I carried on through and up to Ravens Castle, Great Harlow and Thistle Hill. A frustrating addition of 3 relatively unassuming tops, reminiscent of Fairfield on the Bob, only far worse, Thistle Hill involved a 10m swim for goodness sake. Still with 18 miles to go, I got up and down with a spring in my step knowing the irreplaceable Ian Roberts was waiting with a warm van and with an even warmer soup back at COG. I allowed myself 10 minutes to feed and warm up , I was soaked to the skin and shaking quite uncontrollably. Leg 2 done.
After one last slice of bread, I made the long trudge back up White Hill, I set myself the challenge of running the whole way up. Setting smaller challenges encompassed by the bigger challenge is something I often do, when you’re staring down the barrel I find any little success can lift the spirits. Though woe betide if I don’t succeed. I knew the crossing from White Hill to Wolfhole Crag would be the toughest miles of the day, though spurred on by the fact John Ockenden was waiting for me up there and the fact I would be on my home fells I trundled on. Now noticeably slowing.
I met John just south of summit and despite a quick fire bout of 3 rounds of cramp almost immediately after we joined forces (he must’ve been thinking what a prima donna), we then made good time to the ironically named Brennand Great Hill, picking up Rich Mellon on the way. I was now with 2 of the best nav men in the game, though they were less than impressed with my “fool proof” way of determining the true summit of this unmarked Fell *.