Mists and diaphanous veils of cloud that have adorned Lake District ridges these past few weeks make it difficult to distinguish one peak from another when tops cluster along an overcast skyline. Broad daylight makes no difference either.

Scafell Shamrock looks like Scafell Crag when approaching up the Brown Tongue footpath from Wasdale Head. It sports a bubbling spring near its base, where marigolds and watercress grow in more clement weather, and fingertip-tingling climbs, such as Silver Lining and Gilt Edge Eliminate. Only on closer view does it shrink, dwarfed by the real "Scorfle" looming ogre-like from behind, complete with Moss Ghyll and the Pinnacle Face.

Pillar Rock, approached from the east, is shielded by yet another Shamrock, which, from the Robinson cairn on the high level route, resembles the Rock itself. To one side is Shamrock Gully, into which in 1896 Owen Glynne Jones, famous for his gymnastic climbing, fell swinging like a pendulum on his rope, skittling "like ninepins" his compatriots gathered in a cave. On the other is the black gash of Walker's Gully – named after a fell-goer who plunged to his death after mistaking it for the descent in 1883 – first climbed by "the only genuine Jones" in melting ice.

Nor is Pillar shielded only from the east. Sellafield workers driving westwards daily over Cold Fell go by what some say is Pillar Rock, beetling above the village of Ennerdale Bridge.

Crag Fell Pinnacles is the name of this cliff, rising above the eminence of Angler's Crag, which plummets into the lake below. When I arrived here during the 1950s to live in digs at the old vicarage (before it burned down), I was convinced it was Pillar Rock gracing the skyline above – seemingly so convenient – only to be told next day of my error.