Thursday 8th November 2001 9.02am
An icy cold north-northwest wind is coming in this morning, chilling my hands and frosting my breath. The day is crystal clear, the cold stripping all haze and moisture out of the air, and Black Combe is prominent and resolute in the view, its sides showing their clear brown and greens to the day. The Whicham Valley to its east connects the hill to the Lakeland Fells; the whole range basking in the low angled sun that has managed to sneak under the gathering cloud.