Clockwise Edale Skyline in January was a choice. 31.6 km, 1,306 m, 3°C (feels like -4), five hours of fog and savage wind with no views until km 20. Hope Station to Lose Hill wasn’t a warm-up, the Lose Hill trig was being hogged, Brown Knoll was bog theatre, and Kinder Low tried to exfoliate my face. Somehow it turned into a PR by 3 minutes. Unplanned. Unhinged. Loved it.

Six months earlier, I booked a place above a pub. When I arrived, I realised I hadn’t booked a room but the entire second floor of a 17th-century pub. Alone. After very little sleep, I set off at 07:20 on an endurance round that depended on a bus timetable I thought I’d researched properly. The day brought brutal wind, poor decisions, unsettling surprises, and a finish that nearly left me seven miles from my car. Somewhere in all that, I climbed 17 peaks.

A violent-wind, bright-sky day in the Peak District ticking off four new Ethels: Mt Famine, South Head, Eccles Pike and Chinley Churn. A route from Hayfield with cow stand-offs, Highland cows, an overgrown “path”, a missing trig ripped out by a farmer, and a winter-grade wind that felt more like February than late October. Finished cold, feral and satisfied. Still convinced the Peak District is my endurance training ground and still full of surprises.

A perfect Wasdale morning turned into one of my most memorable hikes yet. I abandoned my 9 km plan within minutes, wandered to Burnmoor Tarn in total silence, faced down two herds of cows 🐄🙈, and climbed Slight Side & Scafell. By pure chance, four of us hit our 213th Wainwright together 🤯. Sunshine, summit banter, and spooky coincidences made it feel like destiny. Some hikes tick boxes but this one made memories. 💚

Trip #8 of 2025 took me back to Wasdale, my favourite valley, for a solo climb of Yewbarrow. From the steep grassy nose that everyone says is horrible (I enjoyed it), to the scramble at Great Door, to the easy grassy ridge, the fell felt like a compact adventure. The real surprise was Stirrup Crag - a descent that looked fine from above but delivered two airy downclimbs. Calm in the moment, reflective afterwards, Yewbarrow proved that small fells can pack big drama.

I’ve never walked 50km on flat terrain. So I signed up to do it on 15 Welsh summits, with 4,000m of ascent, in 24 hours, starting at 2:50 AM, with strangers, in a country famous for sideways rain. Also, I paid for it. This post contains overthinking, knee brace diplomacy, and tuna pasta pot logistics.