Part 1 - Getting lost at the start.
Ofcourse this being the Lakes we had to buy some Ginger Bread from Grassmere, which took longer than anticipated. So we arrived at Coniston later than usual. It was about 13:00 but we had plenty of daylight left and the forecast was for excellent weather. So after a quick use of the facilities we made a start.
And got lost.
Well we do it a lot, not even GPS helps, but we can manage it in any town or village you can name. So we headed towards a likely looking mountain and found a road (yes a road, not a footpath, a road) that was sooo steep mountain goats were looking at it and shaking their heads. At the bottom was the wreckage of several 4x4s so I suppose it was good for something.
Now I like to get gently warmed up on the lower slopes and this was far from that but it was a good indicator of what was to come. Still after 400 yards or so we reached a plateau and the first path that would lead us the wrong way. If you look at the map in the message above we took the path going right between Dixon and Foul Scrow, so we did a clockwise circuit.
In theory this path would take up a small ascent to join the regular footpath at Miners Bridge, but why should such a simple thing like that stand in our way? The path eventually split into several paths and we obviously took the wrong one. Now following the "never go back unless you have to" rule we plodded on through marshy land until we rejoined the regular path. So a little bit soggy but none the worse for it we followed the now obvious path past The Bell and Stubthwaite Crag.
Following this path it obvious that quarrying of some kind is continuing and that the Old Man has seen plenty of human activity. Looking up at the first of the steeper parts near Colt Crag my realisation was that this was much harder than anything I had done before and that rather than starting at several hundred meters above sea level, we started pretty much at sea level, so the full 800+ meters was to be ascended. Oh well, on we trotted until we found a place for a quick bite to eat.
Whilst eating, one of a school party passed us (the guy in the white t-shirt) streaming sweat. He paused to take a look at the summit of the Old Man and said "Oh blimey" - or something like that anyway. Made us grin at least.
This is one of the parts Wainwright complained about. Quarrying has been done here for many years, which has left lots of slippy plates of slate on the ground and it does make this approach rather hard going (it's almost likely skating up, you go a bit forward then slip a bit back). One compensation though is the remaining buildings which, though obviously ruins now, are a never ending source of surprise.
We took another pit stop at Low Water where the School Party stopped (wusses) and started the final ascent up the so called Tourists Path. This is a steep climb, thankfully fairly free of moving slate but steep and rocky enough. Still you do get a very nice view when you can sit yourself down for a minute.
So on we pressed. The climb getting steeper, I'd never hit anything like this before ever, I thought we were doing something wrong - well everyone who passed us was using this way to go down, not up! Cursing myself for under estimating the steepness I carried on up the final scramble.
Finally I could see the top, the now none existant path reared it's head again, 20m away up a 10m climb. Finally!
Then it happened.
Something I'd hoped would never happen and took every protection against that I knew.
I was sat, legs jammed in holding my position waiting for someone coming down to pass.
My tired legs caught fire, I was in huge pain as the muscles in my thighs all cramped up together.
I couldn't move.
As I sat there waiting for the pain to subside I had to think, do I call mountain rescue?