Scafell Pike Summit

The rising sun washed the fresh morning sky with a purple hue, beaming a golden glow onto our already ruddy faces. We'd summited the craggy peak of Scafell Pike—England's highest point. It was 4am, two hours after we'd left the warmth of the van, but our reward was this most beautiful sunrise.

As we descended, the silence was cut only by the crunch of slate-coloured scree shifting under our feet. The heaviness of the challenge lifted with the sunrise. Fuzzy heads began to think clearly as the light washed away a tormented nighttime ascent.

We were tired. Our legs were stiff and sore. I particularly felt a dull pain in the crook of my right leg, like someone was constantly pushing a snooker ball into the tendons behind my knee.

This Three Peaks Challenge was serious business.

Two hours previously, we'd traversed roaring streams and peaty bogs dotted around the fells. We wanted to be back in the cosy support van, parked on tarmac glistening in the moonlight. With only a paper map and our headtorches for guidance, we wove our way slowly upwards towards the summit. Our legs were already wet and muddied from Ben Nevis, which we'd summited five hours and 250 miles earlier.

The false summit of Scafell Pike is a cruel joke played by the fell gods when they massaged the land into almost impassable undulations. A looming black peak shadows the ascent before, thankfully, you skirt around it towards the actual summit.

From there we scrambled and skated over loose scree. Legs and lungs burning, the stone cairn finally burst into view.

A tired arm reached out to tap it. A quick photograph. Then back down.

We returned to the support van and were greeted with smiles, warm coffee and handshakes before hitting the road again. Through the morning mist we headed towards Snowdonia for our final summit of the day.

22–23 June 2018

Three Peaks Challenge — 23 hours, 8 minutes