It's getting to that time of year when it's still dark as I leave home, and nearing the Eskdale side of the Birker Fell Road I stopped to capture the sun rising above the Dunnerdale Fells.

It's been some time since I last walked with Tim. Back in June we'd arranged a walk, but we were rained off so we set a new date for August with no particular route in mind. During the first week of August we were texting again about where to walk, and Tim replied that he'd like to return to Great Gable via the Climbers Traverse. I jumped at the chance, replying, "What a route," while secretly thinking, why on earth didn't I think of that myself. Back in March 2017 we'd watched two walkers ascend from Little Hell Gate onto the narrow grassy arete linking Great Napes with Great Gable simply known as the Ridge and over time it had completely slipped my mind. The day was set; all we needed was a half-decent forecast. It deteriorated slightly during the week, but not enough to put us off so we arranged to meet at Wasdale Head car park at 7:00am.

I arrived first, closely followed by Tim who had followed me along the lake road, great timing. Tim parked alongside my car and after a man hug and a quick catch up, we set about kitting up in the cool morning air. Tim, as always, had come prepared in his fell running kit, wisely adding walking poles, while I kitted up pair of us not quite looking like the team we actually were. Fluffy white clouds dawned the sky and over Great Gable there was nothing but blue sky. From the car park we were able to plot our route through the Napes using finger and pole. Napes Needle looked as daunting from down here as it would up close, so the plan was simple: explore but keep it safe. We both knew our limits and were well aware how greasy the rock might be after the heavy rainfall that marked the end of this summer's fifth heatwave. We swept our car boots making sure we had everything, locked up, and left the car park towards Lingmell House.

A straight line is the shortest distance between two points. This route is straightest and therefore most direct ascent in Lakeland. It is also the steepest - a relentless and unremitting treadmill, a turf clutching crawl, not a walk, There are only three opportunities of standing upright, three heaven-sent bits of horizontal, before the slope eases into the summit plateau. Alfred Wainwright - KIRK FELL 4

After passing Lingmell House, deep in conversation and eager to hit the fell side. We paid a visit to Joss Naylor's grave at St Olaf's Church, seen hidden within the ancient Yew trees in the centre of the photo.

A pair of Joss's Walsh fell running trainers lay at the foot of his gravestone, the very same trainers Joss ran the 60 at 60 (60 Lakeland peaks at 60 years old)

The forecast mentioned there'd be cloud capping the summits around Wasdale Head which was true to form topped off with high level cloud which should clear during the course of the morning.

We're heading straight for Sty Head via the footpath seen climbing to the left, or at least we thought we were.

It was great to see blue skies over Great Gable as we passed below Great Napes. From this angle it looks like a mass of unclimbable buttresses and gullies, yet the Napes are hugely popular with climbers as is Napes Needle, seen off to the right. The gully dividing White Napes from Great Napes on the left is Little Hell Gate, today's ascent route onto the summit.

With Middleboot Knotts, Round How seen foreground and Scafell Pike partially in cloud beyond.

With views towards Yewbarrow, Red Pike and the steep slope of Kirk Fell over on the right.

Instead of heading straight for Sty Head we left the path and made a steep, direct ascent towards Lower Kern Knotts.

We reached the base of Lower Kern Knotts but still had another 180 feet of steep ascent to climb before we reached the Climbers Traverse.

Wainwright referred to the cave as "the last watering hole until Aaron Slack" and once you were suitably watered it also acted as a great shelter should you ever need it.

Dominated by Tophet Bastion.

Great Hell Gate is the first choice of many an walker, ascending alongside the imposing Tophet Bastion before making an equally steep pull onto the ridge via Hell Gate Pillar seen upper left.

With The Band and Great End in the distance.

Although I'd been here before, it had been a while and I'd researched the route extensively. The plan was to summit Great Gable only, leaving us enough time for a bit of exploration.

We left Great Hell Gate and continued along the traverse, soon arriving at Needle Gully. The traverse passes through the gully, but we wanted to ascend as far into the gully as possible… conditions, however, weren't on our side.

We left the travese and climbed to the base of Napes Needle.

Our ascent took us over scree, boulders, and a series of greasy rock ledges that began to trigger a silent alarm in me: only climb what you're able to descend safely. That same alarm seemed to transfer to Tim, who had just negotiated a chocked boulder and was ascending a run of steep, ledges below the base of the Needle.

Still in good spirits and not wanting to spoil the enjoyment, I let Tim know my concerns about the greasy rock, flanked by wet grassy ledges.

We were well and truly in the gully now; ahead, the gully narrowed, hemmed in by vertical rock and beyond that, cloud. We stood at the base of the Needle with the Dress Circle on the opposite side of the gully, an area of the Napes I'd really wanted to visit. To reach the Dress Circle required crossing a rock wall, at its base a narrow ledge about three feet wide.

The ledge needed a few feet of ascent to reach it, and although the rock looked dry, it was damp underfoot. I persevered until I was almost across, but was stopped by a jutting wall of rock. With damp rock beneath me, limited space to my right, and fresh air to my left, I turned back knowing it was the right thing to do, even if I felt disappointed not to have captured the shot I wanted.

I returned to Tim and we watched the cloud close in before arriving at the decision that we needed to descend Needle Gully in case the cloud caught up with us.

We began our descent, both deciding to throw our walking poles ahead of the rock steps landing a good twenty feet below. I went first, chatting to Tim who was only a few feet behind and a few minutes later we retrieved our poles before negotiating the chocked boulder which hid a narrow cave with both an entrance and an exit to it, mind you. The hole was only large enough for a small adult, and even then I wouldn't fancy my chances.

Before arriving back on the Climbers Traverse we climbed a lower section of the Dress Circle when it seemed to brighten up but our postion meant we still didnt have the shot of needle we wanted.

…but we were still too low to get the perfect shot, and with time ticking by and the cloud closing in, we decided to return to the traverse and make our way towards Little Hell Gate.

From the Climbers Traverse.

Napes Needle is just in view beyond Needle Gully far right with the Cat / Sphinx Rock seen far left.

We continued along the Traverse until we arrived at Little Hell Gate. The trouble was, our earlier explorations had left us too high to enter the gully without a down-climb, so we back tracked until the traverse levelled out and made a descent towards it. Little Hell Gate looked just as intimidating as Great Hell Gate, but more in a adrenaline fuelled way. As soon as we entered the gully, Tim joked, "For the foreseeable, the only thing you're going to see is my arse."

We began our ascent, Tim leading first, before realising it was best to leave a gap between us to allow for any rockfall. While waiting for him, I spotted two walkers on the traverse below who had arrived from the Beck Head side. Tim stopped ahead and I began my ascent and about halfway in I sent a rock crashing down towards the traverse. I shouted "Rock!" and all three of us watched it come to a stop a good eighty feet above the walkers. I could do nothing about it but for a moment there, a bit of wee nearly came out.

With Wasdale Head seen through the cloud.

Tim and I continued with our routine, leaving considerable gaps between ascents until we were able to climb via grassy ledges nestled below the walls of the gully. Ahead, the rock island came into view, and beyond that, the summit crags of Great Gable.

We passed the rock island as we veered right towards the grassy ridge, Tim stumbling across a faint trod. "F-ing hell, Paul I've found a motorway!" he shouted. Tim stopped to record a video on his GoPro while I continued my ascent, reaching the ridge and what felt like a pivotal point in my time on the Lakeland fells.

I arrived at the ridge with butterflies performing loop-the-loops in my stomach. I'd wanted to stand at this spot for some time, and although cloud was about to engulf us, it didn't spoil the moment.

With Great Hell Gate and Hell Gate Pillar seen left.

In the short time it took us to cross the ridge, we were engulfed by cloud, accompanied by a notable drop in temperature.

We crossed the ridge and began our ascent towards the summit, stepping onto the shoulder in near-zero visibility such the thickness of the cloud. We passed two walkers descending onto the ridge, but they were well off the path; I just hoped they knew what they were letting themselves in for. We broke the shoulder and, through the cloud the summit crags came into view. We arrived at the summit moments after Tim, kissing two forefingers before tapping the summit plinth.

It was cold now and we were still in single base layers, sunglasses propped on top of our heads. Nevertheless, we stopped for a quick fuel break and a chat. Two girls approached from the direction of Windy Gap and, while pointing towards the cairn, asked if this was the summit. To be fair, the visibility was so low I didn't blame them for asking. Two more walkers arrived but placed themselves on the far side of the summit and by then I was feeling the chill so we decided it was time to leave.

We left the summit and followed the succession of cairns which, in this visibility came in very handy. A father and son duo passed us in ascent, both offering their morning's their hair damp with mist. At times we were deep in conversation; at others we were fully focused on the steep, loose path that demanded care. It was during one of the quieter moments that I heard the sound of rock shifting. I had my back to Tim and thought nothing of it until a yelp made me turn. Tim was almost horizontal. He'd performed two full rolls in front of me, and possibly two more before I'd spun around coming to a stop almost at my feet. In shock, Tim sprang upright, checking that nothing was broken. Thankfully, nothing was but his left hand had been gashed open, the skin peeled back and packed with grit from the base of his thumb across his palm. Tim's left elbow and forearm was also cut in several places. I grabbed his shoulders and sat him down. You're okay, mate are you alright? Tim held out his hand.

The wound was ugly. Tim asked if I had any plasters. I joked that I had the best plasters in the world, but his wound needed a bandage. I de-shouldered, took out my first aid kit, tipped the contents onto the ground, and got to work. I needed to clean the wound, but I had no water - nothing. So I guzzled a mouthful of summer fruit juice from my bite valve and told Tim to think warm thoughts. I spat the juice over the wound with such force it wouldn't need doing a second time. I pulled my sleeve down and tapped the wound dry, then unravelled a bandage, drawing it up and over the thumb and wrist before taking out my scissors to cut two lengths at the end of the bandage to tie it off. It was at that moment I noticed my hands were shaking. My first aid kit was strewn across the ground, and that's when I spotted not one but two rolls of bandage tape. Just then, the two girls from the summit descended past us. One asked if we were okay, and I replied, "Aye - we've had a little tumble." They left us to it, and as they walked away I heard one of them say they never think about carrying bandages. With the bandage taped off around Tim's wrist, he thanked me and we shared a laugh between a strange mix of relief and adrenaline before stuffing what was left of my first aid kit back into my pack, noticing the rock below where Tim had been sat was covered in blood.

Slow and easy.

We continued our descent. I couldn't imagine the pain and discomfort Tim was in, yet he insisted on holding his walking pole in his injured hand to steady himself on the loose ground. What a trooper.

Our descent took longer than normal. At a point when all you're thinking about is getting down, you have to tell yourself to slow the pace - not just because of the steep ground, but because neither of us needed another accident. We joked about it, but the truth sat there all the same. We reached Beck Head, Tim arriving first and finding himself a boulder to perch on until I caught up. I stopped and emptied half a dozen stones from my boot and for some reason I was experiencing stomach and leg cramps which travelled from my left heal across the base of my back and back down the right leg. I mentioned it to Tim, who asked, deadpan, "Do you need a crap Paul" I laughed off the best reply only a bloke could ge away with. We began the descent from Beck Head in warm sunshine, passing just one fellow in ascent before reaching the grassy ridge of Gavel Neese. Tim was in good spirits, though I knew he was in pain. I ignored the cramps, and I suspect Tim ignored the pain in his hand - spotting the blood seeping through the bandage I said nothing.

Under midday sunshine we descended Gavel Neese, and I could have kicked myself for missing out on Moses' Finger which I only spotted when I looked back from further below. I cursed myself. We reached the intake wall, where I stopped to take a picture. Car windscreens glowed simultaneously like a giant torch, and it didn't seem fair that reality was so close. We crossed Gable Beck and joined the track towards Burnthwaite, passing masses of folk on the outward, french bread sticks poking out of bags-for-life. I couldn't blame them - what a great afternoon it was turning out to be. We passed through Burnthwaite Farm and joined the track towards Wasdale Head, more walkers heading out as we made our way back. We arrived at a bustling car park and began our kit-down. The hustle of cars arriving and cars leaving filled the place, yet somehow it still felt quiet. I put my arms around Tim and thanked him for a great day. Tim looked up then down at his bandaged hand, and thanked me again warmly. I knew he meant it but I still couldn't get over how good my handywork looked, so I asked Tim for a picture just in case Paula didn't believe me.