I was once on the top of Fairfield, at the head of the Rydal valley, when the sun was shining warmly, and the reflected light from the crusted snow was intense. Having previously experienced the symptoms of snow-blindness in Canada, I repeated the experience that day, and I verily believe I should have gone temporarily blind had I not moved away to where the glare was less acute.
As regards perishing from cold, this may easily happen to a person on the high tops in winter, should he, through over-exertion, be compelled, or perhaps I should say, give in to his desire to sit down. A drowsiness comes over one, and sleep may end in the person being badly frozen, if nothing worse. I have recollections of a youth who ventured to the top of Red Screes one winter’s morning on hunting bent, and, being quite unused to hill climbing, sat down in an exhausted condition. He took some rousing too, and had he been left to his own devices I very much doubt if he would have left the hill alive.
CONISTON FOXHOUNDS: A KILL IN THE SNOW ON STEEL FELL, NEAR GRASMERE.
Although all such happenings are possible, the use of a little care and common sense will carry one through a score of seasons in the fell country without the slightest mishap. One should always remember that the climatic conditions in winter and early spring are very different on the high tops from what they are in the country far below in the dales.
I have come down off the top of Fairfield in April, after being white from head to foot with hoarfrost, into a warm summer atmosphere near Windermere Lake. People generally look at you in surprise if you tell them that 2000 feet above the dales the tops are still well within the grip of winter.
One possible danger that I have so far omitted to mention, is the chance of being overtaken by darkness on the fell. No matter how well you know your way down, on a dark night, it is a thankless job striking matches or peering about with a flashlamp in the rough ground. With a moon and a clear sky you are safe enough, while there is a novelty about walking the tops under such conditions. A night spent on the open fell is bound to be a chilly one, for at a high altitude there is little or no material to make a fire. Still, if you should be caught in the dark, it is better to wait for daylight than risk breaking a leg or your neck over some crag. I have had one or two experiences of struggling down to civilisation in the dark, and I much prefer to do it when there is at least some little light to guide me on the proper route.
I remember once crossing the top of Red Screes by moonlight, after hounds had run their fox to ground at Dod Bields earth in Caiston. It was a brilliant night, however, and we had not the least difficulty in reaching the “Traveller’s Rest” inn, at the head of the Kirkstone Pass.
In the foregoing I have perhaps laid rather too great stress upon the bad weather in the fell country, therefore, I will hasten to add that the winter climate of the Lakeland dales is exceptionally mild. Two thousand feet or more, of course, makes a lot of difference in climatic conditions, and those who do not care to face the exigencies of the high tops can still see much sport with hounds if they stick to the lower reaches of the fells.