continued
The show wasn't long coming. Two chaps reached the Bad Step; one ascended while the other watched him. But after a lot of lingering, the second fellow headed off on the alternative path round the back of the summit. It was a disappointing first act. But better was to follow.
Act two featured an old-ish couple who arrived and made a bee line for the step. Mister Bossy strode right up the gully to the chockstone where he proceeded to instruct Missus Mousey with imperious sweeps and jabs of his walking pole. But ascending the corner by the chockstone isn't nearly as easy as the usual way up a few feet further down. Try as she might, poor Missus Mousey couldn't haul herself up - and, to be fair, I'd have struggled too in that corner. After quite a bit of inelegant arse-jutting leg-flailing contortion she retreated. Mister Bossy waved his stick in frustration.
At this point, two young guys turned up who obviously knew the easiest way up. They demonstrated the ascent by example and, thus instructed, Missus Mousey got up the step with seeming ease. However, much to our delight, Mister Bossy made a right dog's breakfast of the climb. The Viking and I were tempted to give him a slow handclap but thought such an outward display of schadenfreude would be tempting fate - we'd feel complete dicks if we subsequently fell off ourselves.
In the event, we had to walk the long way round anyway: the dog couldn't find a way to circumvent the step and adopted a hang-dog expression. I was not about to try hoisting a large wriggly canine six foot up a wall while balancing on rock. However, the Viking held the dog on its leash while I nipped up the step just for the hell of it. Unsurprisingly, it was harder to downclimb back than it had been to go up; just to make sure I did it twice. Boys will be boys. The Viking and the dog did a bit of head-shaking and tsk-ing.
After poking around Long Top for a bit we dropped down from the ridge to walk below the Crinkles on the Eskdale side over a mixture of grass and rocks. In the end, this diversion didn't save much ascent nor provide huge entertainment although the view across upper Eskdale to the Scafells never fails to impress me. We explored some interesting little nooks and crannies and found several flattish spots to camp although, in hindsight, they would be rather exposed to westerly and southwesterly winds.
After half-an-hour's enjoyably pointless ambling, we emerged at Three Tarns. The dog gamboled happily in the water while we dithered over whether or not to go up Bowfell. We decided against, whistled up the dripping dog and set off for Langdale.
Neither of us like that dull plod along the top of The Band, much less the tedious knee-jarring descent on the pitched path down to Stool End. Instead, we veered off to the right from Busco Syke to trot down the fellside on unpathed grass. This provided quick and easy going and we were soon at the head of Hell Gill, one of the prettiest tree-lined ravines in the area.
Hell Gill is one of my favourite spots to dawdle and gawp but this time we pressed on. After the short steep 'staircase' descent on the pitched path beside the ravine, we were back on easy going past Whorneyside Force, down into Oxendale and on to Stool End.
It had been short day but a merry one. Just as we got to the end of the Stool End farm road with the campsite in view the rain started - how was that for good timing?
