These two walkers had the same idea as me — that there are better things to do sometimes than sit around in an office on a Wednesday. I started my trek in Keswick and had come along this path just previously, so I know where they’re going.
The little peak rising to the right has no official name but stands at 1380 feet above sea level and counts as a Wainwright, hence why I sought to climb it. If you have no idea what ‘a Wainwright’ is, see my other blog. This was the 61st out of the 63 that I turn out to have rebagged this year.
I worked on Sunday so I could walk today, Monday. I’m no idiot. There were reasons for this.
The picture is taken in the valley of Yewdale, north of Coniston in the Lake District. The fell in the background is Wetherlam. And an appearance for the moon, too — hiding away among a couple of similar little fluffy clouds, which is as aggressive as the sky got all day.
I guess there’s all sorts of metaphorical and analogical interpretations which could be put on the title of this post, but it’s all literal — these people (and obviously, myself) were engaged this morning on the climb of the steep south slope of the hill known as The Law, just outside the little town of Tillicoultry, which is visible below. Why? On a day of glorious sunshine like this, why not?
Lingcomb Edge is the north-western buttress of the fell of Red Pike, above Buttermere. As I took a shot of the broader panorama, I noticed the three walkers (I’m pretty sure there are three) way over there and zoomed in as much as I could. I like the way the viewpoint has formed the hills and moors behind into waves, curling around the contours of the land.
And no, I wasn’t at work today. If you’d seen the weather you’d understand why. I worked Sunday. Honest.
One last chance to get away from it all before teaching starts, and if one is going to get away, the Shap Fells, in the far east of the Lake District, is certainly the place to do this. Two days’ walking (of which today was the first), over 24 miles, and I saw more deer (three) than people (none). High House Bank is the easternmost Wainwright and rises attractively over the valley of Borrowdale below (this is not the Borrowdale you’ve heard of, by the way).
This isn’t quite the summit of Grisedale Pike, which at 2,593′ above sea level, commands a prospect that range from the Pennines (visible in the background of this shot) to the hills of southern Scotland. But you get the gist, even from this slightly less elevated position. I did have a cute shot from within the woods of Whinlatter below, but let’s get expansive. I spent too much time today tramping round under cover of trees — I want some fresh air and views.
I had to get myself out into some fresh air — the thunderstorms, which have been a constant presence for days, also relented. The sheep seem still to suspect me of some nefarious and unstated crime however. There was a lot of this today; sheep were definitely the dominant lifeform in the region.
Ben Nevis is a mountain of two sides, for sure. On the south side, a vast but rather dull slope up which hundreds toil daily; the payoff for climbing continuously for three hours being the chance to attain the status of Most Elevated Person in Great Britain, at 4,411 feet (or 1,345 metres). We secured this goal at 11.24am.
But going up that way doesn’t show you the other side, the North Face, with its stupendous crags and (after the tourist path) blissful sollitude. This is the connoisseur’s side of the mountain, the place where you can really look up and feel, yep: this is the culminating point of the whole country, it really doesn’t get any bigger than this.
A warm and sunny day, too warm really to be out yomping another ten miles over the Lake District, but I think I survived it. The foxgloves were certainly relishing it. Pictured on the descent of Steel Fell, which is up there to the right, and above the valley of Greenburn Bottom (a name, which if unpicked, could result in all sorts of images).
