Without really planning it I seem to be returning to walks that I'm really fond of but haven't walked for a while and this week the trend continues as I returned to Kentmere after four years away.

My walk was inspired after speaking to a friend of mine who was planning to walk Kentmere Pike and Harter Fell from Mardale which in turn got the old cogs going "jeez when was the last time I started a walk from Kentmere" The answer to that would be June 2018 when I walked Birketts Kentmere Horseshoe.

Being just over an hour away from Kentmere after a few celebratory Birthday drinks yesterday afternoon I was tucked up in bed by 10pm (the joys of turning 48!) and woke well before my alarm call arriving at the parking spaces outside St Cuthberts Church, Kentmere at 07:20am to find a fell running event was taking place where I was rudely told that 'Id have to find somewhere else to park" by one of the event organisers. By the end of the day it all kind'a made sense.

Feeling frustrated I turned my car around and drove down the hill towards a field that had been opened up for the competitors of the event just past Low Bridge. Even if I wanted to I couldn't sneak on and pay because the car park was full to bursting already so stuck the car into gear and left all the while trying to think of an alternative walk from Kentmere but all I could think of was how much I'd wanted to summit Kentmere Pike and return through the valley later. A few minutes later I passed a layby which gave access to the private fisheries on Kentmere Tarn. Parking here would add about a mile to the walk but seeing as I was early what was a mile between friends.

As I kitted up more and more cars drove towards the village and I could feel myself getting more frustrated "where the hell are they going to park" I churned over. It was a pleasant morning so I changed from a long-sleeve base layer to a technical tee and packed the baselayer and a waterproof into my pack. Within minutes I was leaving the layby walking back into Kentmere before turning right onto Lowfield Lane which would eventually lead me onto High Lane and the Kentmere valley.

I passed over The Knowe enjoying the soft turf beneath my boots before turning east towards Harter Fell summit where I was joined by what appeared to be a mother and daughter competing in the fell race. The organisers of the fell race had placed a check in point on the other side of the fence which meant every competitor had to jump over the fence to check in.

I'm not too sure if the land owner would be happy about that but as I later found out the organisers hadn't even notified landowners that the fell race was taking part on their land.

The mother and daughter descended towards the top of Nan Bield Pass while passing more fell runners in ascent no doubt heading for the check in point on the other side of Harter Fell summit.

After a quick summit photo I began my descent passing a lady walking towards the summit cairn where 'mornings' are exchanged. The lady was wearing a fleece which triggered me into adding an extra layer which in turn got rid of the goose bumps spreading across both my arms.

I was soon at the top of Nan Bield Pass where two mountain bikers were getting ready for a descent into Kentmere, by the time I'd taken this photo ready for my own descent they were at the bottom of the pass gunning it towards Smallthwaite Knott.

As I watched their dust settle I am again reminded that I ain't getting any younger!

From here you really get a good angle of the curve on III Bell's east ridge. The ridge is also very deceiving which is regarded as one the steepest ascents in the District.

I had already been passed by a farmer riding a quad bike close to the Barracks cottage who then returned passing me again a short time later. Sadly for the two pairs of fell runners he'd seen scalling a wall on the opposite side of the valley who then ran through a field of lambs and their mothers their time was up.

By the time I'd caught up with the farmer who had stopped to apprehend the fell runners by giving them a piece of his mind he had calmed down as I arrived but I could still hear every high pitched word "I was completely unaware of the event" and "what do you mean your sorry, what are you doing climbing my walls" followed by humble apologies from the fell runners.

The fell runners then passed me repeating that 'it was wrong of the organisers not to gain permission' which was fair enough although in my opinion the fells runners running through a field full of lambs was the final nail in the coffin for the farmer "dear god I thought" I hope those fences didn't get damaged on top of Harter Fell"

For those few moments it felt like chaos, because it was chaos and I couldn't wait to put it to the back of my mind.

It felt like Spring was turning to Summer during the time it had taken me to walk from St Cuthberts back to my car where for those twenty minutes or so I didn't have a care in the world which I guess is what Lakeland does to you, it grips you and takes you away and when reality is reached it often comes as a shock. Heardies flank the fields to my right while in a distant field lambs bleat for their mothers. It could be a scene from 100 years ago but this is Kentmere, untouched by time but not by man.