You do need to be a slightly special type of crazy to enjoy a Three Peaks Challenge. At least a few times whilst crewing and taking part in these events I think to myself “I am not doing this again”…. and then somehow I always do. I actually relish the edge it takes me to; I love the support and encouragement I can give to tired souls who have just summited Ben Nevis in the rainy dark, to witness the gratitude with which a mug of warm soup is welcomed, to observe the courage and determination which participants dig deep to find to push on up Scafell Pike when their aching muscles are protesting. It never ceases to amaze me how exhausted bodies find the surge of energy needed to sprint the miners path, down from Snowdon to achieve the challenge inside 24 hours – faces emblazoned with triumph and disbelief. And I do smile when I am driving a hushed mini-bus across Rannoch Moor, dodging the Red Deer stags and I catch a glimpse in the rear-view mirror of sleeping heroes, trying to find a comfortable position beneath the gently steaming lines of damp clothing! Like I said, special kind of crazy….