Storm Kathleen caused havoc during the first week of April, and even after the clean-up the high winds continued well into the month, with the more exposed, higher summit wind speeds averaging well over 30mph. This, coupled with the squally weather down in the valleys, meant getting out for a fell walk was almost impossible, with the exception of those few spring hours dotted between the wind and rain where, if you are lucky enough to live within the district, you might be able to get a few hours of rare spring sunshine. It's fair to say we can write the first half of spring off.

Despite the chaos that the weather caused, work also interrupted my fell time and on the odd weekend when it wasn't blowing a gale or I was working, the one Sunday I did have off my body told me to use it as a rest day. It wasn't all doom and gloom, as I did manage to get up to Winter Hill on three occasions, all of which didn't make it to the website, such the lack of photo opportunities coupled with my mood, which had taken a bit of a nose dive. Rod began gathering the flock as early as last Monday. This is a walk that I mentioned well over a month ago before the winds arrived, and with the arrival of what appears to be a proper spring day, the butterflies in my stomach finally returned.

It had only taken ten minutes for the high cloud to roll in, which was a slight disappointment as the forecast suggested bright sunshine until lunchtime. Oh well, at least it was dry with only light winds. I arrived at the layby below Stybarrow Crag to find it heaving with just three parking spaces left, and after parking up I hoped every car that came over the brow was either David's or Rod's, Thankfuly Rod soon arrived with Louise and David a few minutes later. That was it, 8:00am and the layby was full already.

It was the 24th February since we had all last walked together, and it's fair to say it was great to have the gang back together again. Of course, the first topic of conversation was the continuous storms and never-ending wind. Mountain Forecast had predicted freezing temperatures across the summits, and as a result, we were all wearing long trousers. Even Calva had his coat on with its fleecy neck; he looked proper snug, but with the valley temperatures increasing, we'd all be de-layering within the hour. Kitted up and eager to get under way, we locked our cars, crossed the road, and joined the Ullswater shore path towards Greenside Road and Glenridding.

White Stones had been on David's 'summits not visited for over a year' list so we agreed to meet him on Hart Side later, trouble was Calva didn't want to go so I took Calva which allowed David to plough on at a good pace.

We began the narrow descent while relishing the sunshine sleeves rolled up, even managing to catch a suntan in the process. The path, rough at times, eventually levels in the woodland below, where the afternoon sunshine pierced the treeline, scorching foreheads and forearms leaving the afternoon feeling like spring had finally arrived. Seldom Seen came, the old miners cottages now holiday lets, which do not appear to have changed much over the last century are left behind for gravel and tarmac underfoot. We continued our descent as Ullswater sparkled beyond...

A592, where the sound of heavy traffic not helped by Kirkstone Pass being closed brought us back into reality before joining the Ullswater shorepath. Paddleboarders, sailboats, and small yachts broke the waters surface, as did the Ullswater Steamer Western Belle whose passengers sat at the bow enjoying the warm sunshine. Through a canopy of trees, Stybarrow Crag came into view, as did our cars, and surprisingly, there were gaps left to park. Two Sundays ago, I was sitting at home, my frustrations about not being able to get out onto fell reached their peak as I contemplated my walking career and why I put myself through such self-torture. Today I was reminded why.