The path continued along the river and through the miscellaneous debris of the extensive slate quarries in the area. At one point Captain Mo wandered off the obvious path, and onto a rough track next to a huge pile of quarry spoil. I thought he wanted to get a photo of the hills further down the valley, but it turned out that he intended continuing along a dodgy looking path into the quarry area itself. I thought it best if I temporarily led them through the quarry site, and ten minutes later, we stood at a crossroads of tracks, with one of the tracks leading us upwards on to Lingmoor Fell. I gave Mo the Captaincy back and he started rustling through his maps again. He got out his £3.20 Ebay compass, and despite its massive air bubble, that reduced its accuracy to plus or minus 90 degrees, he still struggled to determine our proper route. I showed him how he could use the nearby house to orientate his map to the landscape, but even after that, he still couldn't work out which path we should take. There was nothing for it. Captain Mo was clearly not in control of his mental faculties, and I had to relieve him of his command. I didn't like doing this in front of the Cabin Boy (who had been so recently promoted as Chief Map Holder), but I had their own safety to consider. I didn't actually rip off his Captain's epaulettes, because he didn't have any, but I made it very clear that I was now Captain. 

It was a solemn team that set off up the hillside to Lingmoor Fell. The ex-Captain and Cabin Boy (demoted from Chief Map Holder, since I didn't require one) dragged their feet as they walked 20 metres behind me.

Lingmoor Fell

A light shower hit us as we climbed Lingmoor Fell's broad ridge. Waterproofs came on but the rain was only short lived. Mist clung to the tops of the Coniston Fells on the other side of the Little Langdale valley. It wasn't long before we stood beside Lingmoor Fell's summit cairn admiring the superb all-around views. Looking towards Side Pike, I could see a man with a couple of border collies walking towards us. We dropped from the summit to get out of the wind, and we had a short break. The ex-Captain was still sulking a bit and preferred to stand up, rather than sit down with the rest of the team.

After the break we dropped down Lingmoor Fells southwest flank and followed a path that ran alongside a gill, to the road. Further down the path, I saw the man whom I'd seen earlier with his two dogs, coming up our path. It turned out that he was a farmer rounding up his sheep. As he approached, I said that it must be difficult rounding the sheep up with the trees and steep terrain. He said that it never got easier and that within 15 minutes we'd see all the sheep coming down the hillside near Side Pike. We could see his border collies dashing through the trees and bounding over the crags, following the farmer's calls. By the time we'd reached Blea Tarn, we could see a long line of sheep heading down the hill from Side Pike to the road. The farmer had been right, although it had taken him nearer 30 minutes, than 15.

Blea Tarn

We had our lunch sat on a bench near Blea Tarn. At least me and the Cabin Boy were sat on the bench; the ex-Captain was stood up and mooching around. I wondered if he really was sulking or, having just seen the Cabin Boy eating some purple grapes, I considered whether his piles had dropped. I was just about to ask him about the status of his piles when he called over to say that the farmer was now on an ATV and rounding up a stray sheep. I went over to have a look and forgot to ask him if he was suffering from any haemorrhoid issues.

The sun came out as we sat on the bench and illuminated a tree on the edge of the tarn. Perfection really. I mooted the idea of climbing Side Pike and got a muted response from the Cabin Boy. 'When ?' she muttered. 'How about sometime in May, 2026?' I offered. I interpreted her 'indefinite no' as a 'definite yes.'

We walked along the side of the wonderful Blea Tarn. On leaving the trees we saw our friend the farmer, approaching along the track on his ATV.  We stood to one side to let him go by, but he suddenly diverted off the track and on to the hillside heading up to the crags of Wrynose. His two dogs stood gingerly on the pillion seat as the ATV bumped across the ground. On Side Pike we could see small figures on the summit and some of its crags.

Side Pike

'We don't have to come down there, do we?' A couple of walkers were scrambling down a crag over to our south. I assured the Cabin Boy that we'd come down the same way as we went up, and so there wouldn't be any unpleasant surprises. Five minutes later though and the Cabin Boy announced that she was going no further and that she'd wait here for the rest of the crew to go up and down. She complained that her knees were hurting. I didn't like splitting the team, but patches of sun were breaking out over the Langdales, and the view from the top would be exceptional, and so me and Mo set off for the summit. The route up was a little craggier than expected, but there wasn't anything difficult. The views were indeed exceptional, and the sunlight did stick around long enough for us to get some nice photos of the surrounding illuminated landscape.

There are a few tracks criss-crossing Side Pike and, on the descent, we drifted too far south and on to some more difficult crags. This was probably where we saw the couple struggling to descend earlier. It was easy enough to contour around the hillside, to the stone wall on the north, and then make an easier descent. We picked up the Cabin Boy where we had left her, and then continued the walk down into the Great Langdale valley.

Return To Elterwater

Our route back to Elterwater followed the bottom of the Great Langdale Valley. An ominous rain cloud formed at the head of the valley, and we could see that it was gradually approaching. I fully expected to get soaked, but although it followed us, it never actually caught us up. Some walkers passing us in the opposite direction commented on the prospects of heading into this storm. It was relatively easy walking along the valley, and we were soon arrived back at the crossroads where I had to relieve Mo of his Captaincy. I did think of actually reinstating him for the last leg of our walk, since we only had to retrace our steps to Elterwater, but on consideration I didn't think his transient memory was up to the job today.

Lingmoor Fell, thrice in a year. I can't think of any other hill that I've been up three times in the last 12 months.  It offers superb walking though, and even if it was four or five times in a year, it would be a pleasure, rather than a chore. It was a shame about having to relieve Mo of his Captaincy, but I felt I may have been pushing his Captaincy training too hard on recent walks, and he probably crumbled under the pressure. I made a note to ease him more slowly into the role in future. As we drove out of the carpark a few smatterings of rain hit the car windscreen; the rain from the west had finally caught us up.