I was still shivering when I passed on my "morning" to David explaining that I'd driven through thick fog from Preston onwards. It only cleared on the A66 somewhere between the Penruddock and Scales - the contrast couldn't have been greater. Now we were looking at clear skies brushed with the mellow colours of dawn, sunrise only ten minutes away. After my Meindl Bhutans had started letting in water, I'd treated myself to a new pair of AKU Superalp boots, and I was proudly showing them off to David. Like me, he was impressed by the wide rubber band encasing the boot. Rod has owned a pair of Superalp's for an incredible five years, and after weeks of reading reviews I finally decided to treat myself.

Putting our thinking caps on we back-tracked to a rocky platform where it was agreed to put our spikes on. I descended first quickly realising that I couldn't ascend the gully without removing my pack so I de-shouldered and pushed it up towards the top the gully soon followed by my walking poles before squeezing through - an action that David repeated after passing me his pack. Had we not had our spikes with us today I honestly don't think we would have been able to continue safely.

We only had the summit to ourselves for a minute or so before two women appeared. After exchanging pleasantries, it quickly became clear what a comical pair they were. I probably shouldn't repeat what one of them accidentally said while wrestling with her gloves, but it certainly broke the ice, and soon we were laughing together as if we'd known each other for years.

With the top of the Blease Fell zigzags reached, we began our descent, drifting in and out of cloud but predominantly in sunshine. We'd only passed three or four walkers on the zigzags, spotting two more on the fellside below, taking the steep incline in their stride along with their dog. We exchanged a quick "morning" and continued commenting on how we'd forgotten just how steep Blease Fell can feel at times, though the sense of descending in warm spring sunshine somehow made me forget the gradient. We soon reached Blease Road, where we passed two large walking groups - one in ascent while the other waited by a nearby gate. It had been ages since I'd seen anyone wearing a sun hat, but one of the walkers had one on, a fair reflection of the warmth we were now enjoying.

We joined Blease Road, often stepping aside to let cars pass, drivers who were soon to be disappointed, as the car park was full. Oddly, none of them came back past us. Sunlight filtered through the tree canopy, and for the first time in a year it genuinely felt like spring had arrived. Warm sunshine, Lapwings, and Lambs accompanied us, along with one local gent sitting on the front step of his cottage in a T-shirt, taking in an uninterrupted view of Clough Head and the cloud inversion. We didn't disturb him with a "morning" and instead passed quietly.The village of Threlkeld was soon reached, its roadsides flanked by daffodils and snowdrops and it was nowhere near as busy as we'd anticipated. After passing the Primary School, we took one last look back over the rooftops towards Blencathra, its summit now buried beneath cloud that thinned as it lowered down the lower ridges - and beyond that, deep blue sky.