The best days are never planned

The weather forecast wasn’t great but I decided to go ahead with my planned trip to the Lakes with the most hardy of my friends, the others having bailed out.

Friday night was wet and windy and the bad weather continued into Sat morning. I decided that I would make the most of the poor weather and have a relaxing chilled-out day. So I had a lovely lazy lie in my tent listening to the sound of the pitter patter of rain on my tent and the wind howling through the trees and a nice long natter with my friend Chrissie. At lunchtime we headed into Keswick and had a tasty bowl of veg chilli and a wander round the shops so I could buy some new maps.

Later in the afternoon the weather looked like it was clearing up a bit and I was feeling relaxed to the max so I suggested to the others that we head back so that I could fulfill my sudden desire to run up up Scafell. I persuaded my friend Miles to come with me while the others made the most of the brief weather window and went climbing.

Miles set off up the hill like a bat out of hell, so I was momentarily concerned that I might have to sprint all the way to the top. Fortunately he quickly settled down to a more gentle pace, I enjoyed the hike up onto Great End and from there it’s a superb run across the tops to Scafell. The views of the Eastern Lake district and down into Wasdale were stunning but they always are. It was chilly and daylight was running out, so we didn’t linger at the top and headed back down the corridor route via Styhead tarn and down into Seathwaite. The descent was awesome fun and we were soon back at the campsite for a quick shower before heading to the pub.

I was just in the pub enjoying a delicious post run meal and half a pint when our other friends came in. I was somewhat surprised when Ian asked me if I wanted to go and climb Little Chamonix by head torch after dinner, but not as surprised as he was when I said yes!

It sounded like a fun adventure, so after we had eaten, and I had ordered extra sticky toffy pudding to keep me warm, I grabbed all my layers and my climbing kit and we headed down to Shepherd’s Crag.

On arrival at the crag, Ian realised that he had left some of the gear at the campsite. So just to make it extra tricky we were now about to attempt a route in the dark with half a rack! It felt quite surreal gearing up by head torch at the base of the route. It was now really still so there was a bit of the eyrie echo that you get at night. I was leading first so I set off gingerly up the first pitch feeling really intimidated by the dark, avoiding all the slugs and centipedes which seemed to have crawled out of the cliff in the dark and provided an extra hazard. I arrived relieved at the first belay and Ian followed up and set off to lead the last two pitches.

Belaying in the dark was great, because the mountains look beautiful at night and it was lovely to be able to stare out from my vantage point at the jagged mountain silhouettes across the valley, and the black shimmer of the lake, whilst listening to the peaceful silence. Seconding in the dark was great fun too, it felt adventurous but totally safe. The coolest moment was a few metres from the top I turned my torch off and when I looked down below me all I could see was blackness with the silhouettes of the crag and the trees way below.

We felt a few spots of rain, so decided that we should get back quickly so that the others didn’t worry. I scrambled along the path at the top of the crag carefully with Ian just behind me, until I turned around and realised that he was no longer in sight. I decided it was best to wait for Ian, as the path was tricky in the dark, so I thought that we should stick together. After I’d waited a few minutes I started to get worried as he had been just behind me, so I shouted out for him but no reply, one more shout at the top of my voice and still no reply. I couldn’t understand it, he was just behind me and I would have heard him shout if he had slipped. There was only one remaining explanation someone or something had got to Ian….

I resisted all temptation to desert Ian and peg it down to the car as fast as I could. So with great trepidation, and feeling very petrified I set off back along the path to look for him. I tiptoed back along the path as quietly as I could, getting more and more scared the further I went.

Then I spotted a branch off the path heading down a gully, and as I shone my headtorch down it I saw Ian disappearing at the bottom. Phew, Ian had just gone down a different way, so I set off down after him and caught up with him back at the bags.

But what a brilliant and fun day, with lots of unexpected adventures!