Roger Butler explores the guardians of Grasmere

THE FORECAST wasn’t good and the weather information pinned on the hostel noticeboard sounded particularly grim. The gales were set to continue, with severe wind chill, frequent snow and the risk of thunder and lightning. All things considered, and using newly acquired American terminology, this sounded like a veritable weatherbomb. And, to cap it all off, the final line explained that visibility would often be appalling – or almost zero – in snow or cloud.

This had become the sort of day when you’ve got to lower your sights, lower your heights and be a bit creative. My mind was full of spindrift as I quickly planned a