Sca Fell Climbed Today – Slowly but Surely

Another beautiful morning. I awoke with great pains and strains in my legs after yesterday’s efforts. I reckon I did 12 miles but I didn’t set my garmin wristwatch right that the family bought me for my birthday so it’s an educated guess. BSc(Econ) with honours. Douglas Hurd. The pain came from the up and down rather than the along.

Today’s goal is the second highest mountain in England, Sca Fell, and from here it’s a bugger to get to when your legs are aching. But then again I’m here and up for it. A reyt good breakfast. He ate all the toast, he ate all the toast, big fat baastad, big fat baastad, he ate all the toast. Ha! Well then simpletons. I’ve lost 12lbs in three weeks so best see the new me before slinging mud.

I set off just before 10am, taking it steady and deliberately today. The route would take me up the hillside opposite the Inn and then round it into the valley leading up to Scafell Pike and Scafell.

Looking down the valley it was lovely but cold. Going up, the hill was still in the shade up the Scafell valley.

It was a long slog up to a landbridge between Scafell Pike and Scafell, which I had to climb over to get to Scafell peak. I managed it but it was a bit dodgy. And looking back down the valley from the top was great.

And looking forward, apologies for the over-exposure.

I had to drop down a couple of hundred feet into this valley to find a climbing route up to the Sca Fell summit. I couldn’t find the route but luckily from out of nowhere sprang Geoff in his green boiler suit.

Geoff showed me the way to the gully I had to climb up. It was frickin scary. He stayed at the bottom whilst I climbed up to the next safe step. He was from Lancashire and might have been waiting to rob the fallen body of any valuables. Only kidding Geoff.

I don’t know if you can see him, he’s just a tiny splash of green and red at the bottom of this gully, which is a measure of the height of this climb.

At the top was Foxes Tarn, a small puddle in a big, natural amphitheatre just a quarter of a mile from the summit.

The sides were steep again and part way up the view down and around was amazing.

And then, finally after nearly four hours of climbing, I made it to the summit.

The views from the top were great.

And after a rest in the sun, which had warmed up the air considerably, I was ready to set off back to Base Camp, down the western side of the mountain. And it was chuffing murder. Wobbling down through loose scree and boulders, which tore holes in my boots. The scree went on and on. But the views were amazing.

In the end I made it down in three hours, and my legs were like jelly from the wobbling rocks and the bogland below, which seeped through the holes in my boots. Looking back the boulders looked innocuous, but it was bigger and far steeper than it seems.

I came upon another amazing view. Have you ever seen a pile of turd as big as this? I think we should put it in an identity parade with five others and get the Queen Mother to sniff them to identify the culprit. Thanks Pete.

Eventually the Inn rode over the horizon. Hooray!

Eight miles today and it took eight hours. Tough, tough going. Early night tonight to get ready for the journey to Great Langdale tomorrow. Alright my darlings.

Night night.