Silver Medal Summits: In Praise of Britain's Second-Best Mountains

Ask a hundred hillwalkers to name Britain's highest peaks and you'll get Ben Nevis, Snowdon and Scafell Pike without a pause. Ask them to name the second-highest in each nation and watch the room go quiet.

That's a shame, because the number twos are where things get interesting. The giants get the car parks, the cafes and the conga lines of charity walkers. Their understudies get ridges, solitude and — in at least one case — a rope, a helmet and a proper shot of adrenaline.

Scotland: The Inaccessible Pinnacle, Sgurr Dearg

Sgurr Dearg, on Skye's Cuillin ridge, tops out at 978.6 metres — a whisker below Bidean nam Bian's neighbour... no, wait, a whisker below nothing Scottish, because it's second only to Ben Nevis itself among Scottish peaks south of the ridge system's highest. (Pedants, hold your letters: we're counting the Munro tables here, and the In Pinn is the one everyone remembers.)

The point isn't the arithmetic. The point is that to stand on Scotland's second-finest summit you must climb a 50-metre blade of rock, usually roped, with a heart-stopping drop on either side. Ben Nevis asks for your stamina. Sgurr Dearg asks for your nerve.

Bag it via the tourist-friendly approach from Glen Brittle — 'tourist' being generous, it's still a two-hour slog over rough ground — and save it for a dry, calm day. If the exposure isn't your cup of tea, the summit of the Dun Caan-like ridge shoulder beside it still gives you the view without the vertigo.

England: Scafell, the Pike's Overlooked Sibling

England's highest point is Scafell Pike, 978 metres of boulder-field and busy paths. Nine hundred and sixty-two metres away — sorry, 962 metres of height, not distance — sits Scafell at 964 metres. Eight metres shorter, and by every practical measure, a different mountain entirely.

While the Pike hums with day-trippers, Scafell keeps its dignity. Reach it from Wasdale or, better, from Eskdale, and you'll get proper scrambling on the way up: Lord's Rake is a delight, threading a steep gully with a famous tunnel of boulders near the top. On a quiet weekday you can have the summit to yourself, with a bird's-eye view straight down onto the crowds below.

Same fells, same views, none of the queue. It's the best-kept open secret in Lakeland.

Wales: Carnedd Moel Siabod? No — Try Again

Wales is trickier. Snowdon (Yr Wyddfa) reigns at 1,085 metres, and the runner-up by most tables is... actually Glyder Fawr at 1,000.1 metres, just sneaking over the grand after a 2000s re-survey. And Glyder Fawr is glorious: a shattered, moonscape summit above Cwm Idwal, reached by scrambling the Devil's Kitchen or strolling up from the top of the Llanberis of Ogwen valleys.

The Glyderau in general are Snowdon's wilder, weirder cousins. Castell y Gwynt's dragon's-teeth rocks, the Cantilever, views right across to Tryfan — this is Welsh hillwalking at its most atmospheric, and you'll share it with a fraction of the footfall.

Northern Ireland: Slieve Donard's Shadow

Donard rules the Mournes at 850 metres, but Slieve Commedagh, its 767-metre neighbour across the col, is the connoisseur's choice. The Hare's Gap approach is lovely, the views over Newcastle and the coast are arguably better, and the granite tors on top are more photogenic than they've any right to be.

Why the Twos Win

There's a pattern here. The second-highest peaks tend to be harder to get to, more technically interesting and dramatically quieter. The giants were crowned partly by accident of survey and access; their neighbours often have better rock, better views and better stories.

So here's the Peakman challenge for your next big day out: skip the summit everyone's photographing and climb the one they've never heard of. Silver medal hills, gold medal days.