My aim was Wainwright 74, the Black Combe (Wainwright Fells), but when I got to the top of White Combe and saw how forbidding Black Combe looked, I decided to leave it for another day.
Then I couldn't find the way back, probably because I got distracted by a great heap of stones seemingly the summit marker but actually a demolished shelter.
Finally after much cursing and worrying I discovered the route only to meet the first people I'd seen on White Combe, two women and about six young children, and they were climbing.
I pointed out that we were running out of light. They said they knew what they were doing. I could have replied "if only I did", but I just went on.
Jonathan Brind