I only bring you the really important stories here on the Footsteps on the Mountain blog, and here’s one that will have you choking on your Kendal Mint Cake.
The Everest season is now over, as are the usual regurgitated stories about traffic jams on the south-east ridge. It seems like a good time to report on what is, in my opinion, a far more heinous example of queuing on mountaintops that has emerged in recent years.
I first came across it in 2022, during our erstwhile queen’s platinum jubilee celebrations, which Edita and I celebrated by climbing all 14 Welsh peaks over 3,000 feet in height. As I made my way up to the summit platform of Snowdon / Yr Wyddfa, the peak with two names, I heard a voice ringing out:
‘I say, imagine being the sort of ghastly, selfish individual who would push their way to the front of a queue when other people have been waiting patiently.’
(In fairness, he probably didn’t say ‘ghastly’, but I use the word here to illustrate the sort of person we’re dealing with.)
The accent was English and the manner a restrained sarcasm that we now call ‘passive-aggressive’. I’m guessing the man was a schoolteacher. It took me a few seconds to register that his remark had been aimed at me.
I was puzzled. I hadn’t exactly pushed my way anywhere; one side of the summit platform had been empty, so I simply walked up to it and asked Edita to take my photo.
It was only after the man had made the remark that I noticed a line of around 20 people on the other side who had been queuing to take their own photos. I had sort of noticed this queue but it hadn’t occurred to me that they were queuing for the summit. Snowdon is a bizarre mountain that has its own visitor centre, cafe and railway station on the top. It seemed much more likely they were queuing for ice cream (which would have been perfectly sensible, by the way).
There was no sign indicating that you had to queue and no stewards ushering people into a line. On my many previous visits to this particular summit, people have simply crowded together. A bit of jostling was necessary; you had to be wary of selfie sticks swinging towards you, but people were always happy to make room. I’m not aware of any fights ever breaking out over a summit photo. Until now.
This time, however, an orderly queue had formed and people had chosen to join it. These Brits are crazy.
I might turn the man’s statement back on him:
Imagine being the sort of oddball who walks all the way up a mountain, and then waits for an hour in a queue to take a photograph, when they can just take it.
Why would you do that? I can think of a few reasons, but none of them make any sense. If you object to sharing the summit with someone else, that in itself is suspect. Summits are for everyone. If you want a photo with no one else in it, just walk to a different part of the summit. Or if you want to pretend there was no one else on the summit platform with you, there are easier ways to remove people from the background than waiting for an hour. ChatGPT and other AI tools will do it in a fraction of the time, and enhance your pectorals at the same time to make you look more ripped.
Let’s be clear on this: queueing for half an hour or more in sweltering heat to have your selfie taken at the summit of a mountain is not normal. It ranks alongside starting a conversation with your neighbour on a crowded train, facing backwards while travelling up an escalator or wearing a sombrero in a cinema as being one of the things respectable people should never do. And while we’re on the subject of trains, the Northern Line at rush hour is a great example. People just get on with it and squeeze into the carriage. If you try to start an orderly queue then you’re just going to be late for work.
This disease has spread to other parts of the country. When I climbed Pen y Fan in South Wales last year, another peak that I’ve climbed multiple times without encountering summit fever, there was an even longer queue of people waiting on an even broader summit.
Last month, this behaviour also hit the headlines. Two charity hikers, Jamie Richardson and Richard Theideman, had raised money for a friend with motor neurone disease (MND) by completing the Three Peaks Challenge of climbing Ben Nevis, Scafell Pike and Snowdon in a single 24-hour period.
They were sunburned and exhausted as they arrived on top of their third and final peak having been on the go all day and all night. If anyone should be permitted to stroll up to the cairn and have their photos taken without waiting for an hour in sweltering heat, these two fine young gentlemen certainly deserve that honour.
And yet, in their moment of triumph, they were booed and jostled. Someone shouted ‘you should be ashamed of yourself’. One man even tried to stop them touching the summit cairn. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn that people blew raspberries.
We hear about terrible things happening in the news. And now this.
And yet, there is hope. I can see a simple solution to this seemingly intractable problem.
Life is extremely polarised these days, but if two very different sorts of people climb Snowdon, then why not cater for both of them?
Snowdon’s summit is big enough to accommodate two summit cairns. Those who prefer to just get on with it, take their picture then find a quiet spot to enjoy their lunch can continue to jostle their way onto the summit platform for a team shot with whoever happens to be there at the time. I fall very much into this camp. Even my Everest summit photo has someone behind me taking a selfie with their phone. My Everest summit day took 18 hours. Waiting for another hour on the summit for everyone else to clear off would have been madness.
To me anyway, but not to everyone. People who prefer queuing for their summit photo should be provided with a separate summit cairn.
But if we’re going to go down this route then it should be done properly. These people should pay a small fee for the premium service. This fee will be subject to dynamic pricing: the longer the queue, the more you will be expected to pay. There will need to be two separate lines for men and women. Each person will have to submit to a frisking from a uniformed man or woman wide enough to block a Messi free kick on their own. They will need to remove any coins from their pockets, along with belts and shoes. Trekking poles must be confiscated. Their bags must be searched. Phones and liquids will need to go into a separate see-through container. If they are carrying alcohol then it will either be confiscated or they will have to down it there and then before stepping onto the summit. Under no circumstances should they carry tins of beer hidden inside a tube of Pringles.
Then and only then can these file-o-philes be allowed to have their photos taken alone on the summit.
By erecting two summit cairns, the wishes of both sets of hikers can be reconciled. Dangerous handbag fights will be averted, and social media users can go back to arguing about whether people should carry a map and compass (and know how to use them).
If you also feel strongly about this important issue then do please write to Eryri National Park Authority voicing your concerns. If they can afford to build a train station and a restaurant on the summit then an additional summit platform should be straightforward.
