I'd arrived at the summit a little earlier than planned, and it was wild, windy, cold, and getting colder...
Pitching the tent was the first priority, and I hid behind every little mound just off the summit, convincing myself that yes, this was calmer than the last!
Soon I just pitched where I was.
I say pitched like this was a straightforward operation. There may have been some pretence of flying a kite, and possibly some rudimentary utterings, but eventually I pinned the damn thing to the ground and threw my bag in.
The sun had coyly parked itself behind a large cloud above Skiddaw, draining all colour from the scene, but the small gap beneath it gave me hope that something good would happen once it sunk lower.
Indeed it did, and once the sun burst out from beneath the cloud, the scene lifted itself with dusky purple hues, allowing me to fire off a few shots before retreating to the tent for a rather chilly night (there was a nice layer of ice on it next morning.) April 2011.
