[Some names and places have been changed to conceal the guilty]
Once upon a time, there were some walkers from a town called Combridge, and they were having a pleasant drink in the Barnmire Inn in Uskdale, where it was warm and dry, out of the rain.
When they came out of the inn, however, it was no longer raining, and the moon was large and bright, and the air was still, and one of the seven said, "'Tis a fine night for the climbing of Scow Fell." Another replied, "Aye, but 'tis much nearer to climb Carter Fell," and a third added, "And there's better scrambling on Carter Fell." And so they returned to their abode, and they packed their belongings into their knapsacks, and they commandeered a chariot, and they set forth into the night.
The brave band were given a bad omen when the chariot's tether broke, but abandoned it and pushed on regardless, up the long and winding track to the foot of the rocks. The wayfinders took the group exactly to the beginning of the route and they started to climb. And the moon deserted them, and some of them wibbled and went home. And the four who stayed went onward and upward, guided only by the wise words they carried on a scroll, and lit only by the poor lamps which they held.
As they moved higher, they found themselves climbing into the cloud, and they had trouble seeing each other, and they had trouble seeing their feet, yet they did not turn back, but did continue until they reached a tall, steep crag. And there they consulted their scroll, and they looked at the rock, and yet they could not see the way forward. And they said, "We don't need the scroll; we can just climb these rocks on the left," and they did climb the rocks on the left, and they found them climbable, and they came to a grassy slope. In the mist, all the rocky lumps looked alike, and the mist reflected the lights, and the climbers were greatly vexed. But they persevered and eventually came upon a pillar of stone which was near the summit.
There was much jubilation at the top, and they so forgot themselves as to shake hands on the summit, and they made pictures of themselves, and they rued the descent of their erstwhile companions. And after a while, they had had their fill of the top, and they made plans of descent. Despite the ales which they had imbibed, and which reversed East and West in their world, they carried out those plans with the aid of a charmed amulet - which must have imbibed similar quantities of ale, for soon they had left the cloud, and they made good time, and they reached the chariot before the fourth hour of morning. And they roused the driver, who took them home.
When the day broke, the clouds were thick, and the rain was heavy, and the winds were strong, and the climbers smiled.
And they all lived happily ever after.
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