We met halfway up Kirk Fell, where the grassy slope makes way for loose rubble. We left the boundary together, but a few minutes later she decided that the path I was taking was decidedly iffy and headed off to find an alternative. As I carried on up the slope, I wondered whether she’d found it, or whether she’d turned back and headed back down to Wasdale. When I finally reached the top of that section, and grass was once again under my feet, I heard someone behind me. I looked back. It was her. I paused and waited for her to catch up and we chatted as we made our way to the summit.
We stayed together as we came off Kirk Fell, climbed up Pillar and came down towards Red Pike. I peeled off towards Steeple, saying I’d catch her up. Red Pike came and went, as did Yewbarrow with no sign of her. Had I really taken that long to Steeple? Was she lost on the fell? Would she make it back to Wasdale Head before the promised thunderstorm? As I picked my way down the final descent of the day, I fretted about her fate. Then, about 100 yards from the car I spotted her, walking along the road. I whistled and waved maniacally. She paused and waited for me to catch up.
“You made it back! I was worried when I didn’t see you. What happened?” she asked, as concerned about my fate as I’d been about hers. We filled in the blanks, thanked the fates that our story had an ending and went on our respective ways.