Chapter 17
seventeen
BéBHINN
Snowdonia Way Mountain Route
Daily Journal
Day 9
Bethesda To Conwy
Distance: 17.9 miles (28.9 km)
Total Ascent: 1,134 m (3,720.4 ft)
4:47 am
Since I decided to fully forgive you, I feel lighter this morning—and nostalgic. Remember when you, me, and Mom would binge The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings movies when I was little?
It’s one of my favorite memories.
So, how’s this for you? “Not all those who wander are lost.” Bilbo Baggins got me thinking. I realized that you aren’t lost, only wandering. I will see you again.
I can live with that.
My stomach hasn’t stopped fluttering. More so than on any other day.
There are days it feels like you’ve been gone for years, and others that feel like it’s only been hours.
I think the fluttering is because I woke up thinking about what you meant to me, what you’ll always mean to me, and I felt… happy.
I need to call Nan. No need to scold me. I know I need to visit my grandma. I miss her, and with the exception of Mom, she’ll be the happiest to know I’m doing better. Since Pa Dunn passed, I haven’t made nearly enough time for my namesake. I swear that woman has the second sight.
I’ve avoided thinking about where you are, but now that I’m coming to terms with our new relationship, I wondered if you get to see Grandma and Grandpa O. I bet your folks were so mad at you for being there too early.
Today is going to be a great day. Watch out for me, Dad.
Seriously, though, I feel like something important is coming my way.
Wish me luck! I love you.
B
Bébhinn felt her stiff shoulders tense further as the same feeling of being watched swept her back. Why today of all days? She’d even bragged in her journal about the epic last stage.
She’d started early. It had been dark except for the clear moonlight when she’d left the bunkhouse. The weather was enough of a concern to make her push hard.
Alternating between a jog and a swift walk, she managed to cover eight miles before lunch. Her pace wasn’t the problem. The darkening sky and the ever-present creeping sensation of being watched were bringing down the day. However, she hadn’t felt like eyes were on her for over two hours.
The creeper vibes could have been her nerves talking. The weather was not holding like the weather reports had predicted early this morning. An hour ago, she’d ensured her emergency Garmin locator was active just in case.
She was pushing her body hard because she wanted to reach the rough bunkhouse before dark, and she should, easily. The question was whether to blow by the night’s shelter in the hopes of beating the storm, or at least get closer to Conwy and her ride back to her Jeep.
The bunkhouse had no water or electricity, but it did have a roof and a door, and a cot. If she didn’t beat the weather, the alternative was sleeping rough. She had a tarp, but the black and gray clouds gathering above didn’t bode well for a dry night’s sleep if she didn’t make Conwy.
She stopped by a fast-running stream to wash her hands and face and to refill her water skin.
She wouldn’t admit it to her brothers, but damn did she regret not remembering to bring the sat phone they’d bought her.
She could at least call for accurate weather reports instead of trusting her eyes alone.
There was nothing for it but to press on. She was making excellent time. According to her map, she should hit the bunkhouse in another five hours if she kept at a slow jog. She would assess then.
Without a doubt, Bébhinn’s panting breaths could be heard for miles. She bypassed the bunkhouse two hours ago and had regretted the decision for approximately an hour and thirty-five minutes.
Visibility was down to twenty percent; heavy snow, wind, and fog were a treacherous combination. Hoping for the best was over. She needed to make a decision and fast, or she would be putting her life in jeopardy.
Cursing her foolish decision yet again, she slowed to a walk and looked for a reasonable spot to hunker down until the weather let up, which probably wouldn’t be until morning.
She attempted not to be spooked about the abrupt darkness and lack of visibility, taking several deep, calming breaths.
“Think. Think, think, think. There are rock outcroppings everywhere,” she reassured herself out loud. There were hundreds upon hundreds of small caves throughout the Snowdonia range. Surely, she could find one.
Turning on her phone, she went to the downloaded maps and found the one with the most detailed topography of her current location. It was dangerous to go off-trail when visibility was limited—she didn’t have a choice.
She’d studied that particular map last night and again this morning to prepare for the type of situation she was unfortunately in.
The map showed a promising ridge not more than three hundred feet north of her position.
Making up her mind, she struck off the path.
Her body was shivering from the quick drop in temperature.
Finding shelter and starting a fire was fast becoming critical.
Twenty minutes of slow, careful steps later, the long branch she’d been using as a measuring stick hit rock—falling into a crevasse wasn’t on today’s agenda.
Straining her eyes to see through the blizzard-like conditions, she could just make out several ridges of rock under the snow, leading to what had to be the line of boulders and outcroppings from her map.
“Thank God.” She wanted to run to the possible promise of shelter, but forced her feet to move at a steady pace and kept poking her stick left, right, and center as she went.
Thankfully, another line of trees began several feet ahead, running parallel to the rock face, creating a wind and snow break and allowing her to see more clearly.
When she spotted a dark break in the gray rock, she knew she’d found a cave and prayed it was deep enough for her needs. She wanted to rush to the opening but forced her trembling legs to keep steady.
Finally reaching her goal, she could bend and shine her pen light inside the cave. She was relieved to see the narrow opening widen enough to make a pallet and build a fire. She could almost stand to her full height as she moved inside.
Her body shuddered in relief as the biting wind ceased buffeting her body. She took a deep breath as she pulled her face guard down and assessed the cramped but completely acceptable space.
There wasn’t any sign of animal occupation. “Thank you again, Lord, for that.” She had no desire to share her bed with critters or creepy crawlies. Mostly leaves and twigs littered the floor, which she could use to build a fire.
Before settling in for the night, she needed to brave the outside once more to relieve her bladder—a miserable process in this weather—and gather twigs and anything else that would burn.
Her chest felt considerably less tight having found shelter. The storm had descended sooner than predicted, but she prayed that the prediction of the storm being short-lived was still accurate.
Pulling her face mask up, she told her dad, “It could be worse, Dad. My phone could work, and I’d have to listen to your sons chew my butt for an hour.
” She hated that her mom would worry, but the moment she was close to the pick-up location, she would have service again and call her mom immediately.
With renewed determination, she left the cave for supplies.