Against Paula's wishes, I planned to meet up with David and Rod. The forecast wasn't great with rain through the morning clearing by midday so we brought forward a walk we'd been shelving for various reasons and arranged to meet at the parking spaces near Darling How Farm, Whinlatter. I arrived at 6:45am to find David and Rod already there almost ready for the off. We greeted each other with our usual "morning". David immediately noticed how croaky I sounded, so I told them that "man flu" still had a firm grip on me while trying to keep a reasonable distance away so as not to pass it on. It was dry, a mild-ish start to the morning with little to no wind at valley level though we could hear the wind in the tree tops that boarded the car park. We locked the cars a few minutes later and began the short walk towards Darling How Farm.

With more height gained the wind strengthened sending the temperature plummeting not quite into windchill figures, but not far off. The hillside was still recovering from recent rain, and we picked our way around the worst of the bog while the gradient gradually eased as we approached the summit. By the time we reached the shelter it was blowing a hooley.

Even though it wasn't raining yet, hoods were raised and cords drawn, if only to keep the chill out. It's been an incredible eight years since I last stood on Brown How's summit, and as I looked around I couldn't help but recall that the conditions back then were strikingly similar to what we have this morning.

We used the edge of the woodland as a shelter before making a break for Lord's Seat silently not quite believing how in current conditions we may as well have been on Skiddaw's summit and not the lowley heights of Lord's Seat. We broke from the tree line, crossed over a rather rickety wooden stile and crested Lord's Seat, with wind and rain gusting from the west it was no place to hang around so as quickly as we'd arrived we left even forgetting to take a photo.

We dropped from the summit and joined the interlinking grassy ridge towards Broom Fell where the wind and rain was unrelenting. Non of us had made the effort to stop to add waterproof over-trousers and within minutes our trousers were soaked through.

We were passed by legendary fell runner Sabrina Verjee, who in June 2021 set the record for completing all 214 Wainwrights in five days, 23 hours and 49 minutes. I recognised her instantly and would urge anyone to purchase a copy of 'Where There's a Hill'

It was too late to add the over-trousers but myself and David slid them on over soaking trousers anyway whist uttering the words 'no point closing the barn door after the horse has bolted' circled around in my head. I also added my packs rain cover but again, it was far too late, my pack was soaked through.

We crossed Widow Hause where we spotted only the second person we'd seen all morning, a young lad descending from Greystones who kindly let us cross the wire fence on the lower slope with a cheery "morning." We hit the steep gradient in good stead, but it wasn't long before I felt my chest tightening again. I let David and Rod pull ahead without them noticing and made it up once the incline eased. We reached Greystones summit and soon sparked into conversation about global news something we're all very much on the same page about and in the swirling mist, we put the world to rights.

I felt quietly thankful to be exactly where I was at that moment, and I'm sure David and Rod felt the same. We turned heel and began our descent, taking care as the slope steepened, while David pointed out the trod that would lead us down onto the forestry track below. The mood turned jovial, and Rod and I shared a laugh when David announced he was "about to remove his trousers" what he meant was his over-trousers. Still, Rod and I laid into him for the rest of the descent.

We reached the forestry track where David did indeed strip off his over-trousers and we continued down, shortcutting the track via a grassy trod that in places overflowed with water but was easy enough to negotiate. We rejoined the main track which, after several twists, brought us back towards Darling How. We passed a couple heading into the valley and I glanced back, half expecting the usual blue skies to be breaking through now that we were nearing the end of the walk. But Broom Fell and Lord's Seat were still buried in cloud.