There is something special about a hill list based not on cold numerical measurement, but born of a simple love for the fells, says Matt Poulton; and that's why the Wainwrights are a classification that's hard to beat.

I reach the stony summit plateau of Great Gable, and jog over to the summit cairn. I pause my watch, the electronic bleep alien in the peace and stillness of the day. There is no wind, unusual for a fell of this height, and the day is warm with the spring sun shining down on me. I look around as I get my breath back and see a near-endless sea of fells stretching in every direction. Scores of hills of all different shapes and sizes jut into the sky like irregular jigsaw pieces. Pretty much every top I can see counts among the Wainwrights, the Lake District Fells classified by Alfred Wainwright all those years ago.

There's beauty in simplicity, and what could be simpler than 214 exquisite fells, chosen simply because they were important to one person?

Across the UK's uplands you'll find a host of different lists and classifications, where hills, mountains and even nondescript lumps are put into groups based on their various characteristics. Some are regional, and only cover summits within a certain area, such as the Birketts in the Lake District or the Munros in Scotland, while others cover the entirety of the UK, such as the Marilyns or the Simms. While the majority of classifications are based on defined measurements such as height and prominence, there are lists that adopt a more subjective methodology that draws on something more nebulous, but in a sense purer: the perceived importance of those summits. And the most famous of these lists, defined by a sense of significance, must the Wainwrights.

Despite being born in Blackburn, Alfred Wainwright's name is synonymous with the fells of the Lake District. A keen walker, he wrote and illustrated seven pocket-sized books that still sell today, the Pictorial Guides to the Lakeland Fells, between them detailing 214 fells in all their glory. Ranging in height from Scafell Pike at 978m, to Castle Crag, the smallest at just 290m, these have become known as the Wainwrights.

For many other mountain classifications, precise measurements are everything; but Wainwrights are simply those fells listed in the guides, summits that he deemed significant, either for their context within the landscape or on a more personal level. This classification stands alongside the more mathematically defined Birketts, which are the fells over 1,000ft in height within the bounds of the Lake District National Park. There are 514 Birketts, with all but two of the Wainwrights being Birketts (Castle Crag which, at 985ft, is too short, and Mungrisdale Common which is barely noticeable as a fell even when stood atop it). Of the two classifications, the Wainwrights are by far the most iconic and popular, the de-facto Lake District list for peak baggers to complete.

There is no getting away from how stunning the Wainwrights are, nor how varied, from the rocky moonscape of the Wasdale Fells, or the big crags on the Langdale fells to the picturesque beauty of the fells around Buttermere. They also contain a good number of high fells, scrambles and ridges - even rock climbs should you want to ascend a fell in a more challenging way. However, unlike at least some of the Munros in Scotland, each fell is also accessible without any obligatory scrambling, making them a far more accessible classification for prospective peak baggers. In contrast to the Highlands, the Cumbrian terrain is often rather easier, paths plentiful on the ground, and distances from valley to summit generally fairly modest. This is an inclusive list, achievable by many, and conveniently bounded within the small area of the Lake District. And due to their proximity to each other, you can link up numerous fells with ease, the interconnectedness of each to their neighbours giving you a sense of moving through a changing landscape as you travel between them.

However, the point of this piece is not about the mountains themselves, but how we've classified them.

There is something special about a hill list based not on cold hard numerical measurement, but born of a simple love for the fells. It seems obtuse to define something as special as a summit by mere arbitrary numbers. Hills listed within numerical-based, rigid classifications often change as, with better measuring systems, the peaks are re-measured and either declassified or given a new status. This is a particular feature of the Munros and Corbetts, with a number of summits having been reclassified following modern surveys. The Wainwrights, however, are set in stone and resistant to change. Advances in surveying technology can show you the exact height and precise prominence of a given hill with greater precision, but no measurement can change how important a fell was to Wainwright.

When you are on the Wainwrights, you may strive to see what Wainwright saw all those years ago, what made a particular fell stand out to him, what seemed to give it significance over others in that area. You make a special effort to look around, even if it is just for a second, and, while you may not see what Wainwright saw in that moment, you may find something that makes it stand out for you. The way the light plays on the valley below, ripples in a tarn, drystone walls running up the fells like a network of veins. These moments become intangible images in your mind, treasured memories of times on the fells, and, as you work through the Wainwrights, you'll formulate a mental scrapbook of treasured memories attributed to each.

Would I have chosen the same 214? Many a time I have looked up to a prominent peak, invariably a Birkett, and wondered why it was not classified by Wainwright, what made this one not significant in his mind. Other times I have stood on a fell and pondered why on earth it was included. A whole swathe of relatively non-prominent Wainwrights can be found to the back of Skiddaw, Loweswater and Ennerdale. What was he thinking? Consult the area guidebook and you may find out. Better yet, go and see for yourself.

There is an aesthetic appeal to the idea of ranking something as majestic as a hill simply by its perceived significance, rejecting the almost clinical approach, and replacing it with a more emotive, dare I say spiritual attachment. A summit chosen in such a way conveys an intense sense of worth; in the fell, and your journey up it. There is beauty in simplicity, and what could be simpler than 214 exquisite fells, chosen for one overriding reason, that they were important to one person? In a world of so much change, the 214 Wainwrights will remain as they are - in my opinion, the most perfect of our hill classifications.