By Coriarna Morris
Heather Honhold, one of our intrepid Blaze Trails Regional Managers, set us a challenge this year: the legendary Yorkshire Three Peaks.
For those who haven’t heard of it, the Three Peaks is a beast of a walk — 24 miles, 5,200 feet of ascent, and three mighty summits to conquer (Pen-y-ghent, Whernside, and Ingleborough). The twist? You’ve got just 12 hours to do it. Not for the faint-hearted.
Heather put the call out to our Blaze Trails groups across the UK: “Who’s in?”
The response? A resounding YES.
Over the months leading up to August 2025, we trained. We held meetings, swapped kit lists, became first aid trained, and cheered each other on. We wrote up info sheets, created media posts, let the Yorkshire Dales National Park know we were coming, and — most importantly — set up a donation page. Every single step would raise money for Blaze Trails, helping us create more adventures for families everywhere.
And then — all too quickly — the date rolled around.
The Start Line – Horton in Ribblesdale
It was 7am on a Saturday morning, the car park at Horton buzzing with nervous energy. Twenty-five of us mums and dads from across the country gathered, bags packed and boots laced tight. Some had driven all the way from Scotland, others from the South East and South West. Families, babies, and partners stood by to wave us off, their cheers ringing in our ears.
The nerves were real. The “Did I pack enough snacks?” panic was real. The “one last nervous wee”? Also very real.
The weather gods were smiling — hot, dry, with a light breeze. Not a drop of rain in sight. Perfect. But busy. Very busy. Dozens of other groups jostled at the start, all chasing the same dream: three peaks, twelve hours.
After a quick debrief from our organising team, there was no turning back. It was time.
Peak One – Pen-y-ghent (694m)
We set off at a steady pace, weaving through the crowds, nerves turning into adrenaline. The mantra was “be bold, start cold” — layers came off quickly as the climb began. Sunscreen was slapped on. Water bottles were checked and re-checked.
And then the doubts crept in: “What have we done?” We’d only just started and already we were feeling the climb. With 12 hours ticking on the clock, the pressure was real.
Halfway up, we stopped to catch our breath, sip some water, and laugh at ourselves. The camaraderie was already shining through — jokes, encouragement, and team spirit keeping us moving.
The higher we climbed, the busier it became. By the final stretch, we were actually queuing for the summit — like a hiker’s version of a theme park ride!
The mist rolled in just as we reached the trig point, wrapping us in a cold, eerie fog. It felt like stepping into another world. Some said it looked like something straight out of Wuthering Heights. All windswept and wild, with ghostly silhouettes of walkers drifting through the mist.
We made it! Summit one: bagged. Time for a quick team photo, some shaky smiles, and then — no lingering — the clock was ticking. Next up: Whernside.
Peak Two – Whernside (736m)
Something shifted after Pen-y-ghent. The nerves had gone. Now we were chatting, laughing, and getting to know each other in that magical way only a long walk makes possible. Before long we were swapping birth stories — the kind of gritty, hilarious, “you-had-to-be-there” tales that bond parents instantly.
The descent carried us through rolling farmland, past herds of curious cows and along those famous limestone walls that criss-cross the Yorkshire Dales. The landscape was stunning — bright green meadows framed by grey rock, a picture postcard at every turn.
Then came what felt like a gift from the heavens: a mobile café parked by the trail. Out came lattes, iced coffees, and sandwiches. Some of us wolfed them down; others eyed them suspiciously, worried about stomachs rebelling later. But coffee never tasted so good.
The Ribblehead Refuel
The sight of the Ribblehead Viaduct was glorious — those towering arches standing proud against the sky. We stopped for a proper 20-minute break, collapsing in the grass like weary heroes. And what did we find waiting for us? Not one but two ice cream vans. Bliss!
Even better, we were reunited with our families. Some mums breastfed, others cuddled toddlers, and everyone handed out hugs, snacks, and smiles. It was a bittersweet moment: fuel up, suncream on, pep talk delivered — and then the hardest part of all: saying goodbye again.
I reminded the group that we were doing brilliantly. On time. Spirits high. But we needed to push the pace a little. I knew from my Duke of Edinburgh leader days that the post-lunch stretch is always the toughest. And oh boy, was I right.
The Relentless Climb
The ascent of Whernside was nothing short of relentless. A long, steady drag upwards through the open dales, with the sun beating down and legs beginning to tire. We passed a glittering tarn, spotted a train winding its way across the viaduct below, and watched in awe as fell runners flew past us like mountain goats. (How?! We were gasping just walking.)
The air was filled with the scent of wild thyme and meadowsweet, little splashes of purple and white lining the path. It was beautiful… and brutal.
Halfway up, I hit the wall. That heavy, sinking feeling where every step feels impossible. But the team rallied. Out came the Haribos, the pep talks, the “you’ve got this!” shouts. And somehow, step by step, we clawed our way to the top.
And what a welcome awaited us: paragliders, swirling and swooping overhead like colourful birds, riding the thermals above the summit.
Summit two: conquered. Tired, sweaty, sunburnt, and a little broken — but still smiling. Two down. One to go.
Peak Three – Ingleborough (723m)
Coming down from Whernside was a test in itself. While some of us dread the climbs, a few mountain goats in the group absolutely flew downhill. For the rest of us? Well, our knees were screaming. Step after step after step — it felt never-ending.
At the bottom, we paused for a quick first aid stop, patched up a couple of sore feet, and reunited with families once more. This time, we resisted temptation — you’ll be proud to know we all walked straight past an ice cream van(though it nearly broke us).
On the descent we also met a fellow walker in dire need — the sole of his boot had completely broken off. A bit of improvised boot first aid later, and unbelievably, he carried on and finished all three peaks. True grit!
Further on, we passed a farm with toilets. Cue a slightly chaotic moment — some people dashed for loos and ice creams while others ploughed on. For the first time, our group was split. But there was no avoiding it now: Ingleborough was waiting.
Saving the Hardest ’Til Last
Whoever designed the Three Peaks clearly believed in saving the hardest challenge for the end. Ingleborough is brutal. The climb begins steep and only gets steeper, scrambling up rocky steps with the crowds of walkers all funnelling onto the same narrow path.
It was a battle of willpower as much as muscle. Every corner we turned, it felt like the top should be there… but wasn’t. And even when you think you’ve reached it — surprise! — the trig point is still far in the distance across a wide, exposed plateau.
By the time the back group reached the trig, the front group were already on their way down. But we made sure everyone had their moment. A quick photo, a high five, and of course — a touch of the trig. Because if you don’t touch it, it doesn’t count.
The Long Slog Home
From there, it was just one final test: the two-hour slog back to Horton-in-Ribblesdale. Long, hot, endless. Tired legs, sunburnt faces, but hearts full of determination.
And then… there it was. The car park. The finish line. We were greeted with applause, cheers, bottles of water, families waving, babies in arms, and more than a few tears. We’d done it. All three peaks. And yes — in under 12 hours.
Reflections
Huge thanks to everyone who took part, to our amazing Blaze Trails team, and especially to Heather’s husband Matt, who met us along the way with water refills, first aid, and Tash’s legendary Rocky Roads (fuel of champions).
So, what did we learn?
Team spirit is everything.
Haribos have magical powers.
Saying goodbye to your family halfway hurts more than any blister.
And no matter how hard it feels… you can keep going.
Would we do it again? Personally… no. But are we ready for the next challenge? Absolutely. So watch this space.
And don’t forget — you can still support our efforts by donating to Blaze Trails. Every penny helps us keep building adventures for families everywhere.
