Having been missed out of three different walks now either because of the weather or because I just ran out of time, Glenridding Dodd was fast becoming The Nab of the Eastern Fells. So since I didn't think I'd be back in Glenridding, it had to be squeezed into this last morning - but at least this time I had the sense to pack up first and take my bag with me.
I knew that the path led up from behind some of the houses on the road, so when I found some houses I went round onto the track behind them, through a washing green, and found the start of a path heading up the hill. It didn't look quite right, but it had to be right.
It wasn't too much later I realised that that really wasn't the way I'd meant to go - I could even see a man walking easily up the hill over to the right.
There was a path, mostly, sort of, although sometimes it seemed to be a stream instead, and sometimes it vanished for a bit and reappeared again. Eventually I reached what I though of as the heather line, and things got easier, with a nice tiny earth and stone path.
I liked the heather - it made a nice change from the plain grass of the day before. It was also a sign that I was getting nearer the top, and it wasn't much further before I reached the gap between Glenridding Dodd and Sheffield Pike, and could look back up the way I'd come down earlier in the year.
From there there's a clear but circuitous path, leading up by the wall for a bit, round the trees, and wriggling round to come onto the summit from the back.
I had promised myself a proper rest at the summit, since my legs were tired from all the straight uphill, and I was very tempted just to sit there all morning - it was a perfect place with grass and rocks and purple heather and trees and sunshine and views. And maybe I should have done. But I had a Plan, and so I carried on.
And of course, on the way down it was easy to find the right path, slanting down across the hill and looking not at all like the one I'd found.
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