I have Wainwright's Pennine Way Companion and I've never forgotten what he said about Penyghent after his oft-tedious journey from Edale to the Dales: "A real mountain at last!"

The first time I went up Penyghent was with Vicar Shaw of Oldham, no relation, one of the finest field botanists who ever lived. He was 77 by then. When I was in my twenties he was a good friend of mine and, a damn sight more famously, was a friend of Roy Lancaster. I had the good fortune to meet Roy a few years ago and we had a great banter about our reminiscences of Vicar Shaw. A year or so later, Roy made a lovely half-hour Radio 4 programme about the vicar which, to my chagrin, I failed to record. The time we went up Penyghent, Vicar Shaw was after one thing only, the sight of Saxifraga oppositifolia, the purple saxifrage. It's an arctic-Alpine flower that's rare in England though slightly commoner in Scotland. Its location on the limestone cliffs high on Penyghent is famous. You have to go in April or May to see the gorgeous rosy purple flowers. The vicar was amazingly fit for a 77-year-old and easily made it to the cliffs. He spent a good few minutes in private admiring the saxifrage and taking pictures. We were only a short step from the summit and eventually I asked him if he was coming to the top with us for the view. "What the bloody 'ell do I want to do that for! I've seen what I've come to see and I'll see you lot in the car park!"