My eyes nearly popped out of my head when I arrived at Mardale Head car park a little before 07:00am to see David parked up "Got my email then" I smiled ... "I did" David smiled back. As it turned out when David read about the route he headed straight for Mardale Head explaining there wasn't enough time to reply - high fives and all that. I reversed my car at the side of David's having noticed there was three or four cars parked up already and soon we were joined by a two young farmers and their dogs who got out of a pick up before marching off in the direction of Gatescarth Pass.

The sun had been up for about twenty minutes but for now Mardale was in shade with the temperature rising steadily. For the first time since last October I set off without hats or gloves and within twenty minutes of ascending Gatescarth Pass I wished I was wearing shorts. We caught up, nattering away still in shade with the exertion of the ascent threatening to lose layers close to the top of the pass. With more height gained sunlight started to flood the valley casting the upper half of Harter Fell in morning light which extended horizontally across Mardale Head and onto the Rough Crag ridge.

The sunshine continued to beam down and it was only a matter of time or convenience before we would down packs and de-layer. We inched ourselves onto the summit after passing a trio of walkers non of whom had crossed the stepped wall to view the trig point. David recollects a wild camp he spent at the summit a couple of Summers ago while we soak up the views around the compass. It was David who spotted a lone Deer about 300 yards away to the south what followed was a 'stare off' lasting a two great minutes, despite scouring the ridge we failed to spot any more Deer both agreeing the rest of the herd would be close by.

We were passed by many a walker or fell runner heading back to Sadgill as we ascended the last zigzags, feet aching as the gradient finally levelled. There is nothing quite like kicking your feet into the backs of your boots – the shift was heavenly. We flanked Adam Seat to our left while David scoured the top of the pass for the familiar gate. "Where is it?" The ground ahead gave way revealing the steel gate which we held open for a grateful trio and a solo fell runner. Two walkers were descending Branstree by the same narrow trod I had ascended by last summer; they looked at ease as they two joined the pass, checked their phones and passed us heading for Sadgill. It had taken us nearly an hour to ascend the pass this morning, and even in conversation, I reckon it would take half that to descend.

We were passed by a young couple close to the top, and then a solo walker midway down; after that, we had the pass to ourselves, the isolation extending as we scoured the surrounding peaks and ridges, sighting no one. We were met by a cool breeze as we descended into the Haweswater Valley. Slowly, figures started to appear from the direction of Small Water, then three more who had made a direct ascent on Swine Crag from the footpath between the footbridge over Mardale Beck and The Rigg. We couldn't believe our eyes; it was as if they said, "Let's go up there." Three became five; mine and David's bottom jaws rattled by the shaking of our heads. How and why? We didn't know. The bottom of the pass swung right from where the car park came into view; despite it being full, the area retained its quietude, just the breeze, the odd rock disturbed underfoot and the creak of the Deer gate where our walk came to an end.