I met the bro and his pal Ian on a wind-swept and drizzly layby on the A591 just out of Grasmere in the approximate direction of The North Pole. Weather forecasters couldn’t decide whether it would be just showers or rain in the morning or if it would be a breezy old morning or what. In the end it rained till lunchtime.
We climbed Silver Howe. This was very steep. My legs were in “heavy” mode. maybe if I discarded 10 kg of wobbly fat it would be easier going uphill. I’m very fond of the wobbly fat, as it happens, since I have acquired it expensively in various drinking dens and shebeens throughout County Durham and parts of Yorkshire. Its a serious investment. It seems that its very fond of me too, however.
We progressed painfully uphill (see above) and a bit painfully downhill (knee) – and we bagged the little 414 metre Birkett Lang How, then the 411 metre Birkett Swinescar Pike. Or maybe we did them the other way around. Anyway, whichever way it was, at this point, the sun came out and the beautiful Langdale scenery revealed itself from it’s wispy nighty. Shame on it for getting up so late. Must have had a good night last night…
Anyway, after a bit of lunch including some dozing in the warm sun, we went on to bag various Castle Hows, just in case one of them was a Birkett, which, indeed, one of them was.
After visiting the Wainwright top of Blea Rigg – one of his strange summits which isn’t on the top of a hill, we descended past the daundering camping spot of last April and rambled along the shore of Codale Tarn, trying to remember where we’d camped back in 1981 whilst the inner cities of England battled it out with their local constabularies and Mrs Thatcher wasn’t for turning.
Tarn Crag followed (another Wainwright not on the top of a hill) and a pleasant wander down by Sout Milk Gill brought us back to the fleshpots of Grasmere.
It were grand.
It were windy.
My legs hurt.
8 miles and 2400 feet of heaving this adipose cadaver up contours which are much too friendly with each other for their own good. Nice views, though…