Scarfell April 1995

Scarfell April 1995

Crisp snow, sunshine,
Were we walking all that time?
End in sight, peak in view,
Ought to take the pack from you,
Very tired, out of breath,
So will rely on strength of youth

Long time since we did this, you and I,
I was fitter then and you were only eleven,
Now you’re into manhood and me to middle age,
We seem to have missed your growing up,
With time slipping so quickly by,

At last the summit,
Did not think that we would do it,
5pm early April,
Cloudless sky and oh what a thrill,
The best time ever to the top of Scarfell
And a short while in which to revel.

A drink and an apple,
Whilst we gaze on the mantle,
Then with one last look,
We plod down the summit rocks,
Across the sloping snow field,
To the distant ruined bield,

The Langdale pikes in view below,
And another snow field cross which to go,
Melt water sparkling into gully,
A chance to stop and strength to rally,
And push on towards Angle Tarn, where,
In the lengthening shadows and breathless air,
We meet a slightly disoriented couple,
Who wonder if they will be in time for supper,
At the Old Hotel’s Walkers Bar,

My son elects to run down the pass,
To secure a meal for the four of us,
Scampering down the fellside in the darkening sky,
While the three of us amble on by,
Hot meals and pints of foaming beer
Are waiting for us when we get there.

And the next day?
Feet are sore and legs full of stiffness,
So a boat on Windermere from Bowness,
Comes into play.