The ascent of Grasmoor's north west ridge looks impregnable from the ground but early Lakeland pioneers would have blazed a route up this ridge during their early explorations resulting in one of Lakelands finest, yet toughest ascents condemned to the sadistic walker inept on reaching Grasmoor End.

I've known about this route for as long as I've been walking the Lakeland fells in fact Alfred Wainwright in his guidebook the North Western Fells 'Grasmoor 6' compares the direct ascent to the north wall of the Eiger, for anyone including myself yet to ascend the direct route reading Wainwrights comparison was enough to leave a gulp in anyones throat, mine included.

It was only after my Mellbreak walk back in May did Rod suggest giving the 'Grasmoor Direct' route a bash and I of course replied to Rod with a pretty enthusiastic email explaining that Grasmoor's Direct route had been on my Lakeland bucket list for sometime and how like many other routes, it had just fallen through the net.

Until today, this is Grasmoor Direct.

Gulp!

As I was taking the previous photo Rod drove past me and arrived at Lanthwaite Green first soon followed by myself minutes later, I was surprised to find the car park full and feared I might have to find somewhere else to park before spotting the very last space next to the exit. After parking up I wandered over to Rod passing a group who were cooking breakfast on a BBQ behind their car, undeterred by the smell of bacon the first words we spoke after a firm handshake were "if the car park is this full then where is everyone?" It was odd to see the car park so busy so early but an explanation will come later which would explain it all but for now we're left a little puzzled.

It's mild without so much as a breath of wind which makes todays conditions perfect to climb Grasmoor's north west ridge. With Rod kitting up on the opposite side of the car park I kit up while being tortured by the smell of cooking bacon. My kit is kept to a minimum to save on weight (unchanged from my Ennerdale Horseshoe) with only 1.5ltrs of hydration as opposed to the 3ltrs I carried that day.

Wearing just shorts and a long sleeve base layer I locked my car and wondered back over to Rod this time joking "was there any bacon going spare" "wait around they laughed!" We left the carpark and picked up the smooth grassy path where Whiteside and Whin Ben stood ahead while Grasmoor's north west ridge dominated the corner of my right eye.

Both myself and Rod are familiar with rough scree having both previously descended the notorious Dorehead Screes and Windgap Screes plus various other scree rakes such as Lord's Rake and Deep Gill on Sca Fell most of which are at some point in regular use, however the scree here doesn't see the same usage meaning it feels like 'virgin scree' underfoot with all the larger boulders at the base giving a false sense of security with firm footings to start leaving the medium to small size rocks found half way up the slope, this is where the scree becomes incredibly loose and tiresome and there's a good 1,400ft of it to pick at until the heather is reached below the vast crags which in terms of scale would equal that of a four story building.

We followed Wainwrights advice by keeping to the centre of the scree despite spotting a scree path to the far right of our location - this path was mostly shale and would have been as equally loose and difficult to ascend by so we decided to ascend by the larger to medium size rocks rather than take our chances with the shale.

Our point of contact is to the left of the crags ahead from where we would ascend a grass rake which reminded Wainwright of Lord's Rake but before we make any comparisons we need to reach the heather up ahead.

I'm not sure if my body is still getting over the Ennerdale Horseshoe or it's a combination of how busy I've been in work over the last two weeks but the scree was sapping away at energy levels so early into the walk. With Rod ascending like the power horse he is I started to fall behind and this caused me to feel frustrated, I just couldn't find my 'happy medium' and I started to curse under my breath. The scree at this point was woo-full finding to ascend just one step took an energy sapping three and I knew it was exactly the same for Rod.

By now I was probably 30ft behind Rod and I told myself that it was 'good practice' to maintain such a distance just in case of rock fall which helped self morale. By the time we had reached the heather we were ascending at a forty degree angle clutching (and trusting) the heather in order to gain the next step, this despite the steepness meant I was able to catch Rod up and with the scree confined behind me I was soon joking again although inside I think we both felt like we'd just done a round with Mike Tyson.

We negotiated the crag by means of two or three 10/15ft scrambles to start, these were at times quite vertical and reminded me of the rock wall at Piers Ghyll and the rock wall on the north side of Glaramara's summit, quite easy but concentration required at all times as exposure was never too far away.

Despite agreeing to walk Grasmoor's north west ridge we hadn't thought of what to do afterwards so I suggested we return via Whiteside which would mean traversing the Hopegill Head to Whiteside ridge to which Rod replied in his email "you took the words out of my mouth"

I took this photo prior to reaching Fat Man's Agony which is a grass gully (sorry out of shot far left) with quite a tight squeeze close to the head of the gully.

We ascend left and reach the base of Fat Man's Agony (gully)

I really could have kicked myself having totally missed out on Fat Man's Agony where instead I 'kid like' ascended the rock tower seen sloping from left to right. With Rod out of sight and earshot I found Rod waiting for me at the top who greeted me with a loud HELLoooooooo... accompanied by a cheeky grin spread across his face "I've just ascended through Fat Man's Agony" he smiled and although I had immensely enjoyed my rocky scramble had I known Fat Man's Agony was just below me I would have followed Rod.

We watched the two guys and their dogs disappear back towards the summit and after our excursion along the mini ridge we followed them mostly in silence in awe at our achievements or possibly just out of breath.

On reaching the summit we found a young girl sat down taking in the view over Gasgill while a fell runner was just preparing to leave, we didn't spend too much time at the summit as the light was still low and views were limited so we left and enjoyed the smooth grass underfoot before starting our descent then re-ascent on Eel Crag (Crag Hill)

I had assumed that we would have been returning via the same path we had ascended by but Rod suggested we descend via Eel Crag which at first took a second to sink in (I initially thought Rod meant descend via scrambling down the rugged and very steep north face) but my panic was soon over when what Rod actually meant was to descend via the rocky zigzags on the west flank of the fell.

A route I think I have only used once by accident some years ago.

Amid many a fell runner the summit of Hopegill Head was soon reached and we managed to find a spot away from the summit breeze overlooking Hope Gill.

It's now becoming apparent why the car park was so busy this morning as most of its occupants would have been taking part in the Buttermere fell race.

We broke out lunch just a few yards from two Marshals who were checking in the last of the fell runners some of whom were walking hand on hips across the ridge, it was great to see the Marshals give cheery hello's and a 'well done" to each and every competitor even though this was the first leg of the race which takes in the whole Buttermere and Lorton valleys starting from Loweswater before heading onto Whiteside, Hopegill Head, Grasmoor, Whiteless Pike, Newlands Hause, Dale Head, Honister Pass, Haystacks, High Crag, High Stile, Red Pike, Mosedale and finally Mellbreak covering 8,250ft over 22 miles.

We did as we had agreed and took a few moments out to survey this mornings ascent from Whin Ben easily spotting the Grass Rake, the many rock towers where hours earlier we had scrambled followed by The Pinnacle, The Arete and finally steep ascent onto Grasmoor End but the one thought which had never left me all day was how impregnable the ridge still looked while not forgetting the steep scree that had caused me so many frustrations so early into the walk. The closely clipped grass felt good underfoot and with a warm afternoon sun beating down we made our way back to the cars stopping every few moments to look back up the ridge and even though the goal had been completed seeing the ridge as we returned back to our cars still left a gulp in my throat.