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Myself and my better half were struggling along Striding Edge this Thursday, clinging like limpets to the rock face and more than a little nervous of the terrifying sheer drops on either side.
As we are shuffling along on our backsides preparing to gingerly lower ourselves down from the crag tops to a relatively safer looking pathway, a voice suddenly shouts "excuse me", and from out of nowhere this fell runer leapt over the wifes head, skipped around me, and tore off like a crazed mountain goat bouncing from crag top to crag top.
I was utterly gobsmacked!
This gent was leaping from one rocky outcrop to another, with lethal drops on either side, relying totaly on his knowledge of the "path", the grip on his running shoes and his obvious balls of steel to keep him alive.
We sat there for a few minutes and watched him cover Striding Edge in minutes, before scampering up the scramble to the summit and vanishing into the mist.
5 minutes later and I spotted him careening down Swirral Edge.
By way of contrast, we arrived at Swirral Edge a good hour later, took one look at the descent, and the damp and the mist, and decided to take the long way home over Whiteside rather than risk it down the route we had seen this lad RUN DOWN!
I knew fell runners were a tough breed but I have never seen anything like that, and if you are reading this: respect to you!