Blencathra and Sharp Edge

We were so lucky as we woke up to a glorious sunny morning with a promising weather forecast that predicted calm conditions, perfect for walking—especially with Sharp Edge in prospect. Deke was the only one who had done Sharp Edge before and he was encouraging us all that it would be no problem.

I felt reassured but still nervous as we drove from Keswick to our starting point at Scales Farm. True enough, the clouds were few and far between. We prepared and set off, intrepid walkers banded together in anticipation. The walk began gently enough, climbing steadily in sunshine towards Scales Fell, though it steepened on the haul up to Mousthwaite Comb.

We made our way over the first ridge and only then, while walking along the River Glenderamackin, did the target of our fears come into view: our first sight of Sharp Edge.

Darn it, cloud was rising from Scales Tarn below and spilling right over the crest! I thought to myself: "I hope that clears before we make the attempt to cross the precipitous ridge."

Fortunately, the cloud lifted and cleared from Sharp Edge just as we reached Scales Tarn. We all set off towards the first real obstacle at Brunt Knott, with Steve in the lead and the rest of us in a line behind him.

Just as I reached it, Steve emerged back over the knott on his way down: "I have just had a look and I am not doing that," were his exact words. I tried to encourage him: "I am not exactly easy about doing it either, but we have come this far. We have just got to do it now." It was to no avail—he did not even pause as he headed back down to Scales Tarn.

What had Steve seen? A little worryingly, I wondered—but I moved onwards behind Chris and Ally, who were reviewing what lay ahead. As Steve met Dave on his way down to the tarn, what he said was enough to put my brother off too. Together, they headed around Scales Tarn to walk up the gentler side of the fell to the summit, while the remaining quartet carried on across Sharp Edge.

Chris and Ally led the way towards Foule Crag while Deke and I lingered on the crest. With Deke's calm reassurances, I lost all sense of trepidation and began thoroughly enjoying myself out on the edge.

As I rounded Brunt Knott and took in the ridge proper, I really couldn't see what had spooked Steve. Yes, the only real option is staying directly on the crest of the slate ridge—which would be treacherous in wet, greasy, or icy conditions—but the visibility was crystal clear and the rock was bone dry.

In fact, it felt more secure than Striding Edge had on my very first crossing. And so I began my traverse with no qualms at all, Chris and Ally just ahead of me and Deke right behind.

I have to say, I found crossing Sharp Edge to be a doddle—thrilling, airy, and magnificent. I stopped on the narrowest part of the knife-edge and sat down to capture the occasion in my mind's eye.

While I sat, Deke caught up and joined me. Taking in the immense drop and the views, Deke picked up three small stones and performed a juggling act on the very crest of Sharp Edge! I shuffled forward to photograph his high-level routine before we took another quiet moment to absorb the setting.

The narrow slate slabs end abruptly at the foot of Foule Crag, which steepens the higher you climb. Foule Crag has to be scrambled; hands and feet are essential until the crest is gained and the summit plateau of Blencathra is reached.

Although it is an energetic scramble, it never felt precarious to me—nowhere near as exposed as Jack's Rake on Pavey Ark. Once the scramble was conquered, we rested on the grassy plateau just below the summit while Deke made his way up to join us.

The rigour of crossing Sharp Edge and climbing Foule Crag, combined with the steep descent of Nab Scar to Rydal the previous day, left me with one unwelcome souvenir: my right knee was completely shot.

After reaching the summit of Blencathra and reuniting with Steve and Dave, we began our descent towards Threlkeld via Knowe Crags and Blease Fell. For me, walking downhill was absolute murder—I am forever indebted to Chris for hanging back and keeping me going. At around 500m, Steve bandaged my knee tightly to add support, which helped immensely.

We finished our return to Scales Farm along the lovely contouring track beneath Blencathra, even sliding the final steep grassy field on our backsides—very funny and warmly remembered. A truly fantastic mountain day that conquered an old fear!