Open Writing

As for equipment, I had all that already. Walking boots (above ankle), waterproof jacket, waterproof over-trousers (they think it might rain), hats and gloves (they don't believe in global warming), sun hat (they do believe in global warming), head torch (they're expecting an eclipse), clothing (I thought I might need that) - base layer (to wick away moisture), second layer (to trap the maximum amount of air), third layer (sounds like a battery hen) - to keep water out, keep the heat in and allow water vapour (do they mean sweat?) to escape, compass, high energy emergency food, note book and pencil (why? Is this to allow us to write final messages to our loved ones in the same way as Captain Scott?), maps, whistle (there they go with that bloody whistling again), spare batteries (for the pace-maker?), water bottle, compeed/plasters, first aid kit and a back pack to put it all in (shouldn't I be wearing some of it?).

*

I said my goodbyes to Tom and Don and I would not see them again until the following evening as I was making for Ennerdale Bridge whereas the other five were staying that night at a camping barn at Kinniside, a mile or so short of Ennerdale Bridge. As there is no hostel in Ennerdale Bridge, Tom had chosen the camping barn as being the nearest uncomfortable alternative, but had taken the trouble to find a B&B for me.

Because he knew we would not all be together the whole of the time, he had also provided directions for everyone for occasions like this and in case any of us wanted to walk at our own pace. Nothing was too much trouble for him.

I walked up through the forest and out on to the open fell and, although the summit of Dent is only 1131 feet, it was quite a stiff climb and it was not long before I began wishing that I had gone with the other two. Perhaps it wasn't just the condition of Tom's knees that had prompted him to choose an alternative route, after all.

As I climbed, Joe soon came into view ahead of me and I was surprised to see that he was on his own but it was apparent that he had a problem as he was struggling up the hill, stopping every few paces. When I caught up with him, he explained that he was suffering from cramp (perhaps my first impression had not been wrong then) and that Andy was ahead of him somewhere, but Paul had missed a turning in the forest and had gone the wrong way. Unfortunately, he had been too far ahead to hear them calling him back.

As our leader had told us that this was one of the easier days, the fact that Joe had cramp bothered me. How was he going to cope on the tougher days? I carried on up the incline and caught up with Andy as we reached the summit simultaneously and he explained that the pain from his blisters was so intense that he had felt unable to wait for Joe, as he needed to maintain what little momentum he had. It was becoming apparent that the blisters were more serious than his more usual (imaginary) complaints.
The view from the summit was magnificent and I had to remind myself that the elevation was only 1131 feet but, bearing in mind that our starting point that morning was actual sea level, we deserved the reward. The coastal plain was behind us now and the Lake District stretched out before us, three days of wonderful walking and it looked as though we were going to be lucky with the weather.

Andy decided to rest at the summit and wait for his pal, Joe, so I left him as I began my descent of Dent and I thought what a strange group we were. Things were not looking good. This was only the first day and Paul was already lost, Andy was suffering from blisters, Joe was suffering from cramp, Don was suffering from the weight of his pack (and a bad temper) and Tom was suffering from creaking knees. At that point, only Don and Tom were together and the rest of us were walking individually. This was not what I had anticipated at all and I wondered whether it was possible that we would all reach Robin Hood's Bay in twelve days time.

As I descended the steep grassy path from Dent under the burning sun, I noticed a sharp discomfort in my big toe and thought I might be developing a blister of my own. However, I knew this could not be possible, as I was wearing the pair of 2000 mile socks (guaranteed to keep wearers blister-free), which a friend had bought for my sixtieth birthday a couple of weeks earlier, so I dismissed the thought from my mind.

I wouldn't see the others until the following evening as I had the extra mile or so to walk to my B&B and because I hoped to take a slightly different route to them the next day. I wanted to take the more strenuous high route to Borrowdale, whereas the others had opted for the easier low route. What a good job I had been concentrating all my efforts on carbo-loading!