With yet another storm (I forget its name) we go into the weekend thinking when will all this bad weather end. I simply can't remember the last time we had a run of so consistent wet and windy weather the way the winter of 2016 has turned out that I find myself looking back on past walks reminiscing what a hard frost underfoot felt like. The timings of the forecast are usually reserved for the weekends leaving the weekdays with the odd dry or sunny day when I'm a million miles away tucked up behind a desk in Manchester...right about this time frustrations are kinda running high but I haven't given up all hope just yet as we enter into early spring lets hope the frost arrives before the April showers.

Due to the forecast I was forced to sit Saturday out, in turn I slipped back into family life ferrying my wife and daughter too and from the shops and my reward for this was a free night in with the remote control which is where I planned this walk. Every now and again I like to nip back to the remotest of fells which are usually reserved in the far east of the district, you may already know my fondness for High Street but I also share a similar fondness for the Shap Fells; one in particular is Great Yarlside and everything involved in reaching its lonely summit.

The Wasdale Horseshoe slotted just perfectly with todays forecast, even if it meant getting wet and being blown about the place because lets face it, it's not like were not used to it by now. Please accept my apologies in advance if the images I took appear a little blurry as it was quite difficult trying to keep the camera steady at times.

Under furious winds I arrived at the deserted layby at around 09:10am but refused to get out of the car until it had stopped raining, the wind was so strong it was rocking the car from side to side while the rain pelted at the car windows.

Have you ever had that feeling what the hell are you doing? Me too, right about now.

Surprisingly I had a full signal on my phone and I was able to view the forecast for Bretherdale Head which at least brought some comfort in that the showers should soon ease. I told myself when the rain stops I'm going to have a quick look up and down the adjoining valleys to make sure more wasn't on its way then start my kit up and not before!

The rain did stop and I was left fighting with the drivers door as if the wind was trying to tell me something...around the back of the car I start to lace up adding my gaiters which are now starting to show signs of some serious wear and tear, having already repaired them once I guess after today I might need to renew but that's the last thing on my mind.

The wind blows a hooley up the back of my midlayer which flaps in the wind, there's more rain in the air but thankfully it doesn't amount to much and passes north towards Shap. I'm layered up but the wind is taking my mind off matters, I close the boot and place the car key within the waterproof compartment in my pack, then I carefully tie in the rain hood before remembering that I have left; not just my walking poles but my camera still in the boot, think straight Paul.

Having already summited Whatshaw Common in the past there was no real gain in doing it again today which would have included an out and back, with this I pass the broken wire fence which many before me had used to gain access to the summit plateau, instead I continue ahead by following the stone wall to the right which offered protection against the prevailing winds.

Footnote: Had the weather have been kinder there was no doubt of a summit of Whatshaw Common, followed by a crows eye descent to meet back up with the stone wall.

Continuing with the ascent the summit plateau is soon reached but I find myself on the wrong side of the stone wall which I guess is my own fault for using it as a wind break for much of the morning, with this I sight the summit from over the wall and i'm forced to continue towards the familiar gate found on the north east shoulder of the summit making Great Yarlside...a little out and back.

After passing through the gate I scale a taught wire fence before retracing my way now on the right side of the wall, you may ask why I didn't try to scale the stone wall which I might of had it not been for the new deer fence in place.

The stone cairn is sighted well before the familiar circular trig point, the wind is at its highest and I'm being buffeted like a leaf in storm, summit time today, will sadly be kept brief.

Memories are cast back when on my first summit of Great Yarlside many years ago I sat here eating lunch while looking back on another favored summit of Harrup Pike, not today, if I stay still for too long I'll end up on the Isle of Man.

I again retrace my steps as I find my way back to the familiar gate where it starts to rain, after a quick look west I can see bands of rain are approaching from the direction of Harrop Pike and indeed the Kentmere Fells and with this wind it will soon arrive as I sit the shower out tucked neatly behind the stone wall, the rain and hail passes over head as a feeling of contempt bears down on me, I had left the gate open which bangs against the gate post close to where I had left my walking poles propped up which by now, have been blown over.

I was in no rush at all to leave the comforts that the stone wall provided, in fact I could have stayed there much longer than I needed to, it was just me and the wind...oh, and the occasional banging gate.

On a personal note one of the finest paths in Lakeland can be found between Great Yarlside and Wasdale Pike, there's nowt to see except gorse and heather bushes as far as the eye can see, if you like the feeling of remoteness on a bleak winters day this is the place to find it, I was in heaven.

It was noted from the summit of Wasdale Pike that I needed to start my descent quite soon in order to 'drop on' Wasdale Head, after leaving the summit I keep with the wooden fence but only for a short time, soon this fence one way or another will have to be scaled which I do as I arrive at what I would describe as possibly a wooden marker pole which had been treated to a different colour than the rest of the fence poles, beyond that, traces of a path that lead through the heather.

This was my path.

It was bound to happen, the path that I had been following ran into thick heather and with no other way around I pick my way through finally meeting up with a faint path that lead towards a second fence with...you've guessed it, another marker treated darker than the rest of the fence post.

Below, Wasdale Head.

There is a certain eeriness contained within old ruins and Wasdale Head Farm was no different. Despite the fact that most of the buildings are lying flat or have trees growing out of their stone work it isn't hard to imagine how difficult life must have been here for the working farmer when the A6 was nothing more than a pipe dream, harsh times.

I leave and head out towards Wasdale Beck via a narrow track.

I had followed the narrow track until I reached the tree line shown on my map where I am left with two options, one is to continue following the track or two, head east and follow the tree line until Wasdale Beck is reached.

The pines had been cut back enabling me views into Wasdale and indeed the traffic as it travelled along the A6, the noise from their engines bringing the walk back into reality. Wasdale Beck is reached and is much wider due to recent rainfall than I had expected, the narrow parts of the beck are up to three feet deep and making a crossing here would leave me soaked to the thighs. At one point in the beck however, the water is measured and again it reached the handle of my walking pole but on the other bank, the water is stony and shallow, I reckon with a good run I can jump it, the final commitment was when I threw my walking poles like javelins onto the opposite bank.

I walk back about twelve paces never keeping my eye off the opposite bank then make a run for it thankfully clearing the water completely landing in the shale on the opposite side of the bank.

I'm getting to owd for this !!

I continue following the forestry trail which at some points began to slow me down due to felled trees that lay across the path or the unstable wet ground that I had to gain in order to reach the summit of the A6. The familiar sound of the humming from the pylons greeted me as did the wind as it passed through their metal work, ahead a car would drive past as I attracted the attention of a passenger or a lorry driver from the comforts of a warm cab.

With the exception of snow, today I have encountered most of what winter can throw at you, my cheeks are red raw and so too are the tips of my ears that my beanie hat just couldn't cover, my eyes and nose are running like a tap yet this was just a small price to pay for three great hours in the bleak of winter on the edge of the Lakeland Fells.