As I write this blog, a full five days post Helvellyn, my calf muscles still feel like they're going to snap. Stairs are my enemy. Up or down. Either is torture.
Having said that, I'm still on a high. As high as the mountain I climbed. It was fully worth the pain.
We parked by Thirlmere, noting that the cold weather had teamed with the sunshine to provide the most perfect mood (and sky). I was excited. This was the first real 'hike' since Duke of Edinburgh 1996. Or at least what felt like the first real personal physical challenge post-teen.
It was 'busy' as expected being the 2nd Jan. New Year's ressies and all that. But I didn't mind as much as my partner - who is much more of a more 'seasoned' professional. He, who had packed properly. He, who was definitely in charge of the backpack and it's contents. He, who knew how to get to the top. Me, on the other hand...well, it was just me and my 'c'est la vie' attitude that would get me nowhere in harsh conditions. No back-up phone, no waterproof, no clue. But two pairs of trousers on at least, and a brand new thermal vest - which had been click-bought via Amazon Prime the week before in a feeble attempt to begin to tick off my non existent walker's kit list.
There are no real 'corners' to turn on Helvellyn. Just a slow, steady, steep climb. The atmosphere amongst fellow walkers was one of relaxed pleasure and shared gratification. It gets more urgent the higher up you go.
It took just over 2 hours before we became part of the 'in crowd' near the top, passing people on their way back down. Full of joy and exhilaration and stories of strong winds and snow. Stirring something up inside me. Making me feel impatient to get to the top.
It felt like another world. Narnia. Wonderland. A fantasy world. On top of the world. Snow crunching under foot, gusts of wind, cold noses, views for miles...the third-highest point in England.
I've literally never seen anything like it in my life. It felt unreal. Even more so when a handful of young men rode past on bikes. How and why?
I watched a young lad begin to set up with a pair of ice axes ready to lower himself back down the side. Another family literally disappeared over a ridge on foot within seconds. We glanced fearfully over at Striding and Swirrel edge.
It was seriously beautiful. Quiet and sinister too. I vowed to go back in the summer. I want to know what it looks like in a different light.
Returning back killed me off. I felt dizzy and tired. We stopped for five minutes to eat but we both felt keen to complete the trek because we had a wild dip in Grasmere to make room for.
Arriving back at the car we had time for a quick coffee before we set off around the lake looking for a good entry point. The sun would be setting soon and with the temperature dipping we quickly agreed upon an ok location for changing and entering the freeze fest.
The water appeared pretty clear and the dip was achieved in the briefest and most efficient of manners with the pink sunlight disappearing behind the backdrop of the hills beyond.
It's the first time we have combined a hike and a swim in one day. the first of many more for sure.
Eastern Shore, Grasmere
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