>Three of four times on the way up, girls went past us, quite easily, but we stopped worrying about our manlyness when one of them broke into a jog, and we realised that they were probably professionals.


Fell runners scare the bejeezus out of me. I was once up Striding Edge (link below for description)with three very experienced mountaineers of my acquaintance, shivering my derriere off under about five layers of clothing. Whilst examining one of the "On *insert date*, *insert name* fell to his death from this spot" plaques and looking at the pretty crampon marks caused by the real mentalists who think it isn't a nice day out unless it's thigh-deep in snow, a guy wearing shorts, singlet and Nike running shoes ran past us, hopping from rock to rock like a mountain goat. I had to ask everyone else if they had seen him, just to make sure I wasn't hallucinating.

Think of all the synonyms for mad and you still wouldn't have the words to describe them.

Bo"Mt Sulfur? Shouldn't there be a smoking pit of fire at the top, into which you can lob smug, running, overly-fit girls?"urne