Every now and then you share a moment with a place, a person or both that will stick with you forever. This weekend I had one of those moments, freezing my knackers off halfway up Coniston Old Man eating a lukewarm dehydrated meal. It had been a prime November day in the lakes. Pissing round with your mates whilst bagging Wainwrights, living on your own time with not a care in the world - The kind of day you long for throughout the week. The hike was steady and the Wainwrights were out in all their glory, the rain even held off for the most part.  The pitch was flat and secluded and even though I accidentally left Nappers tent zip open for him to freeze to death (Sorry mate but still your fault), it couldn’t have been a better place to kip for the night. And as we sat there, shivering, debating whether 6:30pm is a credible bedtime for three fully-grown adults, the most amazing thing happened.   The thick cloud that suffocated the mountains for most of the day split perfectly, showcasing the most incredibly beautiful, nearly-full moon that seemed so close you could almost pick it out of the sky. The cold no longer mattered, the body no longer felt tired and any of the stresses of everyday life just melted away. In this moment, with my two mates, there was nothing else to do apart from watch the sky perform this show, which seemed to be for our eyes only. And that got me thinking, it’s moments like these that keep you coming back for more. Yes we got pissed wet through the following day, had no gas to cook breakfast and had no water until our mouth was dryer than the Sahara, but does it matter? Absolutely bloody not. Would I do it all again? In a heartbeat. There are so many people on this planet who will never experience those moments the mountains offer so often, the ones which put everything into perspective. Whether they care or not is another story, but having shared many of these moments throughout my time, i can firmly say the world would be a better place if everybody spent more time connecting to nature in this way. It’s with this mantra that Summit Systems was born. Making lightweight, stripped-back quality kit to help people seek those soul soothing moments with nature.  And that’s our mission, to motivate people to get off their screens, get out there and experience what truly matters. Over and Out  

Start: Coniston Grid Reference: SD 30197 97594 Route Type: Circular (Anti-Clockwise) If bagging Wainwrights is your hustle, this one is not to be overlooked. This route ticks off seven over the course of 23.5k and 1600m of elevation whilst delivering what every good expedition in the Lakes should - Incredible pitches and killer ascent. Tucked far enough away from the hustle and bustle of Windemere whilst still being accessible, Coniston was once home to a thriving Coppermine that dates back to Roman times. Nowadays however, the area is more accustomed to seasoned hikers and adventurists.  Standing tall behind the town, the Coniston Fells are the perfect playground for any explorer and can be conquered in one expedition, or, as we would recommend, over two days to experience everything this changing landscape has to offer. From the village, head East towards the fells. Be prepared for the ascent out on Coniston towards Walna Scar car park as it is not for the faint hearted. Upon arriving at the car park, take the steady pull up towards the first Wainwright of the day, Dow Crag. From Dow Crag onwards the route stays high along the ridgeline towards Coniston Old Man which can make for some simply incredible viewing should the weather play ball. Once at the summit, we recommend descending around 200 metres towards the tarn to pitch up. This spot offers the evening solitude of the mountains and a morning view you want on repeat.   From here, re-trace your steps up the Old man, before continuing anti-clockwise to Brim Fell, Grey  Friar, Great Carrs, Swirl How and finally Wetherlam, where you will make the steady descent back to Coniston via the old Coppermines. Once back, settle into The Crown for some heart-warming pub grub and a beverage of your choice whilst you thaw out in front of the fireplace. As with all expeditions in the Lakes, the weather can turn quickly, so make sure you have spare warm, dry layers, adequate waterproofs, suitable footwear and enough gas to cook your dinner Pro Tip: Take a pair of Swimmers for the descent as the Coppermines offer the most beautifully refreshing plunge pools en-route back to the village. Over and Out  

If you’ve got to this blog, you probably already know what we’re about and who we are. But in this field note, I set off wanting to talk about the process of design and how it works here at Summit Systems. Then, as I started to vomit some words into a Google Doc, I realised it wasn’t really the process I wanted to talk about at all. It was the passion for design itself, and for building something with my three mates. Hopefully, it might inspire someone else to create something from the madness that wakes them from their dreams. Design. I’d argue it’s the most important process in the business - although Tomo would probably waffle on about some marketing BS (sorry, Tomo). Before Summit Systems, I had a solid job. One that would be the dream for most people. I finished at 11:00 on Fridays (yep, 11:00 a.m.), got to travel a fair bit, and had genuinely sound bosses, for the most part! There was hardly ever a dull moment in the office, now whether that’s a good thing or not is another story. I had the freedom to design new products, and was rarely stopped if I spent a day sat at a sewing machine because I couldn’t face another one in front of a computer screen. But the problem was, it wasn’t ours. As a designer, I’ve always craved to make things. To finish the day with something tangible you can hold on your hands at the end of it. And although I often had that opportunity, it never felt like those products were mine. At the old job, there were days I’d get properly psyched about a new design tweak or a product concept. I’d go to bed thinking about it. For a lot of people, having work on their mind at bedtime might sound like a nightmare, but for me, that’s great. Design is my passion and the day I stop going to bed thinking about my designs will be the day I pack it all in and go into designing road signs. But it turns out that going to sleep with ideas on your mind is the bare minimum. Until Summit Systems, I never understood that the real excitement, the ideas that make your pulse race, come from the dreams that wake you up. I’ve been wanting to write a field note about my design process for a while, but I wasn’t sure what bits of knowledge I wanted to pass on, what key aspects I felt to be most important or could be most useful to you. I’m only 28, so it’s not like I’ve got any deep philosophical wisdom to bestow in the grand scheme of things. But then, after a long day on CAD producing technical tent drawings on another random day of working on a Summit Systems project , I woke up at 04:30 with an idea about how we could make tents clip together so you can chat to your mates when it’s pissing it down outside. But that moment,  half-asleep, half-alive with excitement, that’s when it hit me. True passion isn’t going to bed with something on your mind. It’s waking up because of it. Summit Systems was built on that kind of restless energy, the ideas that don’t let you sleep, the sketches drawn on the back of receipts, the half-baked prototypes that somehow work better than the “proper” ones. That’s what drives us onward. We started Summit Systems in the car, on a trip up to Scotland from just spitballing ideas of names and what we wanted to bring to the outdoor space. Design isn’t just our job; it’s the thing that drags us out of bed at stupid o’clock with a head full of ideas and a notebook that can’t keep up. So if there’s something that wakes you before your alarm - an idea, a problem, a wild dream that won’t let go - go and grab it. That’s where the good stuff lives. That’s where we will be. Or you’ll be seeing my road signs when you’re out and about. Over and out.