Gents Mag 1900 part 2 p.357

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	Gentleman's Magazine 1900 part 2 p.357 were tinged with golden sunshine, and by four o'clock I met the cold breeze which at sunrise drives over Dunmail Raise. Past Wythburn the wind became stronger. The waters of Thirlmere dashed in white spouts against its rocky shores; the fells behind Armboth were clear of mist, but only the lower slopes of the mighty Helvellyn could be seen. As I passed into the wider valley, the sunshine seemed to filter through the clouds, and the last five miles to Keswick, which was reached before half-past seven, will always be a pleasing memory. The contrast of mist-hung mountains and sunny green woods and valleys was most striking. A different side, as well as aspect, of the country has been rendered familiar by mountain ascents at night. For our last - a climb of Scawfell Pike - we left Windermere at seven o'clock and strolled on to Elterwater, near which we stayed till after eleven. Then, under light of a pale half-moon, we plodded into Langdalehead. My brother was suffering from tender feet, so after picking a way among the rough cobbles to the foot of Rossett Ghyll, he called a halt till the light should allow our getting an easier path. Then, taking off his boots, he went to sleep for an hour and a half. This place was very quiet, yet it seemed that its very silence had a basis of sound, for inarticulate whispers and murmurings rolled up the dale, and more than once I patrolled the sheepfold, inside and out, to make sure no one was near. By half-past two we were able to proceed towards Eskhause. Angle Tarn was passed still in the shadow, and we only caught the sunshine streaming through a break in the mist-banks when a long way up the pass. A strong westerly wind drove grey cloud-masses among the distant northern mountains. For a moment Helvellyn would break itself clear of the whirling mist; Skiddaw and Saddleback seemed to revel in the reek, occasionally throwing up a summit or a shoulder as though to mark their whereabouts. Not till the shelter at the pass's head was reached could anything be seen of the mountains beyond Styehead. Then we turned from a view of Bowfell, rising supreme through a sunlit patch of mist, to see Great Gable mounting in grand outlines into the masses which, as smoke from a volcano, seemed rolling out of Ennerdale. The fells beyond and around Honister were visible, but in a few moments the white cloud-tide eclipsed them. Would this wind-swept stream envelop Scawfell Pike before we could reach it? As we toiled into view of the crags this seemed very likely. After a drink from the infant Esk, we passed into Ill Crag. The path for about a hundred yards wound among huge blocks of rocks, and striding from one to another of these we continued the climb.
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	-- Scafell Pike

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