At the end of September I went on a “training” weekend to the Lake District (I’ll call it training as it lends an air of legitimacy).
I had one mate, Darren, travelling up from Essex with me with another, Paul, meeting us up there on the Friday evening which would be the first time we had been out on the hills together since Snowdon the year before and with plans to do Scafell Pike there was already murmurings of going up to Ben Nevis next year!
Darren and I had set an ambitious goal based on the Mosedale Horseshoe for Friday, it was a cracking day in spectacular weather where after the shelter and heat of the valley we were grateful for the cool breeze that met us at the top of the pass.
Days like this always feel like a bonus as they’re so unexpected at this time of the year especially as I love the contrast of the blue sky against the rust coloured, bracken covered slopes.
Looking up the Mosedale Valley towards Pillar.
Friday evening was spent thrashing out the plan for Saturday, helped by a bottle (or two) of single malt. Whilst good scotch is always welcome, I’m not convinced it’s the best of planning aids as despite discussing all the options we headed to our tents with a plan that seemed to be little more than “Up there, over there and down there” (which roughly translated to Lingmell, Scafell Pike and Scafell)!
“Up there, over there and down there”,
The view from Pillar towards Scafell Pike, Scafell and Lingmell.
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