David had to pull out of todays walk not wanting to aggravate a cold he's had this week which left myself and Rod to plan todays walk. Initially with David we had planned to walk from Helm Crag to Steel Fell (The Greenburn Horseshoe) which we'll leave until David is feeling better. I've had a hankering for St Sunday Crag for a few weeks but with Winter well and truly arriving on the Lakeland fells this weekend it was touch and go on where to walk, or so we thought.

I'd been wanting to climb St Sunday Crag via Grisedale for sometime, you know how it is it just sits there at the back of your mind so with the Greenburn walk cancelled I now needed to persuade Rod to join me, the only thing was conditions weren't going our way with rain, hail and summit snow forecast throughout the day so I put it to Rod to walk through Grisedale up to Grisedale Tarn from where we'll access conditions on whether we climb St Sunday Crag or head back through Grisedale, there was even talk of heading up Seat Sandal but if I'm honest, that was never going to happen, and neither was that walk back through Grisedale.

I hadn't the best start to the day after discovering the bite valve on my bladder pack had leaked a pool of water onto the kitchen floor as I was just about ready to leave, anyone who uses bladder packs will know just what a faff they can be which meant I had to empty the contents of my pack on the floor before sorting out alternative hydration which came in two one litre bottles of water I bought from the Shell Petrol station on the A591 just outside Kendal. Sorting my pack made me late which I hate so instead of just taking my time during my drive north I had to put my foot down which I also hate. My head was making mountains out of molehills but I did have a point for I knew drinking from bottled water would require me to de-shoulder my pack but there's now't I could do about now. After buying the water I packed it carefully and got back in the car feeling less agitated. I left the A591 and took the Moorehow Road on to the Kirkstone Pass, it was still dark and I used my full beam headlights not encountering any traffic coming in the opposite direction. As I approached the Kirkstone Pass Inn conditions changed rapidly. Dawn was about to break but it was still dark not helped by a mass of dark cloud which just sat at the top of Kirkstone Pass. Within seconds I realised I'd driven into a cloud of hailstone which turned the road white, the hailstone was bouncing off my car so loudly I couldn't hear the radio at this point, I had just passed the Inn on my right and the carpark on my left and was just about to start my descent on Kirkstone Pass. The hail got heavier at which point I braked from about 20mph, my car skidded on the hail thankfully in a straight line as the first right hand bend approached, I think a bit of wee came out! and my mouth dried within seconds. Shit, shit shit, what the hell I am going to do here.

The hail was bouncing and I couldn't hear a thing, I check my rear view mirror, nothing, that's good. I put my hazards on and slowly lift off the brake at which point my heart is in my mouth, it's too dangerous to attempt a three point turn but what would be the point anyway, I have zero traction. I have no choice but to risk the descent at a point when I try not to let panic set in but all I can think is this brand new car with less the 2k on the clock will at some point career into a stone wall and how the hell am I going to explain that to my boss! Ok...I take a gulp from my water bottle on the passenger seat, I check my rear view mirror, still nothing. I ease my foot off the brake pedal and put the car into 1st gear, I let the car roll no more than 6mph and ease it into the first bend while keeping the car dead centre of the white lines, I continually check my rear view mirror and for any headlights approaching from the bottom of the pass, nothing. With shot nerves I descend the pass at 6mph until I get to the bottom at which point my heart was still in my mouth and I felt like I'd just used one of my lives, I look back through my rear view mirror before the top of the pass disappears and just see a mass of black cloud. With Patterdale just a few minutes away I try to compose myself but it's no good, my hands are trembling slightly and I feel pretty pasty. Rod was already parked up when I arrived and was sat in the passenger seat kitting up so I parked alongside and prompt him to lower his window before explaining what had just happened, Rod joins me in my car for a few moments and soon I start to feel normal again, it's still bouncing down only this time with rain and my mood soon returns to jovial and with that, we proceed to kit up with hopes or reaching Grisedale Tarn.

Blimey, what a start to the day eh.

The good news was our surrounding summits remain cloud free even during the sudden hail burst and we were able to get a good look at the recent snowfall over Dollywagon Pike and Nethermost Pike.

Up ahead we pass the old barn where Alfred Wainwright spent the night on the eve Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay conquered Mount Everest back on 29th May 1953.

With Grisedale Tarn in sight we left the path and de-toured towards Brothers Parting Stone, it's a place I have seen from afar but had never visited before. Conditions were bleak and my attempts to photograph the inscription on the rock failed, it was just too dark. We used the craggy outcrop as shelter for a moment where I thought it was the right time to ask Rod an ascent on St Sunday "too right" Rod snapped back! Brilliant, bloody brilliant I replied. We left Brothers Parting Stone and made our way over to Grisedale Tarn where we found the ground extremely boggy and a few hop, skips and jumps were required in order to reach the waters edge.

It was bleak but beautiful and the windchill was mighty cold, soon after taking this photo we were hit by another hail shower only this time it was backed by the strongest wind we'd encountered so far, so strong we had to keep our feet wide so we didn't topple over, we were fully exposed to the hail and my only memory was how painful the back of my head felt as the hail hit it, yes of course we were wearing hoods while underneath I wore a baseball cap which doubled as an extra peak, yes this kept the hail mostly out of my face but offered zero protection around the back of my head from the hail which felt like pellets shot from an air rifle as they hit.

The only positives to take from these sharp but bloody brutal showers was they didn't last very long and soon spirits were back once the showers had passed.

Reaching the top of Deepdale Hause was pretty challenging where we had to kick steps into the deep snow which at times felt near vertical, we emerged about 60 yards further up St Sunday Crag's south ridge rather than 'squarely' at Deepdale Hause which was due to the finding the best, and safest ascent onto the Hause.

The good news was we had gained ground without realising it on St Sunday Crag, the bad news was we were about to get a taste of some of the strongest winds we had ever experienced.

Between Deepdale Hause and the last push towards the summit we experienced some of the strongest winds so far only they were accompanied once again with hail and snow turning conditions into almost whiteout. I do not feel we were in any danger as our experience was foremost maintaining an advance towards the summit, however, for the inexperienced such conditions could bring one to their knees where hyperthermia would set in brutally quick. I say this because of the challenge I was presented with.

I tracked on ahead but had to stop twice because my pack waterproof cover had blown off and was now acting like a sail much to my annoyance, Rod managed to secure it the first time but after it flew off again I'd had enough it was starting to become a safety concern so within the lee of an outcrop I stubbornly dropped to my knees and scrunched it into a tight bundle before stuffing it into the little pocket at the base of my pack, it was then I spotted my water bottle which I had bought from the petrol station earlier so I unscrewed the lid and took three long gulps of what was now, freezing water.

After re-shouldering we continued our advancement towards the summit but the wind and sudden burst of hail were causing problems. I selfishly went into 'self mode' where all I wanted to do was achieve todays goal of reaching the summit, I pushed forward and for a few minutes stopped checking if Rod was ok behind me, after stopping to check some minutes later on I found Rod a short distance behind I shouted over the wind "OK" and Rod's reply was simple, he shook his head.

For a second my heart dropped into my stomach, after all I look up to Rod with all he has achieved so much in completing the Wainwrights numerous times, the Birketts, the Outliers, the Howgills, the Cumbrian Way the list goes on...I let Rod approach and he told me the wind was getting the better of him which was good news and not what I feared that he'd twisted his ankle or injured himself. Rod soon perked up and we agreed to slow things down so instead of trying to reach the summit with all guns blazing we approached in a controlled manner side by side while the wind howled all around us.

We reached the summit at the same time another hail storm approached and we were left with no option other than to 'stand it out' and again tiny balls of hail making big indentations into the backs of our heads, it hurt like hell and I was pleased once it had passed we would be out of the worst of it, or so we thought anyway.

We had already agreed instead of making our descent via the direct route we would head for Gavel Pike just east from the summit, this descent should prove easier and less exposed.

We soon arrived at Birks summit right at the same time a shower of hail arrived which was easily shrugged off before starting the steep descent of Birks where we were met by a final and ferocious hail shower which battered the life out of our waterproofs, I heard Rod shout over the wind "where the hell has this come from!" We laughed that mother nature hadn't finished with us just yet. The deep snow made the steep ascent quick underfoot but nevertheless this is a steep descent and care had to be taken. The hail slowly turned to rain and by the time we were out of the snow line it was falling vertically and lived up to the namesake of 'Lakeland rain'. With Grisedale Lane reached we walked our way back into Patterdale passing Patterdale Mountain Rescue quietly thinking they weren't going to be called out today.

With the cars reached we started to kit down and the rain let up for a little while, I sipped on hot vimto which I could sense warming my inner core almost instantly. I shook hands with Rod and wished him Happy Christmas as I won't see him before then got into my car and whacked the heater up until I had pins and needles in my face. It would have been silly of me to even attempt driving back up Kirkstone Pass, in fact as I write this I have just read it's to be avoided at all costs with "countless cars left abandoned" I guess I got lucky there but I also got lucky in being able to enjoy such a fierce but grand day on the fells which left me feeling more alive than ever.