We were nearing the end of our descent from Scotland's Ben Nevis on a bright April afternoon. My companion was Vicki from Sheffield and we had earlier approached the mountain from its north side under clear skies, writes John G. O'Dwyer.
By the time we topped out, however, the Ben had once again confirmed its name, which in Gaelic means "venomous one". On the summit snowfield the cold was such that, despite several layers of insulation, we fled the top in 10 minutes. Now we were back in sunshine and looking forward to some grog and gruel in Fort William.
"How far to the top, then?" The question came from the first of two English youths wearing jeans, T-shirts and sneakers. Their sweaters were loosely attached at the waist and they were carrying only Safeway bags clanking suspiciously of cans. Mountain climbing is, of course, all about personal responsibility, so I told them it would take about three hours. Nevertheless, I also felt constrained to add, "You really should be wearing boots."
Vicki, however, was imbued with North Country directness. "You're crazy," she told her countrymen. "You're not equipped. It'll be almost dark by the time you get there and the forecast is bad."
The young men smiled amiably, said they had been through worse and continued summitwards. Next morning BBC Scotland had news that two English climbers had been rescued with minor injuries by a mountain rescue team from Five-finger Gully near Nevis Summit, around 5am.
Climbing is, of course, a risky activity and there will always be climbing accidents, even for some of the most safety-conscious individuals. However, the main reason for the high number of mountain emergencies is that many hill-walkers seem oblivious to the very real dangers, aptly demonstrated by the English pair encountered above.
Irish mountain rescue teams receive about 200 call-outs annually, many of which are easily avoidable. According to the Irish Mountain Rescue Association, the most common mistakes are heading out ill-equipped, not knowing how to navigate, and not allowing enough time to get back before dark. Almost unbelievably, this can mean walkers heading up an unknown mountain - sometimes in fashion shoes following an afternoon in the pub - and then attempting a shortcut down over cliff faces as darkness closes in.
The cavalier attitude of many hill-walkers means that hillwalking is statistically riskier than sports such as boxing or grand prix motor racing, where a high premium is placed on safety. In any one year on these islands, we can expect 70 to 80 deaths on the mountains. Despite these sobering figures, our love affair with the mountains will no doubt continue - mostly, I think, because we enjoy the challenge, need the exercise and adore the scenery.
Increasing recourse to the mountains will inevitably mean more accidents and an increased demand for rescue services. Mountain rescue teams will face more call-outs, more rescues and inevitably more fruitless "bastard searches" for people - safely tucked up in bed - who didn't bother to tell anyone they got down safely.
In Ireland, rescuers are thankfully still voluntary and give the equivalent of four working weeks annually to the cause of safer upland recreation. The rescue volunteers also provide their own equipment and even pay petrol costs. Such altruism is certainly not universal. In most European countries mountain rescue is a commercial service and must be fully paid for, to the extent that many climbers now insure against this possibility. In Ireland, however, because our rescue teams are voluntary and therefore costless to those they help, they are sometimes subjected to a cavalier attitude from inconsiderate hillwalkers.
There is a growing trend towards the mobile phone call of first resort when facing any difficulty which comes around dusk. It goes something like this: "Hello, mountain rescue. We're lost up here on a mountain, somewhere. Could you ever come up and get us?"
Irish mountain rescue teams demonstrate an extraordinary commitment to a task involving little that is glamorous and much that is dangerous and which is always physically demanding. In return, they deserve to be called only to genuinely unavoidable accidents. So examine some common suppositions held by thoughtless hill-walkers and consider if you are guilty on any of these counts.
1. Trainers are the best footwear on the mountains because you can move faster.
2. You never tell anyone your route because you always decide as you go.
3. The altitude means your mobile phone always works on a mountainside.
4. This is Ireland, after all - not the Himalayas. Our mountains aren't high enough to be really dangerous.
5. You don't need a map and compass because you have a great sense of direction.
6. The weather will be good if the swallows are flying high.
Lastly, during the coming winter months, when mountain rescue teams will be at their busiest, try not to call our rescue volunteers from their workplaces, families or beds for anything but genuine emergencies. And if you are a regular hillwalker, perhaps consider making a donation to one of Ireland's 10 rescue teams, which are voluntarily committed to your safety on the hills. Contact details are available at http://imra.ie.eu.org/index.html.
John G. O'Dwyer is a hillwalker and mountain leader