It's been a difficult Winter for us all having something that I love suddenly taken away. I would be lying if I said that these last few months haven't been trying where at times not only where the Lakeland fells taken away from me but so too was my identity.

It's fair to say that I have struggled mentally from looking for someone, or something to blame to simply blocking how I was feeling away, storing it for another day when I thought I could handle it better when in the end I stopped thinking about Lakeland and wondered would my passion ever return. Life got busy dealing with work and home life and our ever changing world Covid and work took over, I allowed it to.

Lets be honest Covid has shook our whole world but with travel restrictions easing slowly the world that I knew started to creep back into my life with the help of Spring. I pushed the boundaries and walked Winter Hill more times than I cared to mention, more times than I published - I needed to keep my sanity when local walks just couldn't cut it, Winter Hill soaked up the wounds but only one place would stop the bleeding.

As I drove towards Nether Wasdale I was overcome with a mixture of pure excitement and fear, the excitement was naturally explainable but the fear came from questioning my belief when after so many months away were my legs good for such a route, a quick plan B came to mind in Middle Fell and Seatallan just in case my wobble stayed with me. Illgill Head and the Wast Water Screes greeted my return to Lakeland followed by the sight of Yewbarrow, Kirk Fell, Great Gable, Lingmell and finally the Scafells. My heart was flooded by excitement and I had to stop the car, get out and draw in that Lakeland air, long bloody gulps of it. I counted four cars also making their way to Wasdale Head and I knew I had to join them but a few more minutes wouldn't hurt.

Arriving at Wasdale Head I found the car park almost full but I managed to park up at one of the last available spaces next to a mini-bus. On the opposite side of the car park a group of walkers kit up and by the sounds of it they were heading up Gable. From the car park I scour for movement on the footpath leading along the northern lower flank of Lingmell and spot four walkers grouped together but no one in between, that's good because I really don't know how I'm about to perform and to be honest, it was causing me a slight worry. There's a definite nip to the morning air so I add gloves and a buff which I slip around my neck, happen neither will stay on but they work for now.

I felt in good stead as I rounded the lower flanks of Lingmell walking at pace that I had been used to my poles doing the rest. In fact come to mention my walking poles which I up-graded to full carbon last year along with a pair of Meindl walking boots, both items have seen their fair share of muck and mud but as it so happens today is their Lakeland debut.

I wasn't quite sure if my camera would capture the streak of light which felt as if it was beckoning me to continue.

I absorb sunlight like a solar panel but today said sunlight was beaming down on Brown Tongue causing me to ascend while looking down at my boots which mean't I could concentrate on the ascent which felt tough on the legs and lungs but I persevered only stopping to take this photo prior to reaching the fork in the path where I head right for Mickeldore.

The walker up ahead is a young Polish girl who asked me which path to take? Keep on the one your on I smiled before de-shouldering my pack where my gloves and buff are packed away and replaced by a pair of sunglasses.

Mickledore from the rock ampitheater that is Hollow Stones.

A young lad and his girlfriend had followed me from the fork at the main path below, the same couple who I had seen ascending Brown Tongue earlier. I stopped so they could catch up and we talked about the route and how we were going to descend, I told him my intention was to descend Lingmell which could be gained from Lingmell Col during their descent of Scafell Pike, the couple looked over towards Lingmell and replied "aye I think we'll do that too" "It's the easier descent and the view over Wast Water is second to none" I replied.

I let the young couple take off and watched them as I shouldered my pack who by now had just reached the scree below Mickledore, I was a good 80 yards back but I could still and hear their faded conversation.

With a freshening wind I picked over rock and linked up with the main path bound for the summit, looking left a procession of walkers were heading towards me with just a few walking back having just summated themselves, the young couple had also just arrived (seen to the right of the shelter) and I passed with "it's a bit cooler up here" they smiled and I wished them to enjoy the rest of their day. It was more crowded around the rear of the summit those sat chatting no doubt were seeking shelter from the summit winds. From the direction of Broad Crag Col more walkers are ascending yet despite how busy the Pike looked it had an absolute silence in nature with people whispering or it seemed that way anyway.

I navigated myself around the shelter and started a slight descent easterly so I could take in the view over Broad Crag.