As if Helm Crag wasn't quite enough for us, we decided to make it a two-for-one deal and climb Silver How in the afternoon. Silver How is a modest little fell (395m, 1296ft) that provides a short and simple walk from Grasmere village. We only had two days and wanted to make the most of our weekend away.
Pete was uncharacteristically nervous and had been quiet all weekend. The weather was closing in a little, but I was strangely chilled and wanted to bag another Wainwright. It wouldn't take us long.
Once we'd gorged ourselves on pancakes for lunch at Emma's Deli in Grasmere, we followed the signs through Allan Bank, a National Trust property once inhabited by Wordsworth.
We were quickly up on the fellside, meandering through juniper bushes with views of Helm Crag in the distance. I looked for berries to squish (they smell of gin when you squish them) but it wasn't the right time of year.
Continuing onward and over a little beck that required a bit of scrambling to cross, the fell starts to become rather featureless: not a great place to be in low cloud if you don't know what you are doing.
It was pretty boggy up there too. Bog factor 6. Imagine trying to cross this when you can't see anything.
Once you've navigated the boggy plateau you reach a final steep ascent.
This takes you up to the summit, where the views open up rather incredibly beyond Grasmere and Rydal Water
In the opposite direction are equally glorious views towards Helvellyn. You can see the path we took below across 'The Dead Marshes' to Mordor.
We were the only hikers in sight, which often makes me nervous. Especially when I'm uncertain about the weather.
As you can see, the clouds were rolling in fast and whilst Pete petitioned for us to stay a little longer at the summit and have a snack and a hot drink, I insisted we get back down straight away, lest we get consumed by a foggy bog. He was insistent. I was insistent. He cracked first.
We sped back down to Grasmere before the rain came and survived our 11th Wainwright. In the evening we planned one more hike up to Easedale Tarn for the following day. A final hike before setting off home.
...
However, we hadn't checked the weather forecast and it was, to put it politely, shitting it down with rain the next morning.
"Let's not bother. Let's just go home." I said, looking dejected as we ate our breakfast.
"No. We decided we would go, so we are going," replied Pete.
He was extraordinarily insistent. This time I cracked first.
And so it was we found ourselves heading back along the Easedale Road, squelching in our boots as I repeated over and over again that this wasn't our best idea ever.
Thankfully, the hike to Easedale Tarn is beautiful. Even in a downpour. I've done it four times since.
Turning left off the Easedale Road to follow the sign above, we found ourselves on a stone path that ran alongside the stream.
Or at least, on a dry day it's alongside the stream.
That first day it was definitely part of the stream and we waded along it, up to our shins in fast-flowing water. There was so much water rushing through that we couldn't open the farm gate and had to vault it instead.
Exciting times.
Of course, I was worried that by the time we got back we wouldn't be able to pass this section at all and kept petitioning to turn around. But Pete was more determined than usual, so we pressed on. No-one else seemed to be doing the same. We were the only soggy idiots out.
Once we'd moved away from the stream, the walk became easier and less anxiety-inducing. We approached Sour Milk Ghyll in full force.
The steepest parts come very close to these stunning falls, that were raging down the hillside on such a wet day.
Then, just when you think you've reached the tarn, you see this:
So not quite there yet, then.
But eventually you end up alongside this glorious fall.
The roar of the water was deafening and soon after, the tarn does finally come into view.
Isn't it incredible?
I don't think I've ever seen it looking as beautiful as it did that first time.
The atmosphere was eerie and still with clouds hanging threateningly low. A heavy feeling in the air was broken only by the rain battering the surface of the tarn, ringing with a trillion percussive splashes that seemed to be amplified by the bowl shape of the fells around us. This truly was some ancient, magical part of Middle Earth.
Pete insisted we head a little further to the edge, finding a spot in the middle where I could mess around and dunk my GoPro in the water to try and capture the sound from underneath.
Post-dunk, I stood up, having managed not to fall in and, as I did so, I heard Pete say:
"Close your eyes and put your hands out, I've got something to give you."
Now, often when he does this, the thing he is about to give me is something disgusting - like a bogey, a bug or some fluff from his belly button. Imagining he'd found some gross creature or bit of soggy crap on the floor, I shut my eyes and squirmed, asking "Is it something gross?"
I felt something small drop into my hand and he told me to open my eyes.
It was a ring.
I looked at him. He looked at me.
I didn't understand what was happening. I initially thought he'd found it on the floor.
"Where did you ... ? "Is this... ?" "Are you ... ?" I spluttered.
"Yes, I'm asking you to marry me. Will you?"
Cue lots of crying and a big fat "Yes!"
"I can't really get on one knee because it's quite boggy here." he added.
But that didn't matter. It was the single most perfect proposal he could have ever devised. And it finally clicked why he'd been so quiet and nervous all weekend. He'd been waiting for the perfect opportunity to do it.
"I was going to do it at the top of Helm Crag but there were too many people. Then at the summit of Silver How, but you insisted that we leave immediately so I didn't have time and I couldn't get the ring out fast enough," he said. "And then I had to make sure that we came out on today's walk, even though the weather is utterly shit. Otherwise it would have been too late."
I don't remember hiking back down to Grasmere. But all my anxieties about being swept away by rising waters and torrential rain melted into perfect happiness, as they are wont to do when Pete is around.
The boy done good. I love him so much and can't wait for all the many adventures we will take together xxx