🏔️ Edale Skyline: The Day I Outran Myself

bootsandbanter
Oct 13
7 min read

Fog, Sunlight, and the Space Between Doubt and Belief

Date: 12 October 2025

📍Route: Hope → Lose Hill → Back Tor → Mam Tor → Rushup Edge → Brown Knoll → Kinder Low → Woolpacks → Crowden Rocks → Ringing Roger → Crockstone Out Moor → Hope Cross → Win Hill → Hope

📏Distance: 32.4 km

⬆️Ascent: 1,134 m

⌛Time: 6 h 58 m 36 s

Weather: Crisp start at 5°C with thick fog, clearing into full sunshine and total calm — no wind, no clag, just magic.

Mood: Grounded, calm, and quietly determined. Started with zero expectations, finished buzzing beyond belief. 💚

Everywhere you read about the Skyline, it’s described as an 8–10 hour challenge, so I aimed for the lower end — around 8 hours, 45 minutes quicker than my usual pace.

Follow for more 📸

🌫️ 1. The Fog, the Drive, the Instinct

No alarm — just instinct.

I woke up before six, wide awake in the dark, as if my body already knew something big was about to happen. By 6:50 I was in the car, heading north through ghostly fog thick enough to eat the headlights. That cleared on M1.

Then again in the Peaks the world was unrecognisable — just outlines, shadows, and moisture filled air. Hope, Hathersage… all smothered. I kept thinking, if this fog doesn’t lift, it’s going to be a day of walking through a horror movie.

But there was a strange calm in it too. That still, eerie quiet before something memorable.

I arrived in Hope just after 8:00. It was cold — 5°C — and I stood there in my hoody and vest, debating whether to layer up. I brought my fav 10 litre Montane (scarily small for a big hike). Couldn’t be bothered to dig out the jacket at the bottom. So, I did the next logical thing: shivering, fog all around, and instead of layering up, I am like nah, let’s just hike faster. 🥶

⛰️ 2. Lose Hill and the Climb Through the Clouds

The first climb from Hope hits hard — straight up, no warm-up, no mercy.

But I was moving like a machine. Within ten minutes I was sweating. The fog around me was dense, thick as cream, and I kept looking up, hoping to see where it broke.

Halfway up, I could feel my body boiling — I stripped off the hoody, now just in a vest at 5°C. That has never happened before. 😂 Truth be told my bare arms were freezing, but I couldn’t stop — I was chasing the sunlight I knew was waiting somewhere above.

And then — magic.

The mist started to thin, light shimmered through, and I climbed out into the most breath-taking cloud inversion I’ve ever seen.

The entire valley was a sea of white. Peaks poking out like islands. The sun blazing gold above it.

I reached Lose Hill in 56 minutes, heart racing, face cold, and soul on fire. I just stood there smiling.

This — this was why I came.

I hung around for 4–5 minutes, took a hundred photos and videos, then forced myself to move on.

☀️ 3. Ridge to Mam Tor — The Calm Above

The Great Ridge was bathed in sunlight. Fog was still low over the valleys. The air was cool, perfectly still — no wind at all.

I chatted briefly to two young women just below Back Tor (because, of course 😂), but for once, it was short — maybe five minutes tops — and then I was back in motion.

I reached Mam Tor in 1 hour 45 minutes. That place is always busy. Didn’t hang around much. Everything about that climb felt peaceful. No pressure, no overthinking. I told myself, eight hours would be a great day.

I didn’t know then that I was quietly setting myself up for something far bigger.

🌄 4. Rushup Edge & the Rhythm of Flow

Rushup Edge was effortless — one of those rare stretches where body, breath, and mind finally agree on something.

The light was warm, the air still cool, and I could feel that flow beginning. My legs just went. It felt so calm and grounded, like I could keep moving forever.

The flagged path towards Brown Knoll stretched endlessly ahead — solid slabs surrounded by bogs. I kept thinking how horrible, soul-sucking bog slog this must have been before the paving, when it was a swamp.

By the time I reached Brown Knoll at 2 hours 55 minutes, I was still convinced I was just “keeping pace.” I snacked properly, sipped from my hydration bladder (first time using one on hikes — now obsessed 💧, even less stopping!), and kept my rhythm.

Still thinking eight hours. Still underestimating myself. Doubting myself even while absolutely obliterating the route (in hindsight).

🪨 5. Kinder Low – The Quiet Confidence

The next climb up toward Kinder Low was pure work — steep, rocky, relentless — but I could feel strength in every step.

When my watch showed 3 hours 27 minutes and 15.2 km, I was at Kinder Low trig.

Of course I had to touch it. You don’t come this far and skip the trig — what kind of chaos would that be? 😂

Something inside me clicked. Not confidence, exactly — more like quiet certainty. I wasn’t tired. I wasn’t struggling. I was just doing it.

⛰️ 6. The Sandwich of Legends between Kinder Low and Woolpacks

Somewhere between Kinder Low trig and the start of the Woolpacks, I ate my one glorious sandwich — demolished mid-stride like a professional. No stopping, no ceremony — just a bite, a chew, and onward. Peak efficiency.

The Woolpacks came 15 minutes later — surreal shapes. I LOVE the Woolpacks - gritstone weirdness 350 million years old. Those strange boulders, that feeling of standing on another planet. 🩵

I filmed, took selfies, surprised at how much energy I still had. Power pace and media production, documenting the glory mid-stride! 📸💪I didn’t realise it yet, but I was flying.

💧 7. Crowden Rocks – Four Hours Flat

Exactly 4 hours to the stream below Crowden Rocks. I glanced at my watch: 17.15 km.

Still moving fast, still no breaks. Just sips, a breath, and go.

The sunlight glittered on the stream, the moor stretching forever.

🌤️ 8. Hope Cross – Belief Arrives Late

From Crowden Rocks to Hope Cross was flow and time barely registered — I was just moving, steady and sure, like time had stopped checking the watch.

5 hours 45 minutes — Hope Cross.

The point where my mindset finally shifted.

I was tired, yes, but I could feel something else — belief.

For hours, I’d doubted. Kept saying “eight hours” like a shield. But now I could feel how strong I still was.

I told myself: Forget the elevation ahead. Keep the pace. You can do this. Small pep talk on tired legs.

The climb toward Win Hill started to bite, steep and drawn out, but I wasn't hesitating. I focused on rhythm, not gradient.

An evidence which says how deep I was in it — people greeting me on the trail and I was just giving brief hellos instead of full-on Mira-style chats 😄.

⚡ 9. Win Hill – Fire & Focus

6 hours 28 minutes — Win Hill summit, 29 km in.

My water was gone, knees starting to complain. I pulled out the Boost — the emergency rocket fuel.

On the descent, I could see a guy ahead of me, cautious on the rocks. He heard me coming up fast behind him and said, “You’ve got sure footing — unlike me!”. And I just shouted “I’m racing against time as of now!”

I’ve held it together for six and a half hours and then just unleashed. I started jogging🙈 — actual running, knees protesting, adrenaline drowning everything else out. The final push.

🏁 10. The Finish – 6:58:36

The descent felt endless. 3.5 km steep downhill. Every corner I thought, it must be close now, but it wasn’t. I kept jogging anyway, even when my right knee screamed “Excuse me, what are we doing?!” 😂

And then — the road, the car, the stop button.6 h 58 m 36 s. 32.4 km. 1,134 m ascent. Average pace: 11:25/km.

I just stood there grinning, half in disbelief, half delirious. My knees hurt, my legs burned, but the pain was nothing — after hours of focus, strain, and self-doubt, my brain finally got to drop the guard and it flooded me with dopamine, endorphins, adrenaline.

I couldn’t stop smiling. For hours.

I didn’t even fully understand what had happened. I’d gone out expecting “a solid 8-hour Skyline,” and instead I’d smashed my personal best by 1 hour 45 minutes!

🌙 11. The Lunula

Lately I’ve been wearing my lunula — It’s an ancient symbol of the moon — strength, intuition, and cycles of renewal — exactly the energy I’ve been carrying through most of this year. I finish one challenge, pause in the stillness, then rise again, changed but still me. It feels right, because that’s what this day was: renewal.

Each Skyline I’ve done — Sept 2022, June 2025, and now October 2025 — has shown me a different version of myself.

Same route, same climbs, same gritstone edges.

The mountain didn’t change.

I did.

💚 12. Reflection

I planned this hike down to the start time and route — but belief?

That came late.

For most of the day, I just kept moving, half convinced I’d fall short.

And then somewhere between effort and exhaustion, I found proof that I could.

Peaks: ⛰️ Lose Hill (476 m), ⛰️ Back Tor (438 m), ⛰️ Barker Bank (426 m), ⛰️ Hollins Cross (388 m), ⛰️ Mam Tor (517 m), ⛰️ Lord's Seat (550 m), ⛰️ Brown Knoll (569 m), ⛰️ Kinder Low (633 m), ⛰️ Win Hill (463 m)