A HARD DAY ON THE HOWGILLS

I’ve never been a great fan of the Howgills. There is however an undeniable sense of solitude to be found here, particularly on a hot day when the more popular Lakeland fells are crawling with punters. It was perhaps hotter than we anticipated however, and for some reason, the magnitude of the route planned only really dawned on me the night before.

In fact things were going wrong before we even set foot on the first climb. A mild dose of food poisoning ensured an uncomfortable start and it went from bad to worse. By the time the eastern tops had been ticked off, I was suffering with severe dehydration, nausea and a total absence of motivation. By the time the northern tops had been reigned in, I was ready to quit. But then Langdale Knott is about as far from the start as the route gets, so options were decidedly limited.

The climb to Middleton was brutal but eventually I dragged myself behind those made of sterner stuff, to The Calf, where, as we rested, debating the next step, a man strode into view wearing nothing but his boots and a pair of Y-fronts. Unsure if I was hallucinating or having a nightmare, we pushed on though I called it a day soon after, leaving my companions at Great Drummacks and taking the steep drop toward Cross Keys.

Of the 39 named tops of 400m or more, I’d covered just 22. I can’t say I’m in hurry to go back but then again, it’s been niggling away for too long now. Perhaps it’s time to put The Howgills to bed.