By foo.barstein
A hiking and camping trip to the Lake District began with a backpack inspection intended to minimize weight. Brian had packed an enormous quantity of sweets and argued that they were needed as “Emergency Rations.” A portion was allowed. After motoring north in Brian’s Triumph Herald, the first camp was set on a plateau. It rained all night, and in the morning the iron stakes holding the tent fly-cover seemed to be floating in pools of water. The next day the route climbed a valley with Scafell Pike to the left, aiming for a mountain pass in strong headwind and lashing rain. Energy drained away, hypothermia seemed a real worry, and a step into a small bog sank to the waist. Brian, with spectacles completely misted over, could not see what had happened. The pass was finally crossed and the descent made to the other side.