March 28, 2023 2 min read
Fuelled by two cappuccinos and a generous flapjack from Threlkeld Coffee shop I parked up at Grisedale and headed off into the woods. After a bit of circling around wondering where exactly the fells were I emerged into the sunshine and headed up up and up to Grisedale Pike, by what one Twitter comment suggested was the ‘worst way possible’. Undeterred I headed on to a very pleasant Grasmoor then Wanhope, the lovely trod traverse to Sail, back to Eel Crag (and lunch – two gels – yuck).
With it being February daylight was at a premium and I wondered if a return was
now needed but I was tempted onto Hopegill Head. Anyone who has been to the summit of Hopegill will know exactly the problem I now faced, the ridge to Whiteside is just divine. I calculated daylight, added in a bit of ‘I always get lost’, tightened my daps and headed west into the setting sun. It’s only a short twenty minutes across to Whiteside West, I did the selfie thing and started to retrace my steps to Hopegill, then back over Hobcarton Crag to re-join my line of ascent of Grisedale.
After the stinging trolling from the morning I tracked back down Sleet How instead and dropped into the woods. It was dusk now as I wiggled around a bit until, as if by magic, or innate navigation skills somewhere deep in my DNA, I round the car (coincidence more like). 11 Tops including 7 classic Wainwrights, what a beautiful day, washed down with a couple of pints of Jennings.
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