Climbing Scafell Pike – Lake District Pt 2

Day 4. 5:45am.

Good morning from Low Wray Campsite. No filters. Pure beauty. I hadn’t planned to be up this early, but what a treat.

We had aimed to be at Scafell Pike for 8am but in true T.W.A.T.S. fashion we messed up and arrived at Wast Water over an hour late. I drove there and the drive was glorious. The scenery spectacular. I was initially worried about driving down rough single track roads but it was heavenly! Arriving at Wast Water it reminded me of Iceland (the country, not the shop). We got out to take pretty photos with Scafell just around 5 minutes away, looming through the clouds.

We parked up at the National Trust car park and checked out the summit conditions. Rain was predicted to hit at around 2pm; with it turning to snow at around 4pm. Joel was well and truly unenthused. Although we had been shopping for him the day before, Joel was still going up in jeans. I was more prepared: trekking/hiking boots, long johns, water resistant trousers, a running top, my Man City top, some gloves and my new coat-fleece combo and bandana. And a compass. Oh, and some sunglasses – cos one can dream.

AND SO at approximately 10am, we set off up England’s highest peak. Twas a cool morning – perfect hiking conditions. If we did it in good time, we would avoid the worst of the weather.

Here’s a common occurrence on these T.W.A.T.S. trips: I pull ahead at the early inclines. Why? Because my team members ALWAYS don too many layers cos it’s cold, and then predictably have to stop for a kit change. SORT IT OUT BOYS.

40 minutes in and we arrived at the first major checkpoint: the river. Looked more like a brook to me tbh. Nevertheless it needed traversing, carefully, as the water was very cold. I’ve always wanted to fill my water bottle at a place like this, and feel all Bear Grylls, but it probably wasn’t wise. We all made it across without falling in.

When you’re up high, films always tell you “don’t look down” but every now and then it was really nice to do that. With every step up, the view back was more impressive. It was just a shame that the sky was grey – every time T.W.A.T.S. does an event, the weather is dull at best, horrific at worst. The theme would continue…

11am. Time for a sandwich break. Let me remind you that we are not the fittest of folk – proven by the fact that in just 20 minutes, we were resting again as we reached Hollow Stones.

Joel and I waited for Brendan on the relatively comfy rocks. Hollow Stones is the second checkpoint because the path splits into two – with the right hand path taking you a steeper, more difficult and dangerous route to the top. As we are very inexperienced and the weather was poor, we were to head left and stick to the main path. I could hear the ghostly cry of a raven echoing of the mountain walls, eerie and wild. Love it.

We carried on. Me out front as usual with Brendan once again the slowest member thanks to all the photography gear in his bag. Brendan and Joel were sharing the load by taking turns to carry it, until a point where they demanded I give them my “light rucksack” and take the camera bag. OK. Fair enough. I wasn’t particularly happy about it until I put it on and we all realised that my bag was heaviest. We soon swapped back!

Even though we were climbing to meet them, the clouds descended a little to envelop us, and we knew they were not going to budge. Any hopes of being able to see anything from the summit evaporated. Soon, the cloud got so thick we could barely see what lay 10ft ahead.

At just after 12:50, we arrived at the top. Being a weekday with poor conditions, it was devoid of crowds but the folk at the top were all welcoming and jolly – and with good reason – we’ve all just climbed England’s highest mountain!

Obligatory summit photo. What a bunch of heroes. The Walking And Talking Society’s greatest achievement to date! However, there was no time to hang around. What felt like 10 minutes was actually almost an hour of time spent at the summit, and the weather was about to turn. We didn’t fancy getting snowed on and as soon as we started to walk away from the cairn, raindrops started to hit us.

The descent was horrible. Personally, I prefer climbing up than climbing down, especially when the path is strewn with large rocks. Usually, I never stumble on a hike, but today was different. I just kept tripping on rocks, and ended up on the floor a few times. I was lucky not to break an ankle! And I was lagging behind the others. Brendan was descending like a mountain goat as he always does and Joel was not far behind him. I just couldn’t keep up the pace.

Now it was properly raining. My water resistant clothing was saturated and now rain was seeping through to my long johns and boxers. It’s not a nice feeling. Nor is tripping over once again. My knees were starting to hurt now as the steps down were relatively big ones. My calf muscles had turned to jelly – if I stopped, the spasms almost toppled me. I kinda figured that my walking pole, that had so helped me on my ascent, was hindering me on my descent. I felt like I was relying on it too much and not focusing on my balance. I put it away and I actually felt better – more in control of where my feet were being placed. I don’t know if that’s the way you should descend, but it works for me!

At around 2:30pm, Wast Water started to peek through the clouds; a very welcome sight. We crossed the brook which was running a tad quicker. The stepping stones were obviously a more difficult obstacle now that they were slippy but we managed to get across again without falling in!

And at 3:10pm, we hit level ground. I’d never been so happy to see my little Corsa! I was drenched from the waist down, but my new coat was brilliant as my fleece inside was pretty much dry. Well happy. I’d even packed a spare pair of jeans to get into, but being the hero that I am, I let Joel have them. He was in a saturated pair of jeans, after all. We whacked the heaters up to maximum and drove up the road to The Wasdale Head Inn.

In the toilets we changed into drier clothes. I hadn’t expected to get SO wet, so I had to remain in wet boxer shorts. Good one, David.

I’ve waited a long time to visit this pub. When I was younger, I used to find it on Google street view. I love how it’s so isolated – a beacon of warmth beneath wild mountains. When I visit a new pub, I always try and buy the house ale, and I was happy to see The Wasdale Head Inn had their own.

It pains me to say, that this was one of the worst ales I’ve ever tried. Flat. Bland. A chore to drink. Sorry.

Excuse the blurriness. My excuse is that I’d just been up Scafell Pike in the rain and I was cold. Got a prob wid dat?

The ale was disgusting. The steak and ale pie was unbelievable. Honestly one of the best I’ve ever had. Hearty, warming, delicious. The home-cooked chips that came with it were unreal. I cannot recommend it enough.

And so, it was time to return to Low Wray campsite. We were all tired, but of course, I had to drive. As soon as we got in the car and the heating kicked in, my two comrades honestly fell asleep within seconds of one another. Bastards. My revenge was to wait for a clear bit of straight road, brake, and scream. That woke them up. It worked perfectly – I nearly had to pull over – it was so funny. They didn’t find it funny and went back to sleep. Don’t try this at home, kids.

After around two hours, I got us safely back to the campsite. I didn’t get lost that much either, which was very good as I’d decided to try and not use a satnav on the way back – like they did in the old days! All our phones were plugged in for revival and Joel played some tunes on his guitar, in preparation for tonight’s open mic.

After a few hours rest and with phones recharged, we headed to The Unicorn in Ambleside. Brendan drove, which meant I could try some Unicorn Black – a very delicious stout!

The open mic was being run by Brian May.

Eventually, Brian stopped singing and Joel got up and smashed it of course. He sold a few CDs to some southerners and some foreigners so he was happy. Brendan wasn’t happy cos he had to drive us back and he wanted more stout. After Joel’s encore we headed back, well and truly conked.

The next day we packed up and headed home. And that’s that! My first lads’ holiday completed. You can keep your Ibiza, you can keep your Ayia Napa. I’m content with Ambleside.

 

THE END. Again, apologies for the lateness! On these days, I logged my adventures on my Instagram story (Dabanksy – #VidOnTour). The video is available here:

 

Brendan Clayton Photography: https://www.brendanclaytonphotography.com/