It’s usually raining when you realize you’ve made a mistake with the Nuttalls. You’ll be standing on a plateau in the North Pennines, or perhaps somewhere deep in the mid-Wales desert, looking at a GPS device that tells you you’re at the summit, while your eyes tell you that you’re just standing in a particularly deep puddle. That is the reality of this list. It isn't about the grand, sweeping ridges of the posters; it's about a 15-metre (49ft) rule that forces you to acknowledge every bump, shoulder, and satellite peak that reaches the 2,000-foot (609.6m) mark.

Most people are content with the Hewitts or the Wainwrights. The Wainwrights are a subjective, pictorial collection, and the Hewitts at least have the mercy of a 30-metre (98ft) drop to filter out the minor bumps. The Nuttalls, however, are for the people who look at a 15-metre rise and think, "Yeah, that counts." It’s a list that demands a certain level of topographical stubbornness. You aren't just visiting the mountains; you're cataloguing the wrinkles of the landscape.

The Vital Statistics

Metric	Detail
Total Count	446 (254 in England, 192 in Wales)
Height Requirement	609.6m (2,000ft) and above
Prominence Rule	Minimum 15m (49ft) drop on all sides
List Keepers	Database of British and Irish Hills (DoBIH)
Original Authors	John and Anne Nuttall (Published 1989-90)
Highest Point	Scafell Pike, England (978m / 3,209ft)
Lowest Point	Birks, Lake District (610m / 2,001ft)
Most Remote Point	Furman, Pennines (Deep within the Cross Fell wilderness)
Hardest Technicality	Pillar Rock, Lake District (Requires a multi-pitch rock climb)
First Completion	John and Anne Nuttall (Completed 16th June 1990)
Men's Speed Record	James Harris (All 446 in 41 days, 10 hours, 22 minutes, 2022)
Women's Speed Record	Sarah Thompson (First documented female solo completion in 1994)
First Dog Completion	'Tess', a Border Collie owned by the Nuttalls (Completed 1990)

Why This List Exists

Before John and Anne Nuttall sat down to map this out in the late 1980s, the hills of England and Wales were a bit of a mess. You had various people claiming certain peaks were important, but there was no standardized "drop" rule like the one used for the Munros in Scotland. The Nuttalls decided that if a peak was over 2,000 feet (609.6m) and had a 15-metre (49ft) re-ascent from its parent peak, it was a separate entity.

They published their findings in The Mountains of England & Wales across two volumes. What they created wasn't just a list of hills; it was a map of the high ground’s character. By choosing 15 metres, they ensured that you would see everything. If you follow this list, you see the bits of the mountains that other walkers just skip over on their way to the pub. It is a slow-burn obsession. It takes you into the "white spaces" on the map where the paths haven't been trodden into motorways.

The classification is now maintained by the Database of British and Irish Hills (DoBIH), and they don't take it lightly. We are currently living through an era of "hill-shaming," where high-precision GPS technology is used to prove that a hill is actually 10cm (4 inches) shorter than previously thought. This has led to some high-profile demotions. If a hill drops to 609.5m (1,999.7ft), it’s out. No exceptions. This happened to several hills over the last decade, often leaving people who thought they had finished the list with a sudden, nagging gap in their records.

The Identity of the Terrain: Hags and High Ground

There is a specific "feel" to a Nuttall day that you don't get elsewhere. Because of that 15-metre rule, you spend an inordinate amount of time on the high plateaus. In the Lake District, this can be quite pleasant—rocky outcrops and firm grass. But in the Pennines or the Berwyns, it means "hags."

Peat hags are essentially the earth’s way of telling you to go home. They are deep, black channels eroded into the peat by centuries of rain. Navigating them is like walking through a giant, soggy maze. You’ll be aiming for a Nuttall that is only 500 metres (1,640ft) away, but because of the hags, you’ll end up walking three times that distance, leaping over black slime and hoping your boots stay on your feet.

This is the terrain identity of the Nuttalls. It’s not always about the vertical gain; it’s about the horizontal struggle. It’s about the grit it takes to keep moving when the landscape is entirely monochrome and the summit is just a pile of stones that looks exactly like the one you left twenty minutes ago.

The Language of the Hills

One of the best things about the Nuttalls is how the names tell you exactly what you’re in for if you know the linguistic roots. These hills were named by people who lived on them, not tourists.

In the Lake District, the Old Norse influence is heavy. Take Glaramara (783m / 2,569ft). It’s a wonderful, multi-topped Nuttall that feels like a mountain in its own right. The name likely comes from glama-rygr, meaning "mountain of the echoing noise." If you’ve ever been up there when the wind is whipping through the crags, you’ll understand why. Or Blencathra (868m / 2,848ft)—a Cumbric name where "Blen" means hill and "Cathra" likely refers to a chair or seat. It describes the physical shape of the mountain perfectly.

In Wales, the names are often even more descriptive. Plynlimon, or Pen Pumlumon Fawr (747m / 2,451ft), is a classic. "Pen" means head or top, and "Pumlumon" refers to the "five peaks" or "five springs." It’s an honest name. It tells you there are five significant rises in that area and that it’s going to be very, very wet. Then you have Moel Siabod (726m / 2,382ft). "Moel" usually means a bald, rounded hill. While Siabod has a rocky side, its overall presence is that of a massive, brooding dome sitting apart from the rest of the Snowdonia (Eryri) range.

Understanding these names changes the walk. You aren't just looking for a coordinate; you're looking for the "hill of the echoing scream" or the "head of the five springs." It adds a layer of history to the physical exhaustion.

Conservation and the "Blank Ground"

The Nuttalls present a unique conservation challenge. Because the list includes so many "minor" tops, walkers are often tempted to leave the established paths to reach a specific summit. This leads to "path braiding."

When a main path gets boggy, people walk six inches to the left. Then the next person walks six inches to the left of that. Eventually, you have a scar on the landscape that is twenty feet wide. In areas like the Langdale Pikes or around Pen y Fan (886m / 2,907ft), this is a major problem. Organizations like Fix the Fells spend hundreds of thousands of pounds every year trying to repair these scars using traditional stone pitching—essentially building a staircase out of the mountain’s own rock.

When you're out on the more obscure Nuttalls, the ones without a path, the rule is simple: spread out. Don't follow the footsteps of the person in front of you. It sounds counterintuitive, but by walking on different patches of grass, you prevent a new path from forming. It’s a way of keeping the hills "blank" for the next person.

Where to Start: Getting the "Nuttall" Feel

If you’re new to this, don't go straight for the remote Pennine bogs. You need to ease into the logic of the list.

High Street, Lake District (828m / 2,717ft):
This is as easy as it gets. It’s a broad, flat ridge named after the Roman road that once carried legions over the tops. It is a fantastic introduction because once you are up there, you can knock off several Nuttalls—like Rampsgill Head (792m / 2,598ft) and Thornthwaite Crag (784m / 2,572ft)—without much descent. It teaches you how the 15-metre rule works in a friendly environment.
Moel Siabod, North Wales (726m / 2,382ft):
This is a "lonely" mountain. It sits on its own, looking across at the Glyderau and the Snowdon (Yr Wyddfa) range. It’s a great Nuttall because it feels like a standalone achievement. The terrain is varied—some bog, some rock, and a lot of grass. It’s a perfect microcosm of what the Welsh Nuttalls are like.
Pen y Fan, South Wales (886m / 2,907ft):
You won't be alone here. It’s the highest point in the Brecon Beacons (Bannau Brycheiniog) and is incredibly accessible. However, it is a mandatory part of the list. Walking from the main car park is a bit of a slog on a gravel path, but once you reach the top and look across to Corn Du (873m / 2,864ft)—which is its own separate Nuttall—you start to appreciate how the classification works.

Warnings and Realities

The Nuttalls are not always friendly. There are parts of this list that require actual skill and parts that require a very high tolerance for misery.

Pillar Rock (Lake District):
This is the one that stops people from finishing. The hill, Pillar, is easy. But Pillar Rock, the massive thumb of rock sticking out of its side, is its own Nuttall. You cannot walk to the top of it. This is not a hill walk; it is a vertical rock face. Reaching the summit of the Rock requires technical rock climbing skills, ropes, and a partner. Even the "easiest" route, the Slab and Notch, is a Moderate rock climb that is lethal if you fall. Many walkers reach 445 Nuttalls and realize they can’t do the last one without a harness. It is the ultimate "gatekeeper."

The Warcop Range (North Pennines):
Hills like Mickle Fell (788m / 2,585ft) are a logistical nightmare. It’s located in a military firing range. You can't just turn up on a Sunday and go for a walk. You have to check the firing times, stay on specific marked routes, and hope the Ministry of Defence isn't feeling particularly active that day. It is a vast, desolate area. If the weather turns, you are in a very vulnerable position. There are no shelters here; just you, the sheep, and the occasional unexploded shell.

The Berwyns (Mid-Wales):
These are the hills that test your soul. They are notoriously boggy. A hill like Post Gwyn (665m / 2,182ft) might look small on the map, but the terrain between it and its neighbors is some of the most difficult "non-technical" ground in the UK. You will move slowly. You will get wet. You will wonder why you didn't just stay in the valley.

The Psychology of the 15-Metre Drop

So, what is the point? Why go to all this effort for a 15-metre drop?

It’s about the full picture. If you only walk the Munros or the Wainwrights, you’re reading the "Best Of" compilation of the British landscape. When you walk the Nuttalls, you’re reading the whole book—including the boring chapters and the footnotes. There is a deep, quiet satisfaction in knowing that you’ve stood on every significant bit of high ground in your country.

You become a bit of an expert on the subtle differences in the landscape. You learn that the mud in the Peak District feels different from the mud in the Carneddau. You start to notice how the vegetation changes by just a few meters of elevation. It’s a very human way to interact with the world—taking a chaotic, wild landscape and trying to make sense of it with a list and a ruler.

It isn't for everyone. If you want "views" and "glory," stick to the 3,000-footers. But if you want a long-term project that will take you to the weirdest, quietest, and most honest corners of England and Wales, the Nuttalls are waiting for you. Just bring a compass and some very good socks.

The Nuttalls Database

Essential Resources

The Mountains of England & Wales (Volumes 1 & 2): The original source material by John and Anne Nuttall. These books remain the cultural foundation of the list, detailing the routes and the reasoning behind each inclusion.
Mountain Rescue England & Wales: For safety advice and weather updates.
The Snowdonia Society: Focused specifically on the protection and conservation of the North Wales uplands, providing updates on local environmental challenges and volunteer path work.
The Lake District Foundation: Dedicated to funding and managing conservation projects across the Lakes, with a particular focus on repairing the damage caused by heavy footfall on high ridges.

Hills Featured in this Guide

Scafell Pike: 978m (3,209ft)
Pen y Fan: 886m (2,907ft)
Corn Du: 873m (2,864ft)
Blencathra: 868m (2,848ft)
High Street: 828m (2,717ft)
Rampsgill Head: 792m (2,598ft)
Mickle Fell: 788m (2,585ft)
Thornthwaite Crag: 784m (2,572ft)
Glaramara: 783m (2,569ft)
Plynlimon (Pen Pumlumon Fawr): 747m (2,451ft)
Moel Siabod: 726m (2,382ft)
Post Gwyn: 665m (2,182ft)
Mynydd Graig Goch: 610m (2,001ft)
Birks: 610m (2,001ft)

The Nuttalls: The 15-Metre Obsession