Success of sorts

After a 5km slog across a very wet Eskdale we made it to our destination, the foot of the valley that, on a clear day, has a direct view of Scafell Pike. However it was a remarkable sight for all the wrong reasons.

As we approached the valley we were following the road around a jagged peak called Hare Crag on our left. The other side of this peak was the valley. On our right was Harter Fell at 653m, a fell that has so much more character than the simple dome-like structure hinted at by the map. Harter Fell is the most prominent feature for a long time before the valley. A short break in the rain at this point brought some more light and all the colour of the mountains. It was like someone had just turned on the light and we rushed to take out our cameras from our waterproof bags. At last we could see what everyone was going on about: Eskdale really is beautiful. However as soon as I'd got my camera out the clouds had returned and so had the rain. I put my camera away cursing the weather.

As we turned the corner round Hare Crag and eventually reached the valley proper we could see that the cloud that had arrived had not come alone. The entire valley was swamped with a thick white fog. In the distance, through the fog, we could see the winding road of Hardknot Pass, a series of jagged hairpins through which car headlamps were passing very slowly (yet it was about 1pm and normally peak sunshine). The incline was so severe we could see the roofs of the cars even though they were at much greater altitude.

The clouds round here seem to come alive. And they follow a seemingly predictable pattern. Huge dark clouds slowly drift over Ravenglass and as they reach the fells they hit the mountains, condense, and wrap each peak in a ring of fog.

We pondered with the map at the foot of the valley wondering if we could see Scafell Pike. Up the road ahead of us came a party of walkers. I asked one of them if a large peak in the distance was Scafell Pike. He explained that the Pike was further back and obscured by fog. They had all given up as they saw the clouds descending so fast they were worried they would get lost if they went further. They warned us back.

We walked on about 200m more and looked directly in the direction of Scafell Pike. It was pure white. Nothing else could be seen. However we had achieved in some way what we set out to do, to look upon the face of Scafell Pike. We certainly did that but obviously a few kilometers of water vapour were in the way. We had to settle for this compromise and head back. Remarkably, what had taken 3 hours across bog and slippery river crossings took only an hour by the main road.