Returning to normal life after a week like that is a genuinely strange experience. On one hand, there is a huge sense of relief as you return to the creature comforts and routines of home; on the other, there is a profound loss of purpose. Days on an expedition are so full and intentional that normal life can initially seem "lacking". While that feeling eventually fades, the memories made and the moments we witnessed as staff remain. We know this because the children at the heart of these journeys continue to talk about them for years afterwards.

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It is incredibly hard to capture the scale of what was achieved last week; it went far beyond a simple "success". They climbed higher than they ever thought possible on rock faces backdropped by the stunning Eskdale Valley. They plunged into meltwater and navigated against the current, overcoming both the biting cold and the fear of losing control. They watched birds of prey soar just metres away and tested their mettle with crossbows, axes, and archery.

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But they also discovered where their limits were - and how they responded once they reached them:

• Some used those moments to stop - to "escape" the immediate pressure - and re-gather themselves. This is a vital skill: the self-awareness to recognise a limit, pause, and recount exactly how much had already been achieved. In doing so, they were instrumental in helping their peers find that same composure.

• Others responded by seeking to "rescue"; spurring others on and letting them get out first. This meant jumping back into the water during Ghyll scrambling to haul others out, or absorbing their own fatigue to literally support a friend to the summit of a 300m ascent.

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Quite rightly, these young people may never truly understand the impact they had on everyone (Staff included). We saw them sit in that communal space after an exhausting day and willingly volunteer for the "early shift" to cook breakfast. We saw them work together to produce amazing meals night after night, proving that being younger does not mean being incapable. Crucially, we saw that with age and experience comes a responsibility to mentor the younger and newer. The older ones stepped up to support the younger ones to achieve- acting as the same role models they once looked up to on expeditions past.

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It was in the "great" moments: asking if anyone wanted a hot drink, staff included, or having the maturity to check in on each other (once again, including the staff) with a quiet, "Are you okay?". They responded to change and navigated challenges that no route card could ever summarise. We saw 14-year-olds leading an entire team, 9-year-olds bouncing through waterfalls, and the youngest among them simply being constantly on hand to help - or secretly decorating the hostel with themed rubber ducks just to promote joy.

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It was not all about the adventure. When we gathered feedback, these young people all sang the same song: they loved the hostel time and the downtime with friends. Most strikingly, they respected the "energy of the room". They knew exactly when to celebrate at full volume, but they also knew when the moment required something quieter. We saw them instinctively settle into a game of chess or, in a moment of genuine peer-support, ensure a tired friend had a pillow and the space to rest for a while.

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None of this would be possible without the incredible staff team (Sam, Olivia, Laura, Caroline, Toby, Lou, Theo & Lucas). It is a huge responsibility to drive 600 miles and provide round-the-clock care, a task they handled with the same passion they brought to the mountains. They weren’t just "supervisors"; they dived in and climbed alongside the group. We must also mention the support staff on the vehicles; their dedication was the backbone of the trip, ensuring every child was supported regardless of the hour.

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Parents, carers, families - you already know this, but these are some of the most inspiring, compassionate, and resilient young people we have ever met. We acknowledge we are biased; we work with many of them week on week, for several years. It is a huge privilege, and we really do mean it when we say that every second of hard work was rewarded by these moving and profound moments.

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If your child would like to share their experience in writing or video, we would love to read it or hear from them!