Gazing out at the glorious views of Lakeland from the summit of Great Rigg I feel a little melancholic. This is my first mountain summit since turning sixty. I remember well my first trip to the Lake District. In 1983, aged twenty one, a mate and I drove over from Yorkshire where I was stationed at the time. We were with a couple of girls we fancied in a very old VW Beetle owned by one the girls. We walked around Keswick before heading up to Watendlath for a dip in the tarn and then a walk up High Tove. On the way back to Yorkshire the Beetle broke down several times and had to be coaxed back to life with a bit of WD40. When you’re 21 thinking about being 60, well you may as well be thinking about being dead. But here I am, very much alive, still climbing hills 39 years later.
Continue reading “Great Rigg, Heron Pike and Nab Scar”
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