There was a lot of rain through the night but it had stopped by morning. Being a nice flat site on a mowed field it was easy packing up and I was on my way by 7am. There were no other tents on the site, just caravans, but nobody was up as I left and returned along the lane to Stainton. Last night I'd checked the position of the bus stop sign and arrived back there to wait. The timetable showed an X4 bus at 8:30 and I was expecting one of the long single deckers, but one of the shorter ones arrived. We arrived in Keswick about 9am and I got off to check the time of the 79 bus to Seatoller. I glanced back at the bus I'd got off to notice that it was now the Honister Pass bus and was going through Seatoller. I got back on it again and enjoyed the more picturesque route via Portinscale and Grange to Seatoller.

The bus ride to Seatoller.

A cloudy Sty Head Pass

When getting off at this stop I normally head for the seat made of slate to sort my rucksack and get ready for the trail. I looked towards its location and noticed that only the two supports were there, the flat seat had gone, presumably lifted for someone’s garden. It was still very overcast but the threatening rain held off. The minor road to Seathwaite seemed quite busy with traffic. The campsite on the left was fairly crowded and as I approached the end of the road the cars were parked all over the place. There were far more cars than I'd expect on a Saturday morning. I passed between the farm buildings at the end of the road and set off up the stony track towards Stockeley Bridge.

I was horrified to see large groups of dozens of people up ahead. Some were heading up Grains Gill and some up towards Styhead Tarn. I looked back and more hordes were coming up behind. At Stockley Bridge I turned right and headed up to Sty Head. As I got higher I came across the detritus of the weak in the head. Fresh banana skins were strewn about. At the tarn I saw many people on the horizon. At the summit of Styhead Pass I could see up the Corridore Route and even more people were streaming up it. What on earth was going on? I can only assume that the approaching longest day, full campsite and more than normal cars parked means some sort of sponsored event. People were ahead and behind as I climbed the Corridore Route and I came on yet more banana skins strewn along the trail by the thickos. Fortunately I didn't have to continue on their route for much longer and was able to take the left turn up to Lambfoot Dub before the group behind caught up. Now I was off the beaten track and in true fell wanderer territory. Just before the tarn I reached the flat grassy knoll and pitched my tent. Just as I put my stuff inside the rain started.