Thursday 21st December 2023, 10:23am
Able 2 Adventure’s Gemma Hendry describes how she found her confidence in the winter mountains, even when faced with unexpected life changes. Adapted from an article originally featured in Scottish Mountaineer, Issue 98. All images: Gemma Hendry
When I first saw images of
mountains in winter, I was awestruck by the majesty of the landscape. But,
although they were incredible to look, they just didn’t seem to be for me. I’d
learnt to love the outdoors through camping, and your bog-standard outdoor
misadventures, but I didn’t know any mountaineers or have anyone to peer-learn
from. I knew I loved being outside and as many young people do, I thought I
could become an instructor after a week’s residential at PGL. I went into my
twenties with this notion and started working for centres as soon as I moved
out of home. It was here that I first heard about the Mountain Leader Award, although
it would be another five years before I was encouraged to do the training for
the Summer Mountain Leader qualification.
This was really the beginning of
my journey. Learning how to navigate and explore by myself opened up the
mountains to me. I loved it. It felt easy to do the logbook, and easy to be by
myself. In a year, I gained the Summer Mountain Leader qualification and my
love for being the mountains, both in the UK and overseas, continued to grow.
I read book after book about
winter and alpine experiences. What would it feel like to see an alpine sunset?
What does a crevasse look like when you’re face to face with it? I knew that
winter looked beautiful in Scotland, but it seemed so far away. Every now and
then, I would get the chance to experience a winter day in Wales or England. On
those occasions, I loved how it felt to be out there - how the winter mountains
looked, how they sounded.
Time passed and as I entered my thirties, a chance encounter with an instructor I’d met a centre in Australia ended with us a discussion about what we wanted to do now we were back in the UK. Both of us blurted out that we’d love to go walking in winter. A quick search on the internet for an introduction to winter walking followed. We managed to find one, taking place in the Cairngorms, at the beginning of the winter season.
Truthfully, went on the course with very little knowledge, and pretty inadequate equipment. Most of us start out with leaky waterproofs, borrowed boots and the neighbour’s ice axe. It takes time and personal experience to realise how critical it is to ensure your equipment is reliable. But we all need to start somewhere.
The next few years saw us chasing great winter experiences; tough days, wet days, windy days, and those “Should we be here?” days. Before I knew it, my friend Charlie had passed her Winter Mountain Leader and was beginning to guide others out in the hills. She’d ask me “When are you going to do yours?” I should have felt ready, especially as I’d moved to the Cairngorms and now had winter hills on my doorstep. But I was freelancing and found myself working more than I was exploring. Hoping a deadline would help, I booked the assessment.
But all my days off that winter felt like summer days on the hill. And when it came to the assessment, it showed. My navigation was out of practice, in fact, most things felt out of practice. As such, I was deferred, and invited to complete the assessment by doing a day of navigation.
And then, in the summer, I fell pregnant. Not a bad thing, but not quite the timing I thought it would be. I had believed there would be another winter before this would happen. This unexpected news left me with a lot of questions, but mainly what to do about the Mountain Leader qualification. I thought: “I’ll be pregnant if I do it this winter, but every winter after, that I’ll have a child. I should just do it, right? Could I still do it?” It felt like there were so many unknowns.
To add to changes, I’d also started community interest company, Able 2 Adventure, that year, specifically set up to support people of all abilities on their adventures. Through this work, I’d learnt to focus on your abilities, to take what you know you want to achieve, and break it down. Is there another way? Other equipment? Can you stop if needs be? How can others support you? I’d witnessed some incredible achievements and supported people with a whole range of abilities. Could some of these skills and experiences help me to complete my reassessment whilst pregnant?
I decided to see how I felt as winter began, and take it from there. At that point it was autumn, and I couldn’t see how I would manage a moment on the hill, as I was deeply immersed in the sickness of my first trimester. I told my friends that, if I could, I would be going out with them in the coming winter. Autumn came to an end and the usual November snows began, but it was still too early for me. My pregnancy was continuing to make me feel ill, which meant I could only watch as the posts and reports of incredible snow paired with high pressure, and glorious, dream-like days, with perfect skies and wonderful neve, rolled in from friends.
Then, the snow melted, and the temperature went up…and up, and up. My sickness subsided, my body started yearning for exercise, and I started to feel good again. That Christmas was mild, and there was no sign of snow. By the end of the year, I told my partner that I didn’t want to go to the usual New Year’s Eve celebration, where I would have to watch others drink and be merry, whilst I felt like going to bed with a glass of water! Instead, we opted to camp out at Gelder Shiel Bothy, with temperatures forecasted to be a balmy 12 degrees. This would be my first time carrying a pack whilst pregnant, and my first big walk - camping in a tent to top it off. The weather was amazing as predicted, and we made it to camp by midday. After a calm picnic lunch staring at the Coire of Lochnagar, we decided to walk up to the pass. The air was still, and we were both enjoying ourselves, so we kept going...and going and going. Before we knew it, we were watching the sunset from the top of Lochnagar.
The trip was a catalyst. I felt great. And that was it; I knew I could do it. On my return, I searched for an assessor willing to take me on at five-and-a-half months pregnant. Fortunately for me, I found Sandy at Scotch on the Rocks Guiding. He trusted that I would let him know if I couldn’t, or shouldn’t, do it that day. It was my body, and I would know, he said. What a revelation. And, of course, he was right.
For the next couple of months, every time I went out, I listened to myself. Some days I’d start out and it didn’t feel right, so I stopped. I would tell friends I had to go back and would leave the hill for another day. Other days, I didn’t feel any different. I changed my boots as my feet swelled. I used my partner’s jacket as I got too big for my own. I went through three different types of waterproof trousers to accommodate the ever-growing bump. And every day, in every way, I listened to myself and the baby.
The last time that I went out before the assessment, I went late in the day to get in a bit more night navigation, in a forecasted whiteout. I marched up feeling strong and navigated point to point. I increased the challenge by walking on bearings for over 1km on the plateau, taking in any changes to the landscape underfoot to keep me on track. And when I got to the end of a 1.3km whiteout leg, I stopped and soaked it all in. Here I was, more than five months pregnant, and I couldn’t have been more comfortable. In fact, I felt at home. Strong and independent, but without putting the baby at risk. I was warm, well fed, and comfortable. Not only that, but I was also happy.
The assessment went well. Not only the result, but the entire approach. They said that, if I could prove I could navigate, it didn’t matter that I was pregnant. They reassured me that it was okay for me to go out – I just had to be honest with them and trust in my ability to know myself and my capabilities. This is something that has stuck with me and is something we strongly believe in at Able 2 Adventure. The individual knows. They will tell you what they are capable of. I’m pleased to say that I passed that day, and I have been taking groups out in winter ever since.
The winter days I work on are about getting people out and building that confidence. Winter really is there for everyone. We’ve taken a visually impaired climber and his sighted guide on an introduction to winter skills course. And we’ve had winter experiences for autistic young people, focused on digging shelters and learning about the snowpack.
For me, all these experiences point back to the beginning and those winter photos. Back when I thought: “Those white hills can’t be for me.”
Well, it turns out they are.
They are there for all of us, and we can all learn how to enjoy them confidently. We just need to break it down, to be honest with ourselves, and to learn from each other.
Able 2 Adventure are a mobile outdoor activity provider for people of all ages and abilities, based in the Cairngorms National Park. They use adaptive equipment and a 'can do' approach to make the outdoors accessible to all. They offer a large range of outdoor activities as taster sessions, skills courses and multi activity programs, which can be tailored for individuals, families, groups, schools, clubs and organisations. In partnership with ClimbScotland, they also run Inclusive Climbing Workshops in Perth. To find out more, visit: www.able2adventure.co.uk
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