Alas, it was not to be.
We unloaded a tightly packed polo on a fine evening in Llanberis, ears ringing after the motorway game of 'How loud can you tolerate the vuvuzelas on the world cup commentary' went a step to far. Our dreams of watching the sunset from the summit still alive at this point.
Scenic goodness on the way up. Just to the left of this picture was the hope crushing sight of the summit wrapped in cloud.
You could feel the hangover as Dave and Cal rode past.
I feel this picture is a visual representation of trying to ride up a mountain after a few jars the night before.
Dave continues the long slog.
The good thing about Dave and Cals slow progress was it gave me time to get ahead and get some shots. Dave climbs into the mist, sunset dreams thoroughly crushed by this point.
That's the cheesy summit snap box ticked.
8pm on Friday night. Sweeet
No place for a railway bridge this.
Last time I rode the Llanberis I could be heard to say it was the perfect trail for a suspension bike. 2 and a bit years later I am on the Llanberis path again, having just exchanged the full susser for the rattly hardtail. I liked it.
Cal hardtails into the sunset that eventually emerged from the blanket of cloud. Snowdon, top venue for Friday nights.
...before Dave got all 'progressive' on the journey home. It was a great to get out and head for the hills again now exams and whatever else are finished. Summer is rolling round.