So there I was last December, thinking what an exciting idea it would be to spend the whole of this year making a television series about mountains. Travel to lovely bits of the country. Do some hillwalking. See some exciting vistas. Get a bit of fresh air. And, of course, feel reassured that it wasn't about tough action pursuits and we wouldn't be doing anything to scary or dangerous. Just lovely thrilling scenery. Like this.


This is Great Gable in the Lake District. Looks pretty gorgeous and tame from this level, huh? Just a long trudge up almost 3000 feet and the amazing panoramas will take your breath away.
Unless, that is, you take a detour across the rock escarpment close to the summit. And come across one of the most difficult climbs in the area. An exposed pinnacle known as Nape's Needle.


I don't know whose idea it was initially that we should film on Nape's Needle - only that it came out of seeing a turn of the century picture of it by the pioneering mountain photographers the Abrahams Brothers. And thinking that it looked mighty impressive. Which it does - as I'm standing there in my orange jacket and shorts realising that in aboout 20 minutes time I'm going up there myself. Rock climbing. For the first time ever. With no previous experience or training.
A note at this point about Mark Diggins. Mark has been our safety advisor for the whole of our series. What Mark says goes. He knows his stuff.
Mark has some strange, confidence-inspiring quality that makes me feel I can do things I'd never previously have considered. So when my Assistant Producer Kate and myself went off to the Lake District to recce there was no doubt in my mind that I was actually climbing that thing. Resistance was most certainly useless.
Up I go.


I have to say, it was one of the most challenging and tricky things I have ever done in my life. And, strangely, not in the slightest bit scary. Despite the exposure and the height it was such an effort of concentration - just me, a big slab of rock, and a series of difficult spots with nary a hand or foothold to grasp onto - that I forgot exactly where I was and what kind of situation I'd put myself into. Of course I was fully roped up, with Mark guiding me from above, but it was damned hard in a couple of places. Really really hard. And very exhausting. And awesomely, massively exhilarating to get up there, and rest on the shoulder (the last point before the very top, which is deeply unsafe even for experienced climbers) and to think I did it. And Kate too.


If I look like I have the face of a tortured soul in that picture, it's because I'm belaying Mark on the rope so he can try and make it to the very summit. Which he did. And pronounced it horrible.

I can honestly say that if anyone had told me this time last year that I'd be doing rock climbs of "very difficult to severe" grading, I would have well and truly laughed at them. And maybe run off to a recital of some chamber music for comfort. (I'm partial to a bit of Haydn every now and again. It's good for the soul.)
And now, of course, I'm hooked on mountains. And it's rather good for the soul too.
Next week I'm going up - then abseiling down - BroadStand on Scafell Pike.
I think I can now safely term myself to be a 'Climber'. And it's stunning.
Finally, a big thank you to my crew, with whom I went through it all again last week (except for going up the needle - somebody else did that bit this time!)
They're all stars.


New Dawn Fades will be closed again for another week while we hit the hills all over again.