Risking life and limb

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On July 5 after almost 2,500 miles in the saddle I crossed Carter Bar, the border pass into Scotland. Set more than 400 metres high in the hills it is the most spectacular way to arrive in Scotland.

The last few days have been the most challenging yet most exhilarating. My route took me north-west through the Yorkshire dales to the Lake District where I climbed three of the most famous mountains in England, The Old Man of Coniston, Scafell Pike and Helvellyn.

Though problems arose when I came to climb Mickle Fell, Yorkshire. No road goes within four miles of the summit and the top is not only private land but also an active Ministry of Defence firing zone. Unfortunately for me the red flag was flying meaning I couldn't step foot on the mountain. I carried on bitterly disappointed, but the following day I decided to return and climb it by a different route regardless of red flags.

Lo-and-behold the flag was flying but I pushed on to the summit, a three-mile trek over rough moor into the "danger zone". I imagined I'd be surrounded by a platoon of soldiers at any second or a tank would come rumbling over the hill. Another worry was the proximity of the grouse shooting season. Mickle Fell is a prime grouse site and gamekeepers patrol the area with the shooting season beginning in August. They wouldn't take kindly to strangers. And a third problem was that these mountains were used for tank practice in WWII and there are unexploded shells lying around.... So it was with great relief that I reached the top unscathed and ran as fast as I could off that godforsaken hill. Saw no shells, no soldiers and no gamekeeper.

The scenery of England's northern most county Northumberland was truly stunning and after a 35-mile drag from Hexham I reached the Scottish border.

I had one more English peak to conquer - The Cheviot in Northumberland. I followed the route of the Pennine Way back into England for what proved to be an almighty 15-mile slog. My head was swimming with dehydration and hunger. I saw a tube of toothpaste in a mountain hut and was sorely tempted. I remember hearing a story once of a man who fell down an old tin mine in Cornwall and was trapped for a week. He survived by eating the toothpaste he had just bought from a shop. Things weren't that bad, though I gave the sheep some hungry looks. I got to my hostel with very shaky legs just as it was getting dark.

As of July 6 I've climbed all of England's 40 county tops, 13 in wales and one so far in Scotland. I'll spend a week now in the Borders and I have to catch a ferry to an island. Then I'll be heading north of Glasgow for the highest and most remote mountains yet.

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[Pops!!]

Another travel quote!!!!
“Restore human legs as a means of travel. Pedestrians rely on food for fuel and need no special parking facilities. ” - Lewis Mumford