During Niemann-Pick Awareness Week 2006 Liz Jacklin organised 3 balloon races. She writes:

Roger Franklin set himself a challenge for Awareness Week, to climb the infamous Scafell Pike in the Lake District.  He successfully completed the challenge at 11.13 a.m. on Tuesday 8th August.  He writes:

”Bill Owen and I set off at 7.30 to drive the 80 miles to Wasdale Head at the foot of the Scafell massive. We took a short cut along a very minor road which appeared to run straight across the Lake District.  It was an interesting route with double chevron inclines and declines on sharp left and right hand bends. However the views over Wrynose Pass (dubbed Rhino's A*** by Bill) and Hardknott Pass were spectacular.  Bill's seriously impressive driving skills brought us to Wasdale Head at around 10.30 and we set off for the mountain an hour or so later.

The plan was that Bill would accompany me on the first section of the climb, along the flanks of the fell, and then make his way back to the Hotel to await my triumphant return. From the road the path seemed to cross the fell at a comfortable slope but within 10 minutes we were both breathing heavily. 'How many hours have we been walking?' asked Bill as some measure of the task began to dawn on us. A short while later Bill stopped for a breather and ushered me onwards as it looked as though the attempt would take longer than planned.

The path continued upwards to a sharp left hand bend into the ravine of Lingmell Gill. Ahead and above was the gill crossing. When I reached the crossing I was desperate to stop and so decided to take a couple of photographs as an excuse for an extended breather. The dry summer had reduced the gill to a trickle and one could cross dry shod. The guidebook suggests that in normal conditions some wading is necessary and when in spate one may expect to get thoroughly wet.

Beyond the crossing a thread-like path seemed to wind vertically upwards to dark brooding cliffs whose tops were shrouded in mist. Now the true measure of the climb became apparent and I confess to being not a little daunted. Would my woefully inadequate training be sufficient to get me to the top? I set off at what I thought was a sustainable pace but within minutes was blowing like a whale. As the minutes passed my breathing became more regular and the pain transferred to my legs. For the next hour I saw little of my surroundings, my mind being focussed on the path a few feet ahead of me. When I did stop to gasp and rest I saw large shed sized boulders just ahead of me. This must be the Hollow Stones described in the guide and I was close to where the track divides.

The split in the track is not obvious. The path I was following appeared to bear to the left and this should have been my preferred route but the mist had descended and I could see nobody on this path. Ahead of me was a steep scree slope below mist covered cliffs. To my surprise six or so figures were making their way up the scree. Their route looked to be the more direct route that led between Sca Fell and Scafell Pike. Not feeling sufficiently confident to go any where on the mountain alone I chose the shared difficulty of the more direct route.

Climbing on scree is hugely frustrating, as you push up the scree slides away and you get nowhere. Also you set off small avalanches of stones that upset those below you. Eventually I caught the group above me and was amazed and humbled to discover mum and dad with their eleven year old son. Dad was not sure of the route but was following the couple above us who, he assured me, had climbed the mountain before. We struggled painfully on and slowly came upon John and Claire. Claire confessed she had not climbed the mountain. John had, but in the dark.

We had stopped below a steep, intimidating, boulder filled gully which John said was the way ahead. The gully faded into mist and I asked John if he was sure he had scaled this gully in the dark. 'Pretty sure' said John cheerfully and set off. Surprisingly the steepness of the gully eased the climb. Now I could use both hands and legs like climbing stairs using a handrail. We emerged from the gully onto the flat stony area of Broad Stand and gazed out on the valley of the river Esc. To the right a path led up to Sca Fell hidden in cloud. To the left the path wound upwards past the brooding cliffs of pulpit rock whose jagged peaks emerged and disappeared as the mist swirled about them. Some debate ensued as to how high we were but for me it was academic. I knew we were around 900m which meant I had less than 100m to the summit and was now sure I would make it.

The last 100m, over large boulders, was very tiring on my weakened legs but finally the slope eased and the summit cairn came into view. I arrived at the summit at 11.13am an hour and 50 minutes since my start. Our little party shook hands and congratulated each other with a pleasure only the completion of a shared endeavour can bestow. I wanted to announce my triumph to the world and particularly to Bill who was waiting patiently in the pub at Wasdale Head but my mobile phone would detect no signal so the world and Bill would have to wait my return.  We ate our sandwiches, took photographs and discussed the route down.  At 11.30 I set off down the mountain but that is another story.

Many thanks to all who supported me and NPDG (UK)

Roger Franklin