage that we wondered whether it was a good idea to start at 12.45hrs. All our plans had been thrown into turmoil when the World Cup fixtures were announced and the England v Sweden match was scheduled for a 10.00 am Kick Off. Being mad football fans we could not miss England's opening game. But starting at lunch time rather than mid-morning would mean that we would have to make good time to get to Penrith at a reasonable hour, for our overnight stop.

The final training session on the eve of the walk

We thought rightly, as it happened because it meant we could sleep off the beers and whiskies sampled at the local pubs in bustling Fort William on the Saturday night, (how can you not visit a pub in Fort William called the Ben Nevis) and the low cloud and drizzle that was present all morning had cleared away leaving a bright though rather windy day. The one or two personal drawbacks which I instantly thought about 100 yards into our trip were a), how dehydrated I felt through drinking the night before and b), how I had an extra 4 hours to get nervous during the day instead of just waking up and getting on with it instantly.

Fitness?

Day 1, 12.50pm - 45minutes after the final whistle on the England v Sweden world cup match, Ian, Tom, Paul Steve and Richard gear up for the start of their challenge at the base of Ben Nevis

The track soon climbed and it was at this point my legs felt like lead, and the feeling of dehydration hit me. For the next hour I clutched a three quarter litre bottle in my hand, taking sips every minute or two. First bit of advice DRINK, DRINK, DRINK both before, during and after. There was no time for taking pictures. We soon noticed that Steve was the slowest member of the group and lagging behind. It soon materialised that he had taken the "drink , drink, drink" motto one step too far and had packed his rucksack with FOUR LITRES of water!!! Having quickly discarded two and a half of his bottles, he soon managed to keep up. It didn't take long before a steady pace was soon taking it's toll on thigh and calf muscles and we started thinking "I wish I had done more training!".

Oh, the snow!

After a couple of hours of boulders and loose stones we could see groups of people 30 minutes ahead of us to our right, starting to climb up a large snow covered gully (this is where the snow began). The weather at this point was closing in a little and the wind was getting fresher. We were lucky however that the visibility was still good as there are only about 30 days a year when Ben Nevis is totally free from cloud. When we reached this point we dug our heels in and trudged up the snow bank. Walking on the snow took a lot longer than if we had climbed the same gully under dry, snow free conditions.

Another false summit

Walking uphill took what seemed like ages and with many false summits ahead of us, and with a lot of other climbers returning down the mountain, it was very depressing. On the way up we continued before us. It was not long before my feet started to hurt with the snow and new walking techniques required. False summit after false summit soon became the norm. Then in the distance I spotted the infamous gullies, and knew that the trig point in the distance was this time the real thing. It's amazing how after feeling completely shattered and humourless after 2 hours walking, I felt as if I could have sprinted to the summit, if it wasn't for those cumbersome crampons that is. We hit the summit at exactly 14. 55 watching out for beck's and holes hidden beneath us and followed the step-like formation of former footprints.

Highest Person in the British Isles

The top of the mountain was idyllic, and the view of the surrounding mountains was very reminiscent of the Alps. If we had been looking for an incredible time we would have simply touched the summit and come back down again, but we were out to enjoy ourselves. We were not looking for records. Each of us had our own camera, and so went off in our separate directions around the summit taking various pictures of each other. After a quick brew up and some food to eat we thought about leaving, but not before we had phoned home using our mobiles to tell our parents we were safe and well. I phoned whilst sitting on the actual trig point itself, such was my excitement at the time, proudly muttering the words "I am now the highest person in the British Isles!". It was reassuring though having a full 5 bars of coverage on the Ben, just in case there had been a serious mishap.

Day 1, 2.45pm - Paul approaches the summit of Ben Nevis

Day 1, 2.55pm - All the "Gang" pose at the summit of Ben Nevis

Car, sweet car

We started to walk down at approximately 15:15hrs. This was the bit we had all looked forward to. At this point I believed we would soon be back at the car. However I soon realised that the trek down the mountain was much further than first thought. Much walking was still to be done. After the calves, thighs and buttocks having done most of the work on the way up, it was now the turn of the muscles in the front of my shins to take me down the mountain, slowing me down after every step. Sheer exhaustion meant concentration was waning and we didn't want to come a cropper at this early stage, especially as rain was setting in and we were all getting rather wet. When the car was in sight, however it all spurred us on and we charged down the mountain as quick as we could in the conditions. The time was approx. 17:05hrs. Ever with an eye on the clock, and after "chuck in the car packing" we were off, with Chris at the wheel. Onward to Scafell Pike.

Scafell Pike

The trip down from Scotland to Penrith passed fairly uneventfully, basically because we were all shattered and had fallen asleep, curled as bet we could around dripping rucksacks and empty food packages. We reached the Travel Lodge at around 10.20pm and all stumbled into our beds. However we had been very pleased with our progress and decided that we would try and break 30 hours by setting off early the next morning. I think we all regretted the decision when the alarms went off at 4.00am and we simply could not move with stiff aching muscles. However dawn was breaking giving the sky a glowing red colour which raised our spirits and things were looking good for the remainder of the challenge.

Not a soul

We reached Seathwaite and prepared ourselves for the second ascent by 5:05am. We soon got into our stride and the gentle ascent up the valley meant that we could warm up our muscles before the hard climb waiting ahead of us. It was only as we reached the head of the valley that we noticed the cloud cover slowly descending over the peaks and by the time we had reached 1200 feet we were totally engulfed by it, with a visibility of around 15 metres. It was then that a steady rain followed and we were all soon soaking wet and cold with only our determination keeping us going. Soon the well worn pathways petered out and were taken over by slippery rock scree, with only stone cairns built by other walkers to show you the way. At this time we felt our most vulnerable. Perching on a rock half way up a gully with only poor light conditions, no sound, no wind and no other company at 07:00hrs was an amazing feeling.

DISASTER!!!

Walking along the shattered boulder field near the summit of Scafell Pike is a challenge within itself, let alone when the rocks are like sheets of ice in the rain and visibility is so poor. Suddenly a cry goes up and Tom goes down. DISASTER! He has slipped and twisted his knee in the process. We all ask if he is OK to go on to the summit but he is not sure. He can walk gingerly on level and uphill parts, but the pressures for walking downhill are a real concern. By now we are within around 800 yards of the summit (although at the time we were very unsure because of the lack of visibility) and we really had to consider calling the challenge off as we had already decided that we would complete it all together as a team. No one was going to be left behind. Tom decided to grit his teeth and 30 minutes later we reached the summit. We were all very relieved to touch the trig point (the time was now 07.52hrs).

Day 2, 7.50am - The gang reach the summit of Scafell. Conditions... not good!

Let's get back down again

This wasn't the place to hang around in. An immediate decision was made to take the shorter emergency route down to Wasdale Head and to phone Chris on our way in order for him to drive around to pick us up from the new rendezvous point. The going was painfully slow but Tom was determined and we managed to strike up a little rhythm to keep us all going. About half way down we started to meet people on their way up, and yes you guessed it, the rain stopped and the cloud started to lift. The day was to turn into a lovely sunny and cloudless afternoon. We soon turned our attention to phoning Chris as the road journey around to Wasdale takes about an hour. To our horror we soon discovered that Chris must have been waiting in a blind spot for reception, because although we had a good signal and were sending voice and text messages to him, Chris never got them!! Our only option now was to get to the pub and try to relay a message to him by other means. We finally staggered into the pub at Wasdale Head at 10.46hrs.

The Saga continues

Having reached the pub, we find that we cannot use our phones now either, so we end up having to buy phone cards and spend around £5 in telephoning everyone we could think of who Chris might contact if we didn't return, leaving details of the pub's telephone number. At the same time Richard had to ring up the police and contact the head of the mountain rescue team (the pub landlord) to advise them of our situation, so that no search and rescue team would be sent out looking for us. The one good thing about it all was that in the meantime all we had to do was to wait and have a pub lunch (I had the home made steak pie!) washed down with a couple of pints. By now some of the walkers we had seen going up the mountain were also returning for refreshments and we realised that breaking the 30 hours had gone for good!! All we could do was to sit in the sun and dry out our sodden clothing. But still no response from Chris.

Three and a half Peaks

As we were now all getting decidedly agitated with no word from Chris, it was agreed that I (having most knowledge of the routes around Scafell) should trek over Borrowdale back to our start point at Seathwaite to see if I could find Chris. Armed only with my mobile phone and some money, I set off at a blistering jog to get to my destination as quick as possible. I now know what it is like to be a fell runner. The uphill parts are a steady walk, but the downhills are a fast jog, every bone in my body was being jolted. Amazingly, I covered the five miles in around an hour and upon arriving, I saw Chris about to start one last walk up the path before looking to go and get some help. The relief on both of our faces when we saw each other was a welcome sight. It was then a swift tour around the Lake District, with Chris driving like a man possessed. En route I was able to pass on the good news to the rest of the chaps who were all ready to bundle into the car when we arrived at 15.00hrs. By five past, we were all settled down and on our way to Wales recounting all our stories of the day, ruing the loss of 5 hours but all very glad that what could have been a major disaster had been avoided.

Snowdon

Chris, now driving just within the bounds of the speed limits, was having a great drive down to Snowdon with no problems at all on the road. We were quite content to sit in the back and sleep once more. Time was of the essence.

We finally reached Pen-Y-Pass (near Llanberis) at approx. 18:15hrs. and saw the car park we were going to park in. Obvious relief was in evidence on all of our faces. Fortune smiled on us as well. Because we were late on our schedule, the car park which would normally be packed with Bank Holiday tourists was half empty. We packed the rucksacks, filled the bottles, went to the toilet in turn and headed off. One big disappointment to the group was that Chris, who was going to attempt the final peak with us, decided against doing the climb. As the light levels were starting to fall and the fact that we knew that we had to put on some pace to finish before darkness engulfed us, he felt that it would be a huge struggle for him. We left him at the car park with orders to start putting some well earned beer and champagne we had been saving "on ice" and listening to the build up of the Pop Concert at the Palace.

Under Pressure

The first mile or two was climbing the Pyg Track above and around Llyn Lydaw and was relatively steady. Snowdon seemed to rise magnificently high ahead of us to our left as we ascended. There is something so peaceful and tranquil about walking around dusk which was highlighted even more with the breathtaking views around the corrie. Soon the track started rising quite steeply and became very rocky. Tom was feeling his injured knee starting to play up again and we all simply plodding on monotonously in the gathering gloom, wishing that we could all be finished and go home. Richard kept spurring us on, offering comments such as "It's all in your mind, keep on walking!".

No stopping Now

Day 2, 8.00pm - At the summit of Snowdon.

We suddenly hit the final ridge and I soon recognised the last 400 metres leading up to the summit from previous walks up the mountain. I was at this point confident we could reach the summit and descend before it got totally dark. I must admit however, those 400 metres seemed more like 4 miles to us. We had ascended in 1 hour 45 minutes and had 2 hours to descend, (relatively easy barring mishaps). At the summit the customary pictures were taken and we felt we had enough time to buy a can from the shop at the summit. Murphys' law it had shut for the day. A funny emotion came over me at the top. A feeling of anxiety on the climb from realising that we might fail the challenge was quickly replaced by a feeling of anti-climax as we knew we would now complete the 36 hour challenge. The feeling of elation and success had almost completely passed us by. For us at this point it almost seemed as if it was all over, yet we still had almost 2 hours to go.

Success!!!!!!!!

Day 3, 10.30am - We return to Llanberis for photo session and champagne!!

We returned to the gully indicating the split between the Miners' track and Pyg Track. Although it was probably the more arduous and undulating route, we decided to stick to the Pyg Track as Tom didn't think his knee would survive descending the scree to get down to the level Miners' Track. The going again was slow due to Tom's weak knee, but nothing was going to stop him now. We chatted about many things on the way back to Pen-Y-Pass. The main topics however were how we all kept describing explicitly our first pint in the nearest pub once we'd finished and how we couldn't believe we had actually done it. We eventually turned the last corner and saw the car park lights in the distance. The last downhill 100 metres filled us with great achievement even though we could only just make out where our feet were going. Although we felt like running, knowing that the finish was there, tantalisingly in front of us, we had to make sure that none of us twisted or broke anything at such a late stage. As soon as we hit the tarmac I stopped the stopwatch: 33 hours 8 minutes!!! Not a world record but still well deserved and something to be proud of. All we had the energy to do was to crack open a bottle of champagne and with a toast "to Pollyanna", we knocked the bottle back between us before diving into the car (and almost instantaneous sleep) while we were driven to our accommodation for the night. The next morning after a good night of rest and recuperation we all made our way back to Llanberis for a "formal" photo session in the daylight, with more beer and champagne. Needless to say the weather was beautiful sunshine with a clear view ... well if all the two days had been like that, then it wouldn't have been that much of a challenge otherwise!!!

Thank you for your generosity and support.
Paul Turner

For more details about the walk and fundraising for the JTSMA, please contact the office