Redemption on the Roof of Wasdale ⛰️✨

bootsandbanter
Oct 3
7 min read

Two Peaks, Four Strangers, One Destiny

Date: 28 September 2025

📍 Route: Overbeck Car Park→ NT Car Park→ Burnmoor Tarn → Slight Side → Scafell → Descent to Wastwater via Green How

📏 Distance: 18.7 km

⬆️ Ascent: 1,120 m

⛰️Wainwrights: #212 & #213

Time: 8 hrs 30 mins

Weather: Sunshine, calm, no wind — felt like summer, not late September.

Mood: Lifted, energised, and full of summit banter.

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🌅 The Morning Mood

Because of the damp conditions, I made an early call: no Lord’s Rake, no West Wall Traverse, no Deep Gill. Slippery gullies on wet rock weren’t worth the risk today. Instead, I’d keep it simple — and as it turned out, that was the best decision I could have made.

I parked at Overbeck, walked to the Wasdale National Trust car park.

About that 1 mile walk - right in front of me, Kirkfell and Great Gable stood in full glory under the rising sun 🌄. It was like a painting — so stunning and beautiful it’s almost impossible to describe, silence broken by birdsong. The sunlight on their slopes, turning the whole valley into a living painting. You have to be there to understand the feeling. I actually stopped and thought: this is moving. Photos? Pointless (📸I took many anyway).

Within 15 minutes I ditched my neatly plotted 9 km route. Reason - weather and vibes ✨.

Classic ME. Honestly, my poor OS Maps plans never stand a chance. That’s the perk of hiking solo — I can double the length, abandon the line completely, or make it up as I go along. No debates, no convincing, no compromises. Just me, my own mood, and the mountains.

Instead, I decided to make it longer and head out towards Burnmoor Tarn.

It was perfect. The rain from the night before had left everything fresh, but the morning itself was superbly calm — the silence was absolute — no birdsong, no movement, nothing. It felt like stepping into a deep space vacuum, just me and the empty vastness of the fells. That silence made a massive impression on me — eerie, beautiful, unforgettable.

🐄 Cow Boss Battles & Burnmoor Tarn Bliss

The path to Burnmoor Tarn delivered one of those “Mira moments”: absolute quiet… and then suddenly, a herd of cows blocking the way, right on the path! 🐄😳.

They just stared. I stared back. No one moved.

Each side of the path was boggy rush grass, but I had no choice but to detour through it. Honestly? I was terrified. Cows are scarier than scrambles, especially metres away 😅⛰️.

When I finally made it past, Burnmoor Tarn appeared in front of me like a mirror 🌊. Still, calm, beautiful. I was so glad I’d changed the route — I’d never have stood on its edge otherwise. Those are the small choices that make big memories 💚.

Underneath Great How just when I thought I was free from livestock drama, I came across another herd of cows — even bigger this time — standing right across the path. 🐂🙈

This time there was no easy way around. I ended up threading my way right through them, sometimes only a metre away. I was petrified.

By now the ground was getting boggy and unpredictable, so I brought out my poles. They were lifesavers — poking the ground ahead before stepping, making sure I didn’t sink too far. Even then, parts of the route were pathless, and that’s always an unnerving feeling: trying to keep direction in the middle of the nothingness 🧭😬.

⛰️ Slight Side – The “Steep Side”

Heading up Slight Side, I finally saw two people ahead joining from a side path, after hours of total solitude. It was steep — I kept thinking it should really be renamed Steep Side 🥵— but at the top I caught up with them.

And here’s where the magic started. Banter flowed. We swapped Wainwright stories.

They asked how many I had left. I said: “Two.” They looked at me and said: “This is our 212th.” Cue spooky music, because it was my 212th too.

Then they told me they still had Scafell to do. “So do I,” I said. The woman’s jaw dropped.

When I asked them what their final fell was, they said Lingmell. ⛰️ At that point I laughed and said, “That’s mine too.” I pulled out my phone and showed her my app. Same last three, same final fell. The woman just kept shaking her head saying, “I can’t believe this is real.” 🤯 Their names were Louise and Pierre, and right there on Slight Side, a strange summit bond was born.

🗣️ Scafell – The Summit Social Club

I carried on ahead towards Scafell. The views were incredible — Scafell instantly became one of my favourites. 😍 At the summit shelter, a man and woman were sitting, Richard and Karen.

Richard told me it was his 213th. I laughed — because it was mine too. Then Louise and Pierre arrived behind me… also on their 213th. 🤯 Four strangers, all hitting 213 together on Scafell. What are the chances?! 🍀

We ended up in a full-on summit networking session. 🗣️✨ Richard was finishing his seventh round of Wainwrights that day on Slight Side. He’s climbed peaks across Europe and even asked me about Bulgaria’s highest mountain. The conversation was inspiring, uplifting, and honestly extended my hike by quite a bit. But I didn’t care — this is what hiking’s really about. Not just ticking peaks, but connecting with people who understand why you do it. ❤️

I’d walked up in a vest, but standing around chatting on the second-highest fell eventually got chilly. ❄️ On went the jacket and gloves. Still, I refused to sit down. Chatting > comfort.

And the backdrop? Calm, sunshine, no wind, 360° views of the mountains around Scafell. 🌞⛰️ It was perfection.

🏔️ Ultra Talk on Scafell

Somewhere in all the summit chatter, Richard casually dropped the word ultras. I had no clue what he meant. Honestly, I thought he was speaking a different language. I smiled, nodded, and mentally filed it under “not my problem.”

Except… of course, it became my problem. Because the second I got home, I googled it. 🙈 Turns out ultras are ultra-prominent peaks (P1500s), mountains with 1,500 m of prominence or more. There are approximately 1,500 such peaks on Earth.

And here’s the kicker: I’ve already done 3 in Bulgaria. Which explains why Richard mentioned it in the first place.

And now of course my brain is like: well, if I’ve ticked 3 in Bulgaria, maybe I should look into doing the rest of the Europe's South Eastern ultras, there are only 22 (!)… 🙈 Because apparently I can’t be trusted with new mountain lists.

Honestly, I need a t-shirt to wear on my hikes: “Do not share hiker stuff with me. I will pretend I am not interested, I will google it, I will obsess, and before you know it, I’ll have another challenge on the list.” 😂

Same thing happened with the Welsh 15 in 24 hours earlier this year — dropped casually into conversation by a stranger… and before long I was signed up, trained up, and went out there doing it within 2 months of the pretend dismissing. 🙈⛰️

🏞️ The Descent – So Close, Yet So Far

Eventually, I pulled myself away. The descent down Scafell’s back side was a long scree slope, then on towards Wastwater. Within ten minutes, the layers were back off and I was down to a vest again in full sunshine.

On my right, Lingmell loomed in full blazing sunshine. So close. So tempting. The thought crossed my mind: “I could do it. I could finish today.” But no. That one waits for a special day. Some peaks deserve patience.

🥪 Nutrition: Chaos Mode Activated

Breakfast was a pecan pastry from Co-op 🥐. My supplies: one litre of water, one Lucozade, one sandwich, one Belvita. On Scafell, I ate the sandwich (! at the end of the hike), the Belvita I had earlier, and less than a litre of water. I still had half a Lucozade🥤and some water left when I finished.

How? I don’t know. It’s like I switch into “plod mode” on hikes and just keep going with the bare minimum. At home, I eat normally. On the fells, apparently I run on vibes, sarcasm, and stubbornness.

And as if my summit banter wasn’t enough fuel, I scored an orange Club biscuit 🍊🍪 from a stranger at the NT car park - unexpectedly the highlight of my nutrition strategy. 😂

💭 Reflections – Redemption in Sunshine

This day felt like redemption. After all the miserable hikes in clag and rain — the Mordor days where nothing goes right — the mountains finally gave me calm, light, and magic.

Because here’s the thing: you have to look for the good things to feel them special. And when you do, days like this happen. Coincidences, conversations, silence, sunshine. Slight Side and Scafell weren’t just Wainwrights #212 and #213. They were proof that the fells always give back — eventually.

Peaks: Slight Side (762 m) ⛰️, Scafell (964 m) - Southern Fells

🔍Final Thoughts

If I hadn’t changed my route at the start, I’d never have met Louise, Pierre, Richard, or Karen. I really do believe destiny put us in the right place, with the right people, at the right time.

It also reminded me that hiking isn’t just about ticking summits. It’s about the silence that feels like a deep space vacuum 🤫, the ridiculous cow standoffs 🐄🙈, the summit banter that extends your day by an hour 🗣️, and the spooky coincidences that make your jaw drop 🤯.

Most of all, it’s about choosing to notice the good things — because that’s what turns a hike into a memory. 💚