3.5 White Moss? Checkmate i think...!
There is a picture in my copy of Wainwright, drawn in what appears to be blood.
It is below the "Exchelsior : Departure from Edale" picture.  It depicts a cagoule clad walker with an enormous rucksack, up to his waist in slurping peat bog examining a book (Wainwright) with a puzzled expression. There is an arrow behind that points off to one side. The caption is simple. "The Owner of this book Wayfinding in White moss Page 151 ........ Its that way folks!"
And so it was!
There is nothing white about white moss. All the pain of Kinder watershed repeated and multiplied ... oh and washed in a sort of unsavoury gravy. We struggle and slip and swear.
There is, I'm sure, a cosmic accountant (to go with the cosmic censor) Whenever someone does something dumb or is lucky, the cosmic accountant is there to equal it all up.....
I look back, and notice with a slight start that Mark, over to once side appears to be smugly walking on water. "Is there anything you feel you should be telling us right now" I snarl, not best pleased at his apparent dryness. "Ah!" he grins "I found this bit of..." but we never knew what. Just then his foot slipped on a soggy slope on the peat and the rest was lost from view as he slid arse first into the deepest part of the bog. Equilibrium restored.