Glaramara isn’t a hill of high profile. Its long, prone spine lies supine among the giants of the central Lakes. Where other mountains rear their heads, Glaramara remains sunken and indistinct, a creature of camouflage and self-effacement. Now that I’ve landed on its gristly back, I’m grateful for its strange humility – because it’s drawn me, an unwitting stomper, into a secret.
I had thought to use Glaramara as a platform from which to better eye the towering characters of the Lake District’s legendary mountainscape – Great Gable, Scafell Pike, Great End, Bow Fell. To trample over it, in other words, like a tourist after the money shot. But having reached its lower flanks, I’m surprised to find myself looking into a valley, The Combe.
PEAK PROFILE
Name: Glaramara
Height:…
