While the south and the midlands are suffering heavy snow, strong winds and significant rainfall, the northwest of the country escaped relatively unharmed with the exception of cold temperatures and a hard frost. David had emailed me through the week about where to walk the coming Saturday. The forecast looked dry and promising, although between the mainstream and mountain forecasts, it was debatable if the district would see a bright start to the morning. David had suggested Wansfell Pike, a fell that I hadn't visited since 2019, and I countered David's email with a recommendation of Fairfield and Seat Sandal from Grasmere, but as the week went on, the higher our chances looked that we might end up in cloud, so we settled on Wansfell Pike. We had arranged to meet at the car park on the Old Lake Road, Ambleside, at 6:45am for a 7:00am start. I got there just after 6:30am, soon followed by David.

Despite the zero temperature, it felt mild kitting up, and it was a blessing to have no wind with only single figures forecast at 600 metres. I couldn't tell you how much I was looking forward to not being blown about like my last two visits in Lakeland. David had brought Calva along, who I've not seen in about six months, our reunion full of dog talk, kisses and cuddles whilst David completed his kit-up. Accompanied by the sound of a hooting owl by 6:40am we had locked the cars and were heading for Fisherbeck Park, a residential area slap-bang in the middle of Ambleside, from where we turned left onto Blue Hill Road, which is another residential street which turns into a track bearing the same name once Redbank Wood is reached.

We followed the track leaving the lights of Ambleside behind in the pitch darkness, flanked by the odd light from Kelsick Grammar School on the other side of a stone wall to our left. The track was bone dry, but care had to be taken due to long stretches of ice which our head torches were illuminating well ahead. It didn't take long to reach the footpath below Wansfell Pike which was blocked by a fallen tree.

Thankfully there was no need to duck under sighting a newly formed path off to the right. Underfoot, the ground was frozen solid, confirmed by the hollow sound it made when I gave it a good tap with the tip of my walking pole. Such was the mildness that we stopped here for a few moments whilst David de-layered and I took in the view over Ambleside.

Given the amount of time we had between leaving Ambleside and reaching Wansfell Pike summit, we had deliberately taken our time during our ascent, stopping to watch the sky lighten or chat about whatever was on our minds.

By the time the summit appeared, there were still forty minutes before sunrise, so we knocked it down another gear and set our pace to crawl. With about twenty minutes to go, we reached the stone wall below the summit, from where we got our first view of the colours of dawn, which spiked the butterflies in me, having ascended under the cover of darkness and the half-light.

We dropped into Low Skelghyll, passing folk coming from the opposite direction, at which point I counted nine currently standing on Wansfell Pike summit to our north. Cloud finally caught up with is and began to fill in as we ascended between Low and High Skelghyll, where we passed a fell runner and then a family in the farmyard before crossing a semi-frozen Hol Beck, watched on by a family who in turn, mirrored our crossing boot for boot. We entered Skelghyll Woods, from where I took this photo overlooking Windermere as more cloud began to obscure the sunlight. The woodland track was busy with dog walkers and couples, and pleasantries were nodded as we passed them.

Passing the path bound for Wansfell Pike via Skelghyll Wood, we were reminded of the last time we were here during an epic route which included summiting Wansfell Pike before crossing Kirkstone Pass to explore Woundale and St Raven's Edge and then up onto Red Screes before the final descent to Ambleside via Snarker Pike. I still hold a lot of memories from that day and despite everything we did, funnily enough, one of my main memories was the ascent through the Skelghyll Wood. Our frozen woodland path began to weave its way down into Ambleside eventually giving way to a steep tarmac decline where we were brought back to reality by the smell of woodsmoke and the sound of traffic travelling along the A591 below.