My Lake District Fell Dream | CIDP

Thank you to Nigel Pickering for sharing this story of CIDP and goal setting. You can find a condensed version of this story in our September 2025 newsletter, INdepth

In June 2021, I collapsed and lost the use of my legs and hands. Initially diagnosed with Guillain-Barré Syndrome (GBS), I underwent treatment with IVIg and was sent to a rehab unit. But my condition worsened, and by late July I was effectively paralysed. A second diagnosis of Chronic Inflammatory Demyelinating Polyneuropathy (CIDP) finally explained the ongoing deterioration. I received more IVIg and high-dose steroids, then returned to rehab. By November, after nearly six months, I finally came home. As far as I saw it, I was to spend the rest of my days using a wheelchair.

Before my collapse, I was a relatively fit and active 64 years old. I loved walking, especially in the Lake District. I had spent a lifetime climbing the Wainwrights and I was struggling to accept I’d never be “on top of the world” again, looking for miles across the mountains.

Nigel, looking across the mountains

It was then I hatched a plan. I wanted to walk. Then walk a distance and then build up enough strength to climb a Fell. How high? It didn’t matter; it just had to be in the Lake District and had to be in a Wainwright Guide.

For me, life’s obstacles aren’t problems, they’re puzzles waiting to be solved. With that attitude in place, I spent the next three years working tirelessly with my physiotherapist, setting and breaking goals.

I learned how to stand again, then take a few steps with a frame, and by Christmas 2022, I was managing 750 steps daily on walking sticks.

Then I set myself a bold target: a 5K walk to raise funds for Inflammatory Neuropathies UK. In May 2023, I completed five circuits of the field behind my house. It took five hours, exhausted me completely, but raised a good sum for a good cause. It was during recovery from this that my physiotherapist asked, “What’s next? You’ve done your 5k”. Without thinking, I said, “I want to climb a Lakeland fell.” “Let’s do it” she said.

We put 12 months on the clock but as with a lot of things in life, it didn’t go quite to plan.

Nigel and his team, on top of the world

My medication had to be adjusted due to global IVIg shortages. When it was reintroduced in 2024 though, it started to make a noticeable difference. I felt stronger. I could shower unaided, walk around the house without sticks, work in the garden again, even go to visit friends or on holidays as I didn’t need to rely on adapted bathrooms.

Then came the opportunity. My stepdaughter had booked a lodge in the Lake District for Spring 2025. She invited us to join, and we found another lodge on the same site. Suddenly, the dream had a date and the stage was set. I had six months to prepare.

I ramped up my training. I could walk farther without rests, I walked fields, beaches, country paths, and used a treadmill at full incline to simulate hills.

I researched possible Fells. Helvellyn and Blencathra were out of the question, so I looked towards Cat Bells, Castle Crag or Loughrigg Fell, taking great pleasure in delving into the wonderful guides produced by the great A.W.

We arrived Fallbarrow Park in April 2025 to glorious, unseasonal sunshine. I took it as a good omen, and I had also at last made a decision.

Cat Bell would be too busy, Castle Crag involved scrambling, so Loughrigg Fell near Grasmere seemed possible. Probably at the limit of what I anticipated at three miles but doable, and the promise of some wonderful views spurred me on.

After a couple of warm-up walks, the big day came - April 7th. I was joined by my wife, stepdaughter, her husband, two granddaughters, and our dogs. Quite a parade for an old chap with dodgy legs.

The route began at Ambleside, with a half-mile field walk to the river Rothay. A set of stepping stones was impassable for me, so I added an extra mile to loop around via a bridge. We then began the climb through lush rhododendrons which, with the heat of the day, looked and felt more like a tropical rainforest than a Lakeland Fell. The steep start was a shock, but I adjusted after a couple of tumbles. We emerged onto open Fell and I had the first feeling of elation that I was finally back and actually climbing the hills again. The months and years of anticipation and dreaming were over, and it was not a disappointment.

The summit of Loughrigg has one of the best views from the top. I could see all the summits of the Fairfield Horseshoe, Dollywaggon Pike leading onto Helvellyn, and in the other direction, Coniston Old Man. Now I started to fully understand and appreciate the dream that had spurred me on and realised that I had achieved it. I may not have been able to climb all these summits again, but I had been able to experience them again and reinforce in my mind why it had been such a powerful drive over the last four years to be able to do so.

Then the Lake District sent me a celebratory message and token of recognition. A Lancaster Bomber passed overhead, flanked by Spitfires. This was the high point of the day, the icing on the cake.

The descent was hard. Nerve pain, stumbling feet, and steep trails tested me, and I fell twice. The steep decline was soon over though, and we explored Loughrigg Terrace and the cave before the walk back to Ambleside.

All told, I had walked nearly six miles in just under eight hours. For two days afterward, I could barely move, this hardly mattered though. What mattered was that I had achieved the dream, I had completed my challenge. But it was bigger than that. Ever since I have had this condition, I have set myself a series of challenges and targets. At first it was to get out of the wheelchair, then to be able to walk without a frame. After two years I set a target of being able to walk 5000 steps in a day. Then to do a 5k sponsored walk. This latest Lakeland challenge was not to raise money or awareness. It was purely for me to be able to once again do something I have spent my life doing and thought I would no longer be able to do.

Having achieved this, it has given me the realisation that I have not lost forever the life I had before. I now feel I am once again able to do all the things I want to. I maybe need to do them more at a distance or at a slower, lower pace. But I can still do them. It has given me a deeper understanding of my condition and what my body is able to do. It has made the future look very positive and be there to be enjoyed once more.