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A Cambridge based coffee house day dreamer... I'm a lover of perilous adventure, supplemented on occasion with the simple pleasures of the world's greatest cities. I'm increasingly fascinated by culture, art and design and believe people watching to be a genuine pastime. A project delivery specialist by profession I combine creativity with a sense of urgency to deliver real change and make things happen. I love my work. I embrace the very best of the modern world and ignore the rest. I live a pack light, stay agile, stay liberal life, stopping to see the sights along my way. Our time is short and the world is big so i better keep cracking on.

Sunday, 24 April 2011

The Scafell Pike hike!

In February Sam and myself set off for the Lake District looking forward to some sunny weather but disappointed to be walking in regular conditions, far from that we found on Snowdon. Snowdon was meant to be our warm up, but we both agreed it could end up being the biggest challenge of all 3 peaks. As we got closer we found ourselves driving the Wrynose pass, taking us through spectacular countryside and up some 30% ascents. Pleased to still be alive we made it to the most excellent B&B in Boot. Boot was a fantastic place, it comprised a ½ mile road with 2 pubs / restaurants, a post office, phone box and B&B. Everything we needed.



On arrival we were straight into our first challenge: freeing Sam’s car from the boulder he had accidently reversed over. As men of action we soon had this sorted out! We were met by the B&B owner who was very friendly and offered us lots of advice for the tomorrows hike. Snowdon had left us with bags of confidence but this shouldn’t be confused with complacency. We had still brought all our kit and planned our route even more meticulously than last time. We had heard many stories of people getting lost on the summit plateau. That evening we enjoyed a few drinks and some great food in the pub before heading back to the B&B and sitting in front of the open fire.

The next morning we woke early and headed out on the 45-minute drive to the base of Scafell Pike. When I booked the B&B I noted that it was only 9 miles away from the mountain but forgot that this was the Lake District and the roads were slow going. On the way we passed Wastwater in all its splendour. So spectacular on this particular morning we had to stop and take some photos.

We eventually came to the start of the walk at Wasdale Head and in no time at all we headed out and up the mountain. Almost instantly we came across a field full of sheep, but these were no ordinary sheep. No, these we mountain sheep. The difference being that regular sheep seem to be relatively small and run at the first sight of you. These mountain sheep were the size of lions and starred at you like a bull. We walked swiftly and I couldn’t help but think how I would explain my injuries if attacked by one of these beasts. I’d be forever known as the man who went to conquer a mountain and got beaten up by a fluffy grass eating sheep.


We quickly started to ascend the mountain and soon became surrounded by mist. The path was very easy to follow and we regularly consulted my map and compass to ensure we were on the right route. Our first point of real excitement, with the exception of the sheep, came as we had to cross the mountain river. I was pleased with myself after crossing the river relatively easily with a hop, skip and a jump. I’m usually guaranteed to fall over when it comes to anything such as this. To my surprise it was I who was waiting for Sam! Sam attempted a number of routes but was scuppered by his own short legs. This was a rare occasion, it made me laugh. 10 minutes later Sam navigated the river successfully only to fall flat on his backside whilst walking towards me. At this point it really was like we had swapped roles. Jokes aside it was a pretty bad fall but fortunately for Sam resulted in no more than a few bruises.

We continued up the extremely steep path where I was grateful for the extra fitness I had gained over the previous two months. I had been running every other night. That said, the ascent was punishing and Sam continued to cope much better than I, although even he admitted he was pleased to have frequent rests. Before we knew it we came to a break in the path. To the left was the slow, steady and relatively boring path to the top. To the right was a hands and knees scramble to the top through a gully. Up until the day of the walk I had been experiencing some serious knee pain and my immediate thought was that risking damaging my knee on the scramble would be reckless. We had hoped to be able to see what both options looked like but the mist put a stop to that. We reluctantly agreed to take the long winding path and set off that way. Minutes later as we were on our slow and long path to the top the sky cleared. We got a fantastic view of the scramble up Mickledore Ridge and the sight of it was too much to resist. We immediately changed our course. As quick as the skies cleared the mist returned and we were back in next to zero visibility.


Upon arrival at the gully we realised the scramble, whilst exciting, wasn’t particularly challenging and as such we both swiftly ascended it to the ridge. On the ridge we knew we weren’t far from the summit, maybe 30 minutes. The OS map referred to a nice straight path all the way but we soon realised this path no longer existed. In it’s place was a winding path marked out every 10 meters or so with small cairns. The difference from the route described on the map was quite staggering and as such it rendered the map useless. We continued to follow the cairns and eventually reached the summit, only to find it populated with about 20 people singing camps songs. A disappointment indeed.

We quickly scoffed some Mars bars and took some photos before heading back. We decided to take the path down rather than the scramble as we met people coming down the gully which seemed to prove much more difficult. Without an obvious path we followed a bearing hoping to come off the mountain on a) the right side and b) the right path. We did.



The route back was fairly easy going on the lungs but the rocks and stones made it punishing on the feet and ankles. No problems to report on the knee though. Good news. We descended the route with relative ease and within sight of the car I was pleased to have nearly finished the hike without a slip, trip or fall. Of course I then fell flat on my back twisting my already injured knee. I didn’t appear to have done any major damage so we continued on back to the car.

My relatively newfound fitness had paid off. I didn’t feel anything like I did on Snowdon. Tired yes, but exhausted no. That night saw us return to the pub for some well deserved food and drink before heading back to the flats of Cambridgeshire the next day. 

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