Small Steps with Paws and Hooves by Spud Talbot-Ponsonby

Author:Spud Talbot-Ponsonby
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Summersdale Publishers Ltd
Published: 2011-09-22T00:00:00+00:00

There was absolutely nothing speedy or neon about our ascent of Mount Keen. I winched Ben up the rough, ragged path one rope’s length at a time, as he stumbled and tripped, weaving this way and that from heather to boulder. We fed Ben water from the bottle and our stops became more and more frequent. Admittedly many of them were what we call Ben’s ‘tactical poo stops’ (when he stops to release the most pathetic of droppings in the knowledge that it gives him a breather, and there is always the chance we might not notice him grabbing a quick nibble while he’s there), but most stops were genuine. To Rob’s amazement the sweat ran like a tap from beneath Ben’s packs as we encouraged him on, as I once encouraged people who joined us for a day on the coast; ‘Nearly there. Just a little bit further.’ Hills are like life really. Just when you think you’re getting there you realise it is only a false summit you can see, and there is still further to go.

We are here now, at our 2,500-foot summit which is the shoulder of Mount Keen, and the highest point of the journey in every sense so far. Rob has taken Barnie on to climb his first Munro, this small speck scrambling up the rocky path, and Tess, Ben and I are taking time out on the low road. I cannot even feel Ben at the end of the lead rope behind me. After the struggle to get up here we have winged feet and hooves.

The views under this watercolour sky are fantastic. The few vacant clouds are throwing their shadows over the russet hills and these, combined with the patterned effect of burnt patches of heather, give the hills texture. There are no trees to give texture. There are few burns or bogs or rocky outcrops – and the absence of all these gives this feeling of space. I could take two steps and glide, so great is the feeling of air and lightness. It is as though we are drifting on this silent air, suspended in space and time. My legs feel light and my footsteps rhythmic.

Every now and then we stop for Ben to drink from a puddle. Sometimes Tess follows his example and they drink together. Then Ben moves away to nibble at the green grass which grows around the puddles. We are in no hurry. Between them they have eaten three packets of polos since we have been up here. I feel such enormous affection for both of them and I can express this at such times of peace – a language of jobs completed, journeys taken, trials overcome. It is the language through bonding which, even in the human world, needs no vocal expression. I know that Rob and I feel closer than ever because of this silent companionship, silent language. This gem is a reward of the road and the hardships it hides.

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