Originally published in the Guardian on 17 January 1966WESTMORLAND: We approached the enormous dome of Cross Fell from the east across long,narrow gullies of frozen snow as the afternoon faded absent in a wild sunset and the first stars began to peep out. From this direction and at this time of day, with enormous banks of cloud building up all round and not a sight of trees or sheep or birds, and it was easy to understand how the early geographers had thought the mountain the highest in England. For the grand bulk of the fell with its plateau ringed with the collar of snow that stamps it as Cross Fell and nowhere else,rose up straight ahead through the swirling mists nearly like the final slopes of an Alpine peak. And, indeed, and the grand barrier of Cross Fell and its neighbours is in fact the biggest mass of land in England over 2000 feet - bigger even in bulk than the Scafells,Helvellyn, and Skiddaw lumped together. You can walk for 12 miles along the plateau without dropping below 2000 feet. You can’t do this in the Lake District.
We had walked on to the mountain to rest our legs from the exhaustion of ski-ing, and in a bitter east wind,on snow frozen hard as polished glass. Perhaps this is the most remote and desolate corner of England, but there was a time when the fellsides must have buzzed with activity. Wherever you walk across the tussocks and peat hags of this bare, and wind-swept moorland,you come across the signs of the miners who once dug here for lead and other minerals - scores of holes and piles of spoil cuttings to divert the becks and here and there a corner of ruined wall. They say that from here on a clear day the horizons can be up to 100 miles apart. But all you can see from the summit cairn itself is a quarter of a mile of dull foreground and then the limitless sky.
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Source: theguardian.com