The day I almost killed my girlfriend

...If I remember correctly, was August 25th, this year.

This was several weeks ago now, whilst holidaying in The Lake District.

Having spent our first day exploring the park, and enjoying a rare break in the otherwise abysmal weather, I sat in the car in Ambleside regarding the map with a furrowed brow.

Ambleside, is the main centre of tourist activity and commerce in the 'Lakes. It was early evening, the sun was beginning to dip behind the peaks, and we were some thirty miles away from our hostel where we would be spending the next few nights.

“There are two routes” I mused aloud, studying the road atlas “We can go the long way round, via the A593 and A595. Or...”

Then I paused momentarily as I traced a small unclassified road that took a more direct route, snaking through the centre of the park.

“...There’s this road here, there’s only one gradient chevron indicated in the atlas, and what’s more with the clear weather it should be pretty stunning scenery.”

“Ok, if you’re sure.” said girlfriend, perhaps more out of tiredness from a long day then perhaps genuine confidence in route planning skills “But it’ll be getting dark soon.”

“Oh we’ll be alright,” I reassured her, and her lad sat in the back of my car, “Trust me.”

“Riiiiight.” Said Girlfriend – her alarm bells already beginning to ring. She stifled a yawn, nervously.

I put the vehicle in gear and turned the car towards Langdale, blissfully unaware.

The first twenty minutes or so proved to be a tranquil drive along narrow country roads, hemmed in either side by dry stone walls. The road hugged the valley floor and for all intents and purposes we could have been driving one of Postman Pat’s gently meandering rounds if only we’d hummed along with the tune.

Then the road began to climb, gently at first, but then gathering altitude in earnest. The valley floor was suddenly hundreds of feet below us. Girlfriend shifted uncomfortably in her seat….

Then she froze as we passed this sign.

“It’s too late to turn back now, we’re losing the light.” I decided, besides I didn't get a chance to properly read the sign.

I was more worried about the fact that twilight had come all too quickly.

Girlfriend meanwhile, reminded me calmly and firmly how much she really did not like heights in the slightest. Not one bit.

See, maths has never been my strongpoint, at least not when I’m focusing on driving anyway.

That’s why I was never any good at calculating stopping distances. Another thing not to tell the Girlfriend I thought. So perhaps that’s why the full impact of 1:3 only really hit me when the valley floor really was hundreds and hundreds of feet bellow now, as we negotiated switchback after switchback.

The car slowed more and more as we climbed. This was going to take a while.

I’d met a few vehicles oncoming, lower down the valley, and they were tricky enough to negotiate a passing point. Stopping on this gradient would be the hill start from hell. In fact there wasn’t a chance to stop; there was nowhere to pull in. It was a case of attacking one bend after the other.

10mph, when you’re halfway up a mountainside, feels like 50.

I’d dropped down even into first gear at this point, and the engine was starting to sound like a norse god of thunder with severe Asthma.

I tried to put it into second gear.

The 1.6l engine gave an almighty sigh and began to shudder like it was choking.

Nope, that wasn’t going to work. First gear it would have to be then. For minutes on end.

This was not quite how it appeared on the map.

When we reached the head of the pass, before it dropped down into the next valley – I ventured to ask Girlfriend how she was feeling.

She didn’t reply.

I rebounded the question towards Boyo in the back.

“Yeah, cool!” he replied cheerfully, an answer which buoyed my confidence somewhat. He was clearly enjoying the views, whilst I couldn't afford to take my eyes of the slender ribbon of tamac ahead of me.

At least someone’s got faith in my driving skills I thought because I’m not so sure I can do this...

“Are you okay?” I tried to asked Girlfriend again.

“Mmmm.” Came a muffled reply from the passenger seat.

“What, sorry?”

“Just concentrate ok?!” Girlfriend shot back. I glanced at her – gripping the upholstery like she was sliding out of it towards certain doom - and then back at the road again. Ahead, I could see that we were gathering speed into another set of devilish switchbacks, this time to be tackled going downhill.

Girlfriend seemed to be listening to every whine and hum of the engine.

“I think your gearbox has gone.” She offered.

“Oh, thanks hon.”

Thankfully it hadn’t, but the strain was obvious on the car.

As we descended into the next valley I prised my nails out of the sterring wheel and began to relax a little.

“I think we’re past the worst of it, y’know.”

A mile or two later, the road began to climb once more.

Oh the penny dropped I forgot about the other pass.

And that, dear reader, is where I think in her mind at least, Girlfriend almost killed me.

Her first words upon descending into the relative of Eskdale?

“You owe me a double, of whatever alcoholic drink I choose.”