the whole story since it's only 577 words

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The grey morning rose as though it could predict the dull future of the later day. “it shouldn’t be too bad weather today” we all thought as we boarded the boat to take us across the choppy waters of Derwentwater. The waves began to crash against the front of the miniscule boat like an unforgiving army fighting a weak force and the wind stung our eyes. We had yet to realise the peril of nature we were about to face when we reached the shore.

We were relieved to reach the dry land after half an hour of being battered by Mother Nature as we gasped in awe at the sheer slopes of Catbells, a 1500 foot fell that flanked the western shore of the lake of Derwentwater. Determined, we all set off up the steep 2 kilometre trek to the summit that awaited us with it’s brutal secret.

Our parents had once before climbed the slopes of Catbells but before our time of course. They told us of a scramble up a sheer rock face before emerging to the summit which provided a panoramic view over the local area and across over the fells. A fantastic view for a small fell they told us as we rounded the corner of the path which took us ever closer to the summit. Suddenly a blast of wind boxed our faces so our eyes were watering. However this was only the beginning…

We scaled the scramble relatively easy, the atmosphere was celebratory, until as we rounded the corner before the final ascent we were hit with a gust of wind, that seemed to have doubled in strength and speed from the last gust. We took a break by some rocks, hoping the wind would pass. However it didn’t, and we feared our safety since we were over a thousand foot above the ground and the wind could have the ability to push any of us over the edge of a drop into the unknown. However we decided to carry on to the summit.

As we reached for the summit, we were fully exposed to the wind and a gale force hit us at what felt like a car on the motorway (of course this was probably an exaggeration but the fear had begun to settle in ). Suddenly the adrenaline coursed round my body like a drug and I ran like a frightened fawn up the hill towards the dangerous summit, tears of fear coursing down my face like a waterfall

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