Looking at the week ahead the forecast looked great with consecutive days of Winter sunshine so I booked Friday off and asked the lads did they fancy joining me on a tour of the Grasmoor fells, it was too short notice for Rod but David replied saying he'd be up for it and it was agreed we would finalise the meeting times on Thursday evening by means of a quick phone call. The Met Office had forecast sunshine from the off which would sadly break by Saturday, conditions looked perfect. I set off from home under starry skies and expected it to remain that way all day but during my drive north cloud was building and by the time I exited the M6 at Penrith through the darkness, cloud hung over the summits of Blencathra and Skiddaw. We had arranged to meet at the parking spaces close to Rannerdale Farm where we would leave David's car then drive the mile and half back to Lanthwaite Green.

Patches of ice made the road surface treacherous in places catching me out on the odd occasion as I drove to Rannerdale where I found David waiting around 7:30am. After David had swapped his gear from his car to mine we headed back to Lanthwaite Green where we arrived a few minutes later. The car park is pretty exposed and from the moment I stepped out of the car the windchill hit me seconds after noticing how much cloud was around. A maximum wind speed of around 25-30 mph had been forecast across the summits and if I'm honest, it was probably touching that at valley level then factor in the windchill it was a pretty uncomfortable kit up all be it a quick one as we wanted to get moving as quickly as possible.

After crossing Liza Beck we hit the slopes of Whin Ben while taking in the views into Gasgale Gill flanked by the steeply sided Grasmoor to the south and Gasgale Crags to the north. Grasmoor's Dove Crags towered over the gill as did the Dove Crag arete which rose into the scuttling cloud above. With the summit of Whin Ben reached we were presented with the steep heather clad slopes of Whiteside which for now, were free from cloud.

We began our assault on the summit our trousers entangled in the heather as we pushed through poles trailing due how narrowness of the path. The higher we ascended the more difficult conversation got due to the increasing wind speed, it was best just to stick at it. On reaching the summit shoulder we ascended a large slab of rock knowing full well within a minute or so the wind was going to hit us head on.

We were right, once the summit of Whiteside was reached all hell broke loose with the easterly wind hitting us full on, our walking poles airborne as was anything else that wasn't tied down. The loose webbing from my shoulder straps whipped at my face and with gloved hands I managed to push them underneath my shoulder strap. David looked at me as if to say 'you ok with this' as I pointed my finger towards Hopegill Head in reply 'all good' Funnily enough we had complete breaks from the wind whilst crossing above Gasgale Crags that wasn't to say we couldn't hear the wind roaring through the valley below.

By now we had been fully accustomed to the wind and the affect it was having on us but we weren't prepared for how strong the wind was as we began our descent onto Whiteless Edge. David began his descent first with myself just a couple of steps behind just feet apart but unable to talk over the roar of the wind which had increased to what can only be described as gale force easily excessive of 50-60mph where standing up, never mind walking was almost impossible. David looked back his poles airborne whilst leaning into the wind, there was no rest up - the wind just kept coming. We eased ourselves down the slope concentrating on staying upright making use of whatever cover the ridge could provide which was very little.

I looked to my right and considered a pathless descent into Rannerdale Beck below but by now David was twenty feet ahead and there was no way I could communicate over the wind and so followed him. By the most bizarre chance on reaching the summit the wind eased so we could hear ourselves talk. I was heaving such the exhaustion it took to cross the ridge, David not far behind we decided to make our descent as quickly as possible the wind easing marginally the more we lost height.

Under a blisteringly cold wind we crossed Low Bank where we passed a family trio all looking a tad disheveled and I wondered if they thought we were looking the same, I was certainly feeling it. The wind didn't let off but at least we had some Winter sunshine even if it only took the edge of the chill. We arrived at Rannerdale Knotts summit much the same time as a young couple who seemed to appear from nowhere "it's a tad windy" stating the obvious. With David's car just below the thought of closing the door to silence filled me with a warm glow. I looked back along the ridge to see the silhouettes of Fleetwith Pike and Haystacks while the wind churned Buttermere lake below. Overhead the sun was shining through broken cloud leaving golden light over the tip of the lakes surface.

We dropped from the summit and began our descent with Crummock Water looking as bitter as the mountain air felt. Despite still wearing my hat my ears were treated to a bout of pins and needles while the tears from my eyes unbeknown to me had dried on the side of my face. We continued to descend the devilishly steep stone stair case taking care on the wet rock. Below two walkers look on before disappearing from view as we reached the bottom of the stair case, we spotted them again looking for an alternative route before returning to the stair case where they began their ascent. We were just minutes from the car now as the sound of traffic travelling below brought me back to reality. The wind had eased and for those last few minutes I was starting to warm up, the car just seconds away now. David continued while I took in the view across the lake watching the white caps break across the waters surface; nearing the shoreline I spotted the carcase of what remained of a large tree before it was hit by lightening during a winter storm nearly thirteen years ago. If you'd have asked me on Whiteside did I think we'd complete the whole route I'd have shaken my head, experiencing double figured windchill for almost six hours in winds so fierce at times we were unable to stand up but we persevered until the end. Wiping dried tears from the side of my face I soon got my wish as I closed the door on David's car where silence was overcome by laughter, jeez we won't be forgetting Whiteless Edge in a hurry.