To make things even more exciting, the weather decided to come in. A whiteout. Exactly what we needed when the track had already disappeared under white powder.Our phones became our saviours, and we clung to their questionable GPS systems with all our hope. Stopping and starting, reversing and traversing, we trudged along the ridgeline (or what we thought was the ridgeline).Whenever we found ourselves beneath where we thought the trail was, we had to slog up steep, snowy inclines to get back on the ridge. It was a time-consuming and often disheartening process, especially when we would reach what we thought was the top, only to be met by a series of impassable rocks. Back down we’d go, and try another route up.Despite the many ‘scenic’ detours, we eventually reached the end of the ridge, marked by a signpost pointing down Bon Accord Spur. For those unacquainted with Mt Feathertop, Bon Accord Spur is known for being so steep you need to scoot down the track on your bum (and I take my hat off to those brave enough to hike up it).As we stumbled down the mountain, the fog dissipated and with it our panic. Our feet ached, our toes were wet, and our conversation had mostly run dry. Regular snack breaks helped to lighten the mood amidst the darkening sky. True Grit! Just as daylight’s arrival was welcomed, it was dearly missed when it made its way behind the mountain’s dark borders. We raced against the light. My mind grew misty and my legs separated from my body – they kept moving, quickly, but I was no longer the one controlling them.Finally, our head torches reflected white – the car.  ‘Yewwwww!’The crew at the end of their adventure