Hiker

He looked above the blood red, eastern horizon. Storm clouds, driven by a bitter, north-easterly wind, were gathering over the mountainous terrain. He pondered whether he should delay for a day or at least a few hours. A key decision that he did not wish to contemplate as he was already a day behind schedule. Anyway, people’s lives were depending on him, so the choice had already been made.

Quickly he stowed the tent, sleeping bag and meagre supplies into his weathered rucksack, before pulling his mud-stained boots over his blistered feet. For the tenth and hopefully the last consecutive day, he scanned the tattered map and checked his small compass. The first drops of wetness cut into his unshaven, wind-beaten face as he turned his stocky frame due north towards the rapidly darkening sky.

For five hours he hiked, climbed and slid as the growing sadistic weather did its best to stem any real progress. Squinting through the pounding rain his dark eyes hopelessly searched for any kind of shelter.

Reluctantly he turned his back to the deluge and searched his pockets for the only nourishment possible, without having to risk opening his rucksack. He quickly devoured his last wheat meal biscuit before re-checking his direction. Shrugging his broad shoulders he continued north. It was going to be a long, hard afternoon’s trek, with the increasing likelihood of having to endue yet another night under canvas.

Another two hours elapsed before the weather conditions eased slightly and vision finally began to improve. Heartened a little, he pushed his cold, saturated and wind-swept self onwards to the slowly approaching mountain range.

Nightfall found him searching the lower foothills for a suitable site to set up camp. He prayed that the morning’s weather conditions would be kind enough, to allow him to finally complete his challenge. It was just a moderate climb to the summit then an easy eight mile stroll to civilisation. The thought of a hot bath and proper bed galvanised his mind.

The night was dry but very cold, marking the onset of a premature winter. The temperature slowly dropped to below zero, as fog and ice slowly rose from the valley floor, covering the canvas with a white veneer. Bitterly cold and only a little drier he laid his outer clothing onto his worn sleeping bag before sliding into its tepid interior. Drawing his knees up to his chin he eventually drifted into a fitful slumber.

That’s how he was found two days later when, as the morning sunrise sent welcoming rays of comfort onto the frost covered ground, the mountain rescue team gathered up the man’s belongings and carefully stretchered his lifeless body into the waiting helicopter. The pilot cast his eyes over the unwelcome cargo and grimaced at the irony. A yellow sweatshirt lay beside the body bag. Displayed in large red letters across its back were the words: ‘People’s Lives Challenge. Support the charity that safeguards our national well-being.’