Fellside

Chapter 3

The following day is bright and warm.  Simon has a protein shake, and mid-morning sets off up the valley away from the farm.  He has mapped out a 12k circuit from the farmhouse and transferred it onto his watch.  It starts with a gentle path running towards the head of the valley before turning left steeply up towards a ridge.  The path is clear, and a few walkers are out. 

The route follows a gully up the side of the fell, and the ground underfoot is dry and rocky.  Heather textures the surrounding slopes with a red-brown colour.  The air is clear.  Sheep scatter about, but there isn’t much grass for them here.  He climbs steadily, the sun on his face, his legs fit and fresh.  At the ridge the slope eases, the path going to the right rising towards the fell top and the Helvellyn ridge beyond.  At the top he stops to catch his breath and take in the space around him.  The sun is bright but he notices mist collecting in the valley below.  High fells are clearly visible against the sky, sitting above a gentle layer of candy-floss cloud in the valleys.  Turning back he retraces his path down the ridge, carrying on this time to take a track across the top of the common.

As he starts to descend the mist thickens, and he checks his watch.  According to the map a number of paths cross this area, but some are indistinct, sheep tracks.  It is boggy here, and the route much harder to pick out.  After a few minutes the path he is on has gone altogether, and he is following the line on his watch as far as he can.  The ground is an ankle-turning mess of tufty grass, water, and deep moss, slowing progress to a walk.   It is cooler in the mist, and his feet are wet.  Occasionally the mist clears, and although he doesn’t recognise the valley beneath him he is confident of his direction.  The mist closes in again and he reaches the side of a stream.  The route takes him the other side of the stream but the water here is running fast through a small gorge and there’s nowhere obvious to cross, so he carries on, trying to stay close to the stream.  200 metres further down he reaches a clear path, but it is heading away from the line he wants.  Visibility drops to a few metres, sheep appear and disappear.  There is a figure ahead, perhaps a man walking ahead of him, but Simon can’t see him clearly, and he disappears.   The cloud is like a new thick blanket, but one that is damp and cold, that leaches warmth and security out of him rather than offering it.  A chill wind creates gaps in the cloud and shapes come and go.  There is someone ahead of him again, but he can’t see clearly.  He calls out, but his voice is absorbed into the fog and there’s no reply.  

He passes the remains of an old stone structure and shortly after starts to head uphill.  He realises he can’t hear the stream any more, he can’t hear anything; and he loses any sense of direction.  There is no contour change on his map.   He stops to check his bearings, now more than a hundred metres away from his route.  The terrain in that direction is difficult, but the path he is on is heading uphill and the wrong way.  It is still early in the day, and although he is cold and wet the best option might be to wait for the cloud to lift.  But there’s no guarantee that it will.   He hears a squelching sound ahead, as if someone is picking their way through through the moss.  He crosses the few yards towards the sound, but it is a sheep, sheltering in a hollow, and again there is the unnatural silence.  He looks back, and can’t now see the path that he was on.  The only feature is the green, uneven slope.  He could turn and head straight down hill into the valley, but there are crags about somewhere. 

The air clears a bit and the figure reappears about 20 metres away.  He recognises lan, the farmer, who half turns towards him, and then starts walking back in the direction Simon has come from.  He calls out, and starts to follow the man, but he makes no sign of hearing and carries on, crossing the tufts of moss and grass and pools of water.  It isn’t a path but the ground is a bit easier.  It feels suddenly warmer, and although the mist is still thick it is hugging the hillside and the sun is starting to show above.  It is clear enough for Simon to follow, and the man walks steadily, confidently, not turning back.

“Hi, Ian”, Simon calls out.  But he shows no sign of having heard.  They reach the corner of an old sheep fold that Simon recognises from earlier, and the figure changes direction, heading left through a slightly firmer section of ground.  The stream is ahead of them, but here the land is flatter and it is easy to cross, the water up to Simon’s knees.  He looks ahead, and there is a clear path.  According to his watch he is now back on his route; and the mist starts to clear.  Gradually the fellside comes back into view.  Below him only a few hundred metres away is a clump of trees, and beyond it is the road.  There is no sign of the farmer, who has vanished with the mist.

Back at the farm Simon showers and takes a sandwich out onto the yard behind the barn.  There’s a picnic table and a wooden bench.  The fellside looks easy and friendly in the sunlight.  A woman walks past heading for the farmhouse, a small boy tottering beside her.  Noticing Simon she picks up the boy in her arms and comes over.

“Hello.  Have you settled in OK?”

“Yes, fine, thanks.”  He looks at the boy.  “Hello.”

The boy blushes and looks away.

“This is Connor.  I’m Louse.”  She smooths his hair down and the boy smiles up at her. “Ian says that you are a fell runner.”

“Yes.”  He nods towards the hills behind.  “I went up this morning, but nearly got caught out by the mist.”

“It can come down quickly.  But you found the path OK?”

“I bumped into lan on the fellside, he pointed me in the right direction.”

She frowns.  “It wasn’t lan, he went into Keswick this morning, isn’t back yet.  It must have been a walker.”

Simon shakes his head.  “I guess it could have been, but it looked exactly like Ian.”

She pauses, and looks away, nervously scratching her chin.  “I guess it might have been Nick; Ian’s brother.  He is sometimes seen on the fellside, but he hasn’t been around for a while.  Did he say anything?”

“No, and he just vanished as the cloud lifted.”

She shrugs.  “Anyway, I’d better get on.  Shout if you need anything.’