Come up close by so you can hear
Sit easy in your chair
I’ve a tale to tell of men so bold
And it happened just out there

We often ask the question now
‘What will become of me?’
And lose the fact that what we do
Creates identity

And so it is, with choices made
We build who we become
The stories of our life fulfill
Our quest to be someone

And, while certain stories special claim
Distinctive acumen
The Bob Graham Round is one great tale
That truly maketh men

You act like you choose it but know
You are the one it chose
The spirit of Bob Graham chose you
And this is how it goes…

An awesome soaring vision looms
It creeps up on your mind
Imagination overtaken
Your destiny defined

You’re in a grip, there’s no escape
Ambition’s hook is barbed
To hold you there until it bleeds
Your name in honour carved

It takes each one who dares to dream
That they might wear a crown
Of glory by the fells bestowed
And slowly grinds them down

To source their spring of humbled fear
Respect in knowledge found
Then free their passion to contend
Bob Graham’s awesome round

Our eyes meet at the Moot Hall door
Clock face watches, counting down
Tightening laces, checking maps
And away! Soon mounting

The giant and skirted Skiddaw
You touch her velvet hem
A veil of heather, softening breezes
Smooth this seabed gem

Great Calva and Blencathra, too
Were once a seabed floor
Where moons tracked tides your feet now fall
On their uplifted shore

Three summits from the ocean raise
Your spirit as the night
Descends you safely, down the ridge-line
Refreshment into sight

Fuelling pit stop, pacers change
The moon is shining, too
En-cloak your fears, run through the night
Draw dawn post-haste to you

Searching torch beams light the way
Rising Clough Head in the dark
Watching silent from a distance
Guardians of the park

Standing stones hold firm their circle
Castlerigg’s sentries hear
The heartbeat of your life a blink
‘Gainst their four thousand year

Illusions solve our mysteries
Relieve our rise and fall
With hope nito your chosen faith
Trust your god’s personal call

Then dance on the Dodds into the night
A band of brothers three
Arms outstretched on shoulders resting
Let friendship set you free

Fly down to the pass where a stick
In the ground tethers fells
Their grass blown away.
Raise, Whiteside and the Lower Man yells

‘There blows a great whale from the sea!’
Fall silent as you breach
The lofty humpback shoulder foaming
Helvellyn’s shingle beach

Nethermost and Dollywaggon Pike
And there, beyond Fairfield
Voices in the dawn mist clearing
Grasmere’s ghosts revealed

The wandering poet’s lonely cloud
Speaks to the soul we share
Private worlds by words connected
‘Daffodils! Everywhere!’

Endorphins’ magic opiates
Hallucinations charm
‘Is this the land of Xanadu?
Are you the Kubla Kahn?’

‘Or Ozymadias the King
Of mountain, stream and vale?’
Seat Sandal brings you back to earth
It’s breakfast time at Dunmail

Tea and chocolate, changing kit
Muesli, rice, bananas
Old endurance advice fashioned
Boiled eggs and pyjamas

Now the challenge undertaken
Starts to answer back
No forgiving second chances
Section three needs attack

Steel Fell, Calf Crag, High Raise
These names do not belong to maps
Or ministries but to farmers
Who so-named their land, leaving gaps

In books, ’cause they had no need
For writing down, just keeping
Alive a place with a name… we forget
Whose lives we are steeped in

Now you are moving.
Sergeant Man. Thunacar Knott flies by
Castle turrets fortress fending
Pinnacles Pike the sky

With a view that catches your breath
Steep grey rock faces glide
Swooping meadows caught by walls
See the seasonal tide

Now, hold that moment, hold it now
And light it with the sun
Blue the sky. Warm the whispering wind
Let it run…let it run…

Let it run with a voice
That’ll only say, ‘I can’
And run for a dream that soars
Beyond belief of man

Claim Rossett Pike then breathe
Inhale the land of the giants
Cloud-shrouded shoulders
Mountain heads, unshakeable defiance

Storm-blasted boulders, wind-strewn rocks
Buttress, slab and Bowfell
Ask you why you walk here straining
Explaining’s hard to tell

Is it worth the moment’s pleasure
Of a summit’s gain reward?
Is your life enhanced? Complete?
By a day of pain endured?

There is no need for complicated
Psychology of man
We walk enthralled as children play
Love it because we can

Esk Pike then, that mass of mountain
Blocked by doormen
Great End, Ill Crag, Broad Crag staring
Rush the threshold and then

See the big one in the middle
No stopping now, no looking back
Scafell Pike is dominated
Stick together as a pack

Move in closer to the quarry
Lord’s Rake with your presence grace
Grind the absent smell of rock
Turning left it’s face to face

In the bouldered chimney climbing
Shaft of light illuminates
Hand on rock as one encountered
Human moment illustrates

Everyone’s endeavour to
Make sense of life on earth
Breaking sunshine’s welcome rapture
Scafell’s prize, effort’s worth

Storming headlong down the mountain
Wasdale waits, sweetened tea
Anxious squinters eye the skyline
‘There they are!’ Running free

Welcome respite in the car park
Support from friends and family
Check the clock and check the schedule
Sense the possibility

When the gods condemned a man
To push a stone uphill
The angle of Yewbarrow
Was unbelievable

They chose an easy mountain
Their punishment from hell
And kept this grassy knoll
A gentle picnic fell

Pounding heartbeat, sweat beads dripping
Irritate focused eyes
Step on step with muscles burning
Your spirit never dies

Thankful fingers touch the cairn stones
Hobble stiff, there’s no-one watching
Take a drink. Carry on
Quiet voice, ‘Glad you’re gone’

Down the follower’s foot-trod path
Hit the ridge, Red Pike route
On to Steeple, on a bearing
Flapjack square, barely chewed

Round the valley-head to Pillar
Feet ache – minor drama
Distant fell tops shine horizon
Awe-struck panorama

Looking Stead and Black Sail Pass
Herdwick warders of the kirk
Still surprised at seeing people
Sheep panic, lambs berserk

Kirk Fell saved you for this moment
Now you’re done warming-up
You want success and so do we
Get stuck in, climb on up

Great Gable holds a special place
In many a walker’s heart
A lofty platform in the sky
Great views with sad depart

Shared with the lives of greater men
Plaque in memoriam
Their freedom lost, our freedom gained
We will remember them

Breaking silence from the fell top
‘Keswick Ho!’ your buglers call
Down the rock-fall to Green Gable
Check the time, as before

Moving swiftly on to Brandreth
Fenceposts’ compass bearing
Northward to the top of Grey Knotts
Waiting faces staring

When they see you, they know, too
That what you dreamt, can be done
Shared excitement built together
Tempts the fruit labour’s won

Go now safely. We are with you
Be strong. Dale Head. March on
The edge of empire, Roman
Be today’s centurion

One hundred soldiers at your back
Are waiting on your word
A solemn oath in honour made
Must be in deed conferred

Hindscarth with affection taken
Then it’s number forty-two
Gently touch the final marker
Robinson thanks you, too

Now your journey, flattening out
It knows how far you’ve come
From Skiddaw in the north and back
Receive your welcome home

Bouquets and bunting line the street
The clock is smiling back
Our eyes meet at the Moot Hall door
Thanks for coming back

Friends and family gather round
To share in your success
You kept your word as they kept theirs’
No feeling can repress

The sense of satisfaction felt
By everyone involved
Celebrate with pleasure now
Your story can be told

It’s not a tale, a list of facts
Of miles and distance run
But one of meaning, fabled here
And shared with everyone

Remember then, when those who ask you
‘Why?’ with a puzzled face
In meaning sweat and blisters lie
The glories of this place

And in reflective moments
Recall the summits named
You conquered England’s Everest
A personal summit claimed

We often ask the question now
‘What will become of me?’
And lose the fact that what we do
Creates identity

And so it is, with choices made
We build who we become
The stories of our life fulfill
Our quest to be someone

And, while certain stories special claim
Distinctive acumen
The Bob Graham Round is one great tale
That truly maketh men