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I like to get to the summit of Great Gable on a regular basis, say every two years, to spend a little time at the place where my father's ashes were placed in 2001. It’s better still if I can reach the top before the crowds. So, on the strength of a good regional weather forecast, I set off for the Lakes on Friday afternoon and pitched my tent at Chapel House Farm, Stonethwaite. I set the alarm for 5:30am and took an early night in eager anticipation of sunny skies and fantastic views. I suspected something was not quite right when I got up and there was no dew on the grass, I could see a couple of well known constellations through a broken cloudscape, but there was clearly low cloud, or hill fog on some of the surrounding hills. I was off by 6am and took the tarmac route to Seathwaite and then up Sour Milk Gill before taking the direct route up Base Brown. It was obvious by now that the local weather did not match the regional forecast with low wispy clouds all around. Sunlight briefly burst out over Glaramara and I made my way towards Green Gable. I was in the clouds on both GG's and didn't find any more views until I was 200ft or so above the stretcher box. I followed cairns to the top of Great Gable and met another lost soul on what we believed to be the top. He was not particularly well equipped with a map in a Sainsbury's bag and no other luggage at all. He wandered off into the mist, aiming unaided by any navigational tools for Kirk Fell "It's over there, I think" I heard him say, as he disappeared vaguely westwards. I went in search of the area where the ashes were placed, but couldn’t find it. I managed to find my way back to the top in visibility worse than that we had on Scafell Pike, 3 weeks earlier. From here though, I was uncertain and for the first time in donkey's years I got my compass out. Admittedly, a compass is of limited use if you don't know precisely where you are to start with, but I took a SE bearing and found a cairned path that, fortunately, led to Sty Head. I was not alone up there, I spoke to my dad and messages came back to me. However these were text messages, most welcome but nothing supernatural. At Sty Head I encountered a 22 strong mass of summit baggers. The leader, dressed in a tight white, look-at-my-muscles, sports shirt was armed with a "Wainwright's TV Walks" book. They asked a proper fellwalker if he knew the way to Scafell Pike and this fellow lifted his head from his butty box and pointed in the right direction. I watched from the rock behind the stretcher box as they missed the path for the Corridor Route, map-less, muscle man saying that he could see Piers Gill and they had to keep to the left of it - this was, of course, Skew Gill. They were headed for, at best, Esk Hause. I caught up with the last man at Sprinkling Tarn, he was taking photos with his phone of the tarn. "How far is it to the top?" enquired this straggler in a deep Midlands accent. "It depends on where you're going" was my retort and it was apparent that he was only aware of one mountain in the LD. I asked him if he knew the way, he didn't and the rest were out of sight. He boasted that they had all climbed two other mountains recently, Ben Nevis and Snowdon. I escorted him to the point at which my path, to Allen Crags, goes off SE and sent him to Esk Hause told him to turn right (westwards to you and I). If these were football managers, they'd be charged with bringing the game into disrepute. Anyway, I took lunch on a cloud-free Allen Crags and proceeded in bright sunny weather along to Glaramara. I noticed that Great Gable remained in cloud for much of the early afternoon, but I suspect it cleared later on. On the way down Glaramara, I passed a family heading upwards. I heard an enthusiastic young boy, maybe 5 years old, ask his dad if they were going as high as the moon! "No, not quite" came dad's reply "but we'll be as high as some aeroplanes". Mind your heads! Early starts have their rewards, I value highly the rare commodities of space and time and both are at your disposal if you get out of your sleeping bag early enough. My first hello was to that stranger on top of Great Gable, three and a half hours after setting out.
A full set of photographs is available at http://www.flickr.com/photos/richardrat/sets/72157607551547692/
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