Innominate Tarn

My first recollection of Innominate Tarn is looking for a checkpoint on a mountain marathon, in thick cloud. We made a classic orienteering error of going straight for it and missing. Haystacks is a magical place, of lumps and bumps, not easy in mist. It is now synonymous with Wainwright (Book Seven: The Western Fells). His ashes being scattered by the tarn. In his book 'Fellwanderer' the very last paragraph makes me smile ‘And if you, dear reader, should get a bit of grit in your boot as you are crossing Haystacks in years to come, please treat it with respect, it might be me.

The image is inspired by a reference in the book to the tarn ‘where water laps the gravelly shore and the heather blooms’.