So did I, but isn't that the great thing about the English weather?
This is last weekend, during Easter, somewhere near Great Langdale.
Not that I'm complaining. There's little to beat the sound of snow, whether it's being swooshed over on skis, or being crunched under walking boots. And at last I revisited the Striding Edge, one of the approaches to Helvellyn. My Mother took me down this route off Helvellyn when I was nine years old. We both wore wellies, and carried nothing else. These days, everyone seems kitted out for an ascent on Everest. Probably wisely too.
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