I’ve just returned from a week in the Lake District mountains on the UK Mountain Leader Training course – a week that I won’t forget any time soon, for good reasons! Learning as an adult, I think, is something that is so special. You’re no longer being forced to memorise the periodic table, analyse poetry you couldn’t care less about or choose 8 or 9 subjects for the sake of it.
You get to choose what you want to learn and can base it around your passion— and for me, that’s being in the mountains. Preferably with a map, a snack, and a vague sense of direction. Becoming a Mountain Leader has been a long-standing ambition for a few years now, and this course genuinely exceeded every expectation; excellent instructors, an outdoor classroom, skills galore, nature at every turn and a group so wonderful, I don’t know how I got so lucky.
So, whether you’re booked onto your Mountain Leader training, toying with the idea, or just here for a cheeky peek behind the scenes, grab a cuppa, get comfy, and let me walk (not scramble, I promise) you through what a week on the UK Mountain Leader Training course is really like.
But first, if you’re wondering what on earth I’m talking about, you might want to read my blog on what a Mountain Leader is and how to become one.
Let’s dive in…
Booking the Mountain Leader training course
Honestly, the hardest part of the week? Just booking the course in the first place.
I’m a serial overthinker – I think I could win an Olympic Gold in it to be honest. And as someone who has an A* in worrying about the “what ifs”, I often end up missing out on opportunities that really shouldn’t pass me by. What if everyone is better than me? What if they’re all pros and I look like a lost hiker with a broken compass? What if there’s no other women on the course and I have to third-wheel groups of strong mountain men? These anxious little “what ifs” led to me putting off booking the course for almost 1 whole year. How ridiculous is that.
Anyway, in the end, I somehow managed to force myself to be a big girl and book the bloody course. I spent the next few months reading some of the course material and trying to familiarise myself with the content as much as possible.
Finally, the day arrived. I was off to the Lake District for six days of learning how not to get lost in the mountains. I booked the course with Lake District Mountaineering and our base for the week was Buttermere; a stunning spot with more sheep than phone signal.
True to form, I arrived at the YHA in Buttermere a bit of an emotional wreck after the anxious tears that may or may not have been shed on the drive over. To calm my nerves, I did the only thing I know: laced up my trail shoes and went for a trail run. Then it was an early-ish night, ready (and nervously buzzing) for the adventure ahead.
Day 1 – Storm Floris arrives, indoor learning and rope techniques
The Met Office was glowing with yellow warning triangles as if to say, “are you sure about this?” But honestly, I didn’t need to look at the weather forecast to confirm what I had already worked out; rain had been battering off the window most of the night and the wind sounded like it was trying to blow the roof off. The first day of Mountain Leader training was going to be wild. Classic Lake District.
Thankfully, the overthinker in me had packed (and then repacked) the night before which kept my stress levels pretty low. I’d met one of the lads in my group in the hostel the night before and had a lovely chat with him so it was comforting to see his smiley face in the morning when I walked into the lounge where we were meeting the rest of the group.
There were 11 of us booked on to the course in total so we were split into two smaller groups. There were six of us in our dream team and two other women (yay!) and our instructor for the first two days was Harriet from Navigation with Harriet. I highly recommend checking out the courses she offers; she is a fabulous instructor, very chilled and she specialises in women only and underrepresented groups.
We spent the morning indoors, thanks to the 75mph forecasted wind on the hills, talking about our experience, looking over maps and discussing the features and being given scenario clients to consider how we would plan a day out for them and what our considerations would be for that particular group.
Rope work
Around midday we finally got to head outside. We made the short drive to Rannerdale Knots alongside Crummock Water where we relocated using some map features and headed off to some steep, rocky ground to practise belaying. I paired up with one of the other women in my group, Rachael, and we very quickly bonded over our love of trail running and dogs. Instant friendship “tick”, right there.
This was an interesting introduction to the course learning about rope work and knots. We practised anchoring ourselves on to a rock, finding a secure and stable position to sit and how to lower and bring up a client over steep ground on the end of the rope. This is something you would only ever do in an emergency but definitely a valuable skill to have!
After a few hours of belaying each other, and the wind still relentless, it was time to head back to the YHA, eat, rest and repack ready for another wet and windy day tomorrow.
Day 2 – A windy day with navigation practise and steep ground support
Storn Floris was in full tantrum mode and the tops of the mountains had disappeared into the thick, sulking cloud. Tree branches were scattered, the waterfalls were booming and the rain.. well, it wasn’t just falling, it was launching itself sideways. I’m not a fair weather hiker by any sense but even I looked out the window and wondered why I didn’t love beach holidays more.
It was a 9am start with the group and after looking at the weather chart for the day, we wasted no time in heading out straight from the hostel towards the summit of Whiteless Pike. Donned in waterproofs and battered by the rain within the first few minutes, I couldn’t help but notice how everyone in the group was still smiling. No moaning, no complaining, just lots of laughter at the conditions we found ourselves in and a mention of maybe stopping in the cafe sooner than expected. These were my kind of people.
Maps in hand, we made sure we had our pacing sorted (how many double steps you take over 100m) to use throughout the week. It’s a super handy skill to work out rough distances travelled.
As we climbed, Harriet taught us how to relocate properly using the landscape features and relating them to the map rather than making the map fit to where you think you are. We spoke about how using natural, landscape features and the contour lines are more reliable than human features like boundary lines and tree plantations because they can shift or vanish entirely.
As a group, we were set the task of navigating to a ring contour on the map. First we worked out rough distance, elevation change and how long we thought it would take us to get there. With a few uncertainties on the way and lots of questions, we made it to the location with fabulous views down to Buttermere. Above us, hikers were struggling to stay upright in the wind so we wisely skipped the summit and instead continued practising more similar navigation techniques to reach certain locations at lower altitudes.
We also worked on taking bearings to get to the top of the gill and learnt how to follow a bearing as well as how to check we were definitely there.
Steep ground work
After some lunch, the sun finally made an appearance, the wind died down and the layers came off. With the day drawing in, Harriet took us to some steep ground where we practised a defensive stance to help clients down steep ground. This was a mixture of holding their rucksack strap or pushing against their waist to help keep them upright and to give them support when walking downhill.
We returned back to the hostel and it was the usual drill: dry out, unpack, repack, eat and sleep. I had a very relaxing evening doing some swatting up of synoptic weather charts and going over everything we had learnt that day.
Day 3 – Navigation practise and belaying techniques
Today, Storm Floris finally packed her bags and left the fells in peace, taking her relentless rain with her. For the first time all week, waterproofs were optional rather than essential — a small but glorious victory in the world of UK mountain weather. In the morning we met Sam (from Lake District Mountaineering), our new guide for the next couple of days. After a quick reintroduction and a recap of what we’d covered so far, we laced up our boots and headed straight out to get stuck into more navigation practice.
We began at the end of Buttermere and made our way up towards Burtness Comb, where the real fun awaited: steep ground. Along the way, we chatted about tips and tricks to give clients for effective hillwalking and worked in pairs to lead the group to a specific feature on the map, before relocating using the landscape features.
This method of teaching — practical, visual, collaborative — really clicked with me. Lake District Moutaineering have nailed a style that builds confidence without pressure. You’re constantly learning, but never alone in the process. It really helps build up your confidence.
Today was the first day we also started switching between different map scales. We used the 1:25,000 Ordnance Survey maps and the 1:40,000 Harvey maps to compare their detail and to try to navigate and relocate on each one. It turns out each has its strengths, though both are equally baffling when you don’t really know where you are…
As we headed towards Burtness Comb our discussions wandered from leadership styles to mountain flora and fauna, with plenty of laughs along the way. We also spoke about leadership skills’ and after leading children for nearly 13 years, I’ll be honest: leading adults is a whole different game. Thirty-four curious kids I can handle. Five fully-grown strangers silently assessing your compass skills? Terrifying. But that’s the joy of this training — learning how to lead in new ways, with a group that’s genuinely rooting for you.
Steep ground and belay work
Soon, we hit a steep scree slope and got to practise moving efficiently over the unstable terrain. We eventually reached Eagle Crag, where the ropes came out and we practised safeguarding each other on scrambly ground using a belay system. This time in a real mountain setting which made it feel all the more exciting.
This was a lot of fun and with the sweeping views infront of us, the idea of staying up there all night seemed entirely reasonable. To be away from the noise of life and the world and to feel small in a big landscape is something that always makes me feel truly happy.
Again we worked in pairs encouraging and supporting each other. This might have been my favourite thing about the whole group; no egos, no competition, just a bunch of strangers quietly cheering each other on. There’s something so quietly magical about that.
After a couple of hours, we skirted just below the summit of High Stile, the heather in full, purple bloom, before heading back down to Buttermere and the cars — tired, happy, and definitely ready for food.
That evening, the pub in Buttermere called and a few of us went for dinner and a couple of drinks. It was a chance to chat properly, share stories and laugh over things that wouldn’t make sense to anyone outside this odd, brilliant bubble. To Penny, David, and Nathan — if you’re reading this, thank you for a great evening and for inspiring me in ways you probably didn’t even realise.
Day 4 – Navigating with different scale maps and confidence roping
After a night of not quite enough sleep and a quick scan of the ever-hopeful weather forecast (spoiler: it lied), it was clear the waterproofs were going to earn their keep once again. Cue a last minute scramble to repack the rucksack, restuff the dry bags, and mentally prepare for another soggy day in the hills.
We drove to Seathwaite, the wettest, inhabited place in England and true to form, the rivers were swollen, the ground was boggy and it was just WET! But, Seathwaite is one of my favourite places so I was excited for a day of fine-tuning the navigation skills we’d been working on all week.
Sam led us along the riverside path just far enough to get our maps out and crack on. A quick relocation exercise — and it actually felt quick! Gone were the hesitant pauses and second-guessing. I could now spot landscape features and cross-reference them with the map with something resembling confidence. It was one of those little moments where you realise, “Hang on… I am getting this!”
Soon we reached a steep, rocky scramble and split into two teams. The women in the group spotted the men up the first section and then we swapped. This section was all about foot placement, handholds and verbal communication and it was such a good reminder of how effective simple teamwork can be in technical terrain.
A short walk later, we paused for lunch and did another map relocation exercise, comparing the 1:25k and 1:40k maps again. It was brilliant practice, and being able to justify exactly why we were where we said we were felt like a massive win.
The rest of the day was full on navigation, navigation, navigation. In pairs, we were tasked with leading the group to specific points, working out the distance, elevation gain, timing, and then using the landscape around us to confirm our location. It was immersive, challenging, and actually really satisfying. At one point, my partner and I struggled to find a particularly elusive feature but not once did I feel like I’d let myself or the group down. And that’s coming from someone who is usually their own worst critic. The encouragement and support within this group has been nothing short of incredible — a bunch of strangers turning into something much more powerful: a team.
Confidence roping
By the afternoon, the mental batteries were starting to flash low. A week of full on learning, long days and unpredictable weather had taken its toll. But we had one final skill to cover: confidence roping. This simple technique involves tying a short rope between you and a partner to help them over steep or tricky ground. It’s all about control, posture, and leaning into the slope to give the other person balance and trust. It’s surprisingly effective.
That evening, too tired to cook my boring pasta, it was another evening of heading to the pub for dinner. The burger went down a treat after a couple more local beers and some good conversation, I went to sleep with a full belly and a sense of pride.
Tomorrow: the expedition and wild camp. Bring it on.
Day 5 & 6 – Overnight expedition with night navigation
This was the part of the week I had been most excited for; the expedition. Two days, one night, a heavy pack and the promise of wild camping under the stars.
The Mountain Leader training includes a two day, one night wild camping expedition and for this, we had a new guide. Al arrived with a beaming smile, bursting with energy and cracked a joke or three within the first few minutes. He made the effort to get to know each and every one of us. He was open and honest and I really appreciated the heartfelt chat I shared with him as we wandered up from Honister towards Grey Knotts.
Weighed down with a heavy backpack, our pace was slower today but luckily, the weather gods were on our side, the rain held off and we could enjoy the views in nicer conditions than the rest of the week.
The focus today was, once again, navigation – but this time, we were flying solo. Each of us was given a section to lead independently, putting all our newly acquired skills to the test: route choice, group management, navigating complex terrain and making sure we didn’t wander into oblivion. It was a full on application of everything we’d learned — exciting, slightly terrifying and incredibly rewarding.
As we gained in height, clouds rolled in and clung to the tops of the peaks. When it came to my turn to lead us off Great Gable (in proper clag), I felt a flicker of nerves but I took a bearing, trusted it, followed it… and there it was: the correct path, right where it was supposed to be. A tiny step for navigation, but a giant leap for my confidence. I couldn’t help but smile.
My turn for leading over, I felt myself really relax as we sang Oasis songs (badly) together, cheered when Al helped lead a lost group and their tired dog down a very rocky, scrambly section and spotted our camp spot in the distance.
Ennerdale was our destination for the evening, our camp spot waiting for us by the river. We pitched up, it was time to boil water, tuck into our various rehydrated delights, and swap stories over mugs of something warm. Somewhere in there, I remembered the bag of fudge I’d stashed — which went down a treat with the gang.
Night Navigation
Shortly after 10pm, the sun now set and the darkness taking over, we clicked on our head torches and set off into the dark. We practised calculating distances, taking bearings, following them through the inky blackness, and pacing out our steps across unseen terrain. This was a completely new skill for me and one I genuinely loved. There’s something oddly thrilling about navigating when the only thing you can see is what’s lit up by your own tiny pool of light.
Just after midnight, tired and slightly giddy, we crawled into our sleeping bags. Gusts of wind tore down the valley, rattling our tents and testing our guy lines, but after the day we’d had even that felt oddly comforting. Wild, remote, alive.
The final goodbye
The final day was much more relaxed. We did a brief recap, spoke about responsible wild camping and then walked back out to Honister Slate Mine and breakfast.
Sam was there to greet us again and we completed a self-reflection sheet over a coffee and a bacon roll, received our feedback and said our final goodbyes to the group.
What a week!
Reflection and next steps
I’m not ashamed to admit I shed a few tears when I got my feedback at the end. I’ve shared more of my story over on Instagram, but after a career in teaching that mentally destroyed me, sometimes I still find it hard to process positivity. I’m still learning to receive kindness and believe in myself.
I spent the final few years of my teaching career at my lowest and in the darkest place I’ve ever been. I felt useless, worthless and genuinely thought life would be better if I wasn’t here. I was unable to see a way out. So when people — strangers – looked me in the eye and told me I was capable, that I should have more confidence, that I had what it takes… it hit me like a wave. I didn’t know how much I needed to hear those words until they were said.
Now, two years after leaving teaching, there are still battles to contend with every now and again but it has become easier. The outdoors has been a saviour and I’ve leaned into personal growth, doing things for me, saying no, setting boundaries and believing in myself. I’ve found a kind of joy I never felt in a fluorescent lit classroom.
I had an incredible week on the Mountain Leader Training. I can honestly say it is the best thing I’ve ever done. It challenged me, lifted me, and stitched together so many loose threads of confidence that had been left frayed for a long time.
My group? Fabulous. Every single one of them. We laughed, we sang, we navigated and we cheered each other on. I really hope to see them again soon.
The three guides we had: Harriet, Sam and Al – were all incredible. Their combined knowledge, patience, personalities and passion for the outdoors made for the most amazing week. I highly recommed each of them.
Mountain Leader training isn’t just about learning to lead others. It’s about discovering your own strength, building trust in your decisions, and finding joy in shared adventures. Even when you’re wet, tired, and carrying a tent.
If the Mountain Leader training is something you think that you’d like to do, or even if you just wanted to brush up on some skills, then take a look at the Lake District Mountaineering website. I’ll definitely be booking on with them asap.
So what’s next? Consolidation, perfecting those skills, getting out in the hills and then assessment. Maybe in 2026. Stay tuned.
Thanks for reading, I enjoyed writing this one,
Izzy x