Castleton

For the last day of my little break, I’d hoped to slot in another walk before heading over to Hope to catch the train back home. The weather forecast was, however, not looking so promising. Although I woke up to bright sunshine heavy rain and thunderstorms were forecast for the afternoon. So not wanting to get caught up on the hills in a heavy downpour a change of plan was in order. I decided I’d wander over to Castleton village and have a mooch. Although I’d been to Castleton a few times I’ve never looked around the village properly, so that seemed like a good option before I walked back across the fileds to Hope station.

Castleton is located at the end of the Hope valley, on the boundary of the Millstone Grit plateau of the Dark Peak to the north and the limestone landscape of the White Peak. hemmed in by the “Great Ridge” to the north and limestone hills to the west and south, it would be a dead end except for the dramatic Winnats Pass and Cave Dale, steep sided valleys cutting through the limstone.

A close up shot towards Winnat’s Pass

It’s an old settlement, going way back to before the Norman Conquest. There were certainly people around here before the Ronans, with the remains of an Iron Age fort still visible on top of MamTor. After 1086 the area came under the control of William Peveril, allegedly an illigmitate son of William the Bastard, who had a castle constructed overlooking the village – it’s ruins remain today under the stewardship of English Heritage.

Peveril’s castle on the hill overlooking the village

Although today it’s a “honeypot” attracting droves of tourists, walkers, cyclists and cavers, it was originally a working village, the main industry being mining for lead, other metals and the fluorite banded mineral known as “Blue John“. There’ several shops selling jewellry and trinkets using the attractive blue and yellow stone.

It was a relatively short, pleasant walk through the fields from the hostel on a sunny morning. I fancied a coffee, but none of the cafes opened until at least 9:30, so I had a wander around the narrow streets of the village. There were plenty of attractive stone cottages that would have once been the homes of miners and other workers.

The war memorial cross

A closer look at the memorial

When you’re in the village, you can’t fail to notice a huge cavern set back in the hillside. This the Peak Cavern, one of the four show caves near the village, although that’s not it’s original name. Until a visit by Queen Victoria it was known as the ‘Devil‘s Arse’. In the past the cave system was mined and later there was a rope works here. In more recent time, as well as being opened as a tourist attractions, it’s been used as a concert venue and a cinema.

After wandeing around I was ready for a coffee so indulged at the cafe attached to the Visitor Centre, by the main car park. There were several frustrated motorists looking for change as the car park doesn’t accept payments by card and since the events of the past 18 months people are less likely to be carrying coins in their pockets.

Refuelled with caffeine I set off on the walk back to Hope to catch the midday train.

Menacing clouds were gathering over the hills to the west

It’s a pleasant walk through the fields with views over to the Great Ridge.

The clouds continued to move in and were starting to look menacing as I approached the train station. This was the view looking back

I boarded my train just as the cloud moved in. The train headed straight towards it and as it emerged from the tunnel at Chinley the heavens opened.

We’d passed through the cloud by the time we reached Manchester Piccadilly where I just made the connection to Wigan. It was sunny by the time I got home. But that was the end of the good weather for a while – all changed the next day!.

A walk from Winster

The final day of my short break in the Peak District I followed another route from the Vertebrate Day Walks in the Peak District guide. Setting out from the former lead mining village of Winster, taking in woodland, heath, an ancient stone circle, gritstone rock formations and Elton, another former mining village. For at least part of this walk I would have been walking in the footsteps of some of my ancestors – my family history research had revealed that a great x 7 and great x 6 grandfathers had been born in Elton and my great x7 grandmother had been born in Winster. It’s likely that this branch of my tree originated a little further north, near High Wheeldon where I’d climbed two days before.

The family were lead miners and at one time, this part of the world, on the boundary between millstone grit and limstone geology, was lead mining country. My research revealed that, like a number of Derbyshire miners, moved to work in North Wales, in their case at the Minera mine near Wrexham. The father of the family died relatively young by modern standards at about 50. The nature of the work meant that lead miners were exposed to toxic dusts and other dangers and this was typical life expectancy.

I parked up in the free car park on the outskirts of Winster near the local school and after booting up and after a short walk along the road I climbed over a stile and set off across the fields, the grass still wet after the downpours the day before. No rain was forecast and although the sky was grey it brightened up towards the end of my walk.

I passed through a gate and entered the broadleaf woodland

The trees were quite dense and I had to duck under their branches in places.

After climbing up along the path I reached a track and then the route doubled back taking a dog leg through along a path higher up in the woods.

I passed the remains of of water wheel which would probably have been used to drain a former lead mine

I carried on along the path which emerged from the woods meeting a track. After a mile I turned off through fields of cattle and then past a farm and camp site before reaching the edge of Stanton Moor.

Stanton Moor is owned by Stanton Estates and managed by English Nature . The area has been occupied since prehistoric times and there are a large number of ancient monuments scatttered across the landscape, most of them hidden in the heather and undergrowth.

I crossed the moor

passing a number of millstone grit outcrops

passing Victorian folly, built to commemmorate the Reform Bill in 1832.

I eventually reached the Nine Ladies stone circle, an ancient monument in the care of English Heritage.

The names of the monuments derive from their associations with folk traditions, in which it is said that nine women were dancing on the Sabbath to a fiddler – the King Stone – and were turned to stone.

English Heritage

Time to stop and take a rest and a bite to eat, perching on a gritstone outcrop, and then carried on across the moor passing an old disused quarry

until I reached the “Cork Stone”, on of a number of “megaliths” found on the moor, Supposedly associated with ancient rituals.

The Cork Stone is certainly associated with one more modern ritual – the footholds carved into the rock are evidence of the Victorian version of “bouldering“.

A right turn and a short walk along a path took me off the moor, joining a quiet road. After a relatively short walk on the tarmac , I turned off opposite a stone works, crossed a car park and took a path through the woods until I reached the small village of Birchover.

I took the track past the Druid Inn, which looked like a god place to stop – but I carried on.

The track took me through pleasant farmland

and finally a path through a field.

Crossing the road and then through a field I reached a track which was part of the Limestone Trail. Turning right I follwed this route heading through fields up towards Robin Hood’s Stride.

I took a slight diversion to visit the Hermit’s Cave at the bottom of the Cratcliffe Tor gritstone outcrop

To be honest, I found it rather underwhelming!

Leaving the cave it was only a short walk to Robin Hood’s Stride, a large gritstone Tor.

The legendary Robin Hood is supposed to have between the towers at either end of the tor. He must have had extremely long legs!

Time for another rest before carrying on across a field before meeting a minor road. I then had to tread the tarmac for about a mile before climbing over a stile and descending down and then up a path crossing fields of cattle heading towards my ancestral village of Elton.

On reaching the village, the sun was shining. Given the family connection I had to explore a little. I had a look in the church graveyard but I couldn’t see any gravestones for possible family members. Not so suprising really as they lived in the early 18th Century and being poor lead miners it’s unlikely any ancestors buried here could have afforded a headstone.

I had a wander round the village . There were plenty of old houses, some of which may have been miners’ dwellings, although today they’re desirable and expensive stone cottages.

The village isn’t very big so it didn’t take long to explore. I carried on along the road before rejoining the Limestone Trail heading towards Winster.

My route took me through the older part of the village, which used to be a market town and larger than Elton

I passed attractive stone cottages that were probably originally the home of the better off miners.

I had a wander down the main street

The village shop is owned by the local Community

The old Market House is in the care of the National Trust and was the first property they aquired in the Peak District back in 1906.

The NT website tells us

The House itself is two storeys high and rests upon a massive stone base. It follows the traditional pattern of such buildings, originally having the whole of the ground floor open with the upper storey supported by five arches. The date at which these arches were filled in is not known but it was probably during the decline of the market, between 1795 and 1855. The upper chamber is mainly of brick resulting in an attractive contrast with the stone arches and facings.

National Trust

and the building is listed by English Heritage.

I was starting to feel tierd by now so made my way back to my car. It had been a cracking walk with lots of interest and a good end to an enjoyable break. I headed home hoping to get back in time to watch the England v Germany match on TV. I hadn’t realised it was an early kick off but managed to get home in time to catch the end of the first half.

Down by the Dove

The second day of my little break in the White Peak I’d decided on another walk from one of the little Vertebrate Publishing guide books of walks in the Peak District that would take me along the banks of the Dove, as far as Milldale then back via Alstonefield before returning to Hartington on a higher stretch of the Dove. The weather forecast was a little iffy with rain promised for Hartington late afternoon

The sky was looking moody as I set off along a track directly opposite the hostel, then through a field,

across a narrow road and down another old track (what would have been called a “lonning” in Cumbria)

This is dairy country

then around some fields and down a path leading down hill to the river

and emerging at Wolfscote Dale, a very attractive deep sided valley in the care of the National Trust, runs northwest to southeast and is deep and steep-sided with a series of weirs along the crystal clear waters of the River Dove. A riverside path runs along the Derbyshire bank of the Dove.

The scenery, even on a dull day, was impressive, as I passed a succession of massive limestone outcrops,

and through pleasant meadows and woodland.

At the end of Wolfscote dale the river is diverted west by a limstone mass known as Shining Tor. Search for this on the net and you’ll find plenty of references to a more well known hill of the same name on the moors not far from the Cat and Fiddle on the pass between Macclesfield and Buxton. there was a road crossing a bridge over the river and then running parrallel to it forking with one branch going up hill to Alstonefield.

Although my next waypoint was the attractive riverside village of Milldale, and the easy option was to follow the road, I took the harder, but more attractive option. Turning left I took a path running parallel to the road wending my way in the opposite direction to the village. After a short while Iturned right to take the path up hill to the top of Shining Tor. It was at this point that the heavens opened.

The wet weather was coming up from the south and as that was the direction I’d been walking I’d hit it as it was making it’s way towards Hartington. I expected that I was probably going to get rained on for the rest of the walk.

I donned my cagoule (expecting rain I already had the rain cover over my rucksack) as the rain came down in cats and dogs.

Reaching the top the path turned west along the top of the ridge. Despite the rain, grey skies and cloud the views down the valley were still pretty good.

Approaching Milldale the path descended steeply. I needed to take care as the limestone rock underfoot can be treachourously slippy in the rain. Time to take my poles out to give me some stability.

A narrow bridge crossed the Dove and led into the small village. An old packhorse bridge known as the Viator’s Bridge, it’s apparently mentioned in The Compleat Angler by Izaak Walton.

Milldale is the start of Dovedale, allegedly the most attractive stretch of the river which attracts a million visitors every year and there were quite a few people milling around. I was getting very wet at this point and needed to consult my guidebook. There was a stone shelter but it was already occupied by a few people, a couple of whom looked rather like motor tourists. Being careful of social distancing I tried not to get close and ended up trying to keep my guidebook dry as I consulted it standing half in and half out of the shelter. None of the occupants made any effort to make a little room for me. Rather selfish I thought.

As you’d expect from the name, there used to be a mill here. It wasn’t used to grind corn, though, but minerals mined in the area. Looking at the quaint scenery these days it’s difficult to imaging that this was once an industrial area, as indeed was the case throughout the Peak District. Indeed, even today industry isn’t far away, with a number of large, modern limestone and millstone grit quaries that scar the lanscape in some other parts of the Peak District

Carrying on I passed the attractive stone houses

I knew I had a stretch of road to walk along. It was very quiet, though and passed through a very attractive valley

I’d walked over a mile before I realised I’d gone wrong. There were two roads out of Milldale and as I hadn’t consulted my guidebook properly as I’d tried to keep it dry down in Milldale, I’d taken the wrong one. Consulting the OS map app on my phone (my paper map would have got soaked) I could see the road I’d taken would involve an extra mile than the “proper” route but it seemed that the best option was to carry on as returning to the village to take the other road would have involved a longer distance overall. So I had and extra mile to wlak on tarmac in the rain all uphill -yuk.

Reaching Alstonefield, wet and hungry I was feeling a little demoralised as I still had about 5 miles before I’d be back in Hartington and a dry room in the hostel. I lost the will to take photos and, in any case, the small town wasn’t so photogenic. I stopped and huddled behind a wall to grab a bite to eat and then set back off down the road. Fortunately I didn’t have to go too far down the tarmac before I reached a stile and the path over the fields.

It might have been wet but the scenery lifted the heart and the rain started to ease off.

I descended down Narrowdale, by-passing narrowdale Hill. On a nicer, drier day, I’d probably have climbed up to the summit, but today I carried on descending down the dale.

After a while I joined another “lonning”

I reached the footbridge over the Dove at the point where I entered Wolfscote Dale in the morning.

I crossed over and followed the path heading upstream along Beresford Dale towards Hartington.

It hadn’t been raining for a little while but the wet long grass brushing against my trousers ensured they didn’t dry out as I walked.

The path cut across the fields away from the river, reaching Hartington near the car park I’d parked on the day before. And then the heavens opened again.

I called in the cheese shop to purchase some Stilton to take home, queing outside in the rain while I waited my turn – it’s a small shop and only 2 people allowed inside at any one time. Then I had a walk up the hill to the hostel as the sheets of rain descended. I was glad to get back into my room where I could discard my wet clothing and dry off.

I was glad to get back but despite the soaking, which wasn’t completely unexpected, I’d enjoyed the walk (well, most of it!). And tomorrow the forecast was more promising!

Hartington to Longnor and back – via High Wheeldon

It was the start of Wimbledon fortnight – time to escape the constant tennis on the telly!

I had a couple of free days at the beginning of last week and a search of the YHA website found me a couple of nights cheap accomodation in the grand setting of Hartington Hall in the Peak District so last Sunday I was up early and driving to the southern part of the Peak to set out on a walk.

The Peak District isn’t so far from here, but getting there is a bit of a pain. I can catch the train to the north eastern part of the National Park but for other areasmeans a stop starty drive along the A6 (made a little easier by the link road from the airport that cuts out the need to drive through Stockport) or via Knutsford and Macclesfield. It’s so much easier to get up to the Lakes. But I fancied a change and the more gentle landscape of the White Peak compared to the rugged fells would certainly provide that. The area I was visiting was not so familiar to me but I’d discovered something that meant it had a personal significance – my family history research had revealed a connection with a main branch of my family tree.

The long range weather forecast had initially promised sunny skies during my short break, but it changed the nearer I got to Sunday, and now I was expecting grey skies and rain. But hey, ho, what’s the bother with a little water falling from the sky!

Hartington is an attractive old village and, consequently something of a “honeypot” for both walkers and motor tourists – but it still maintains an element of authenticity – much more so than bakewell where I stopped briefly on my way home at the end of my break. It’s one of the places where it’s permitted to produce Stilton , although it’s some distance from the village in Leicestershire that the cheese is named after, and there’s a popular Cheese Shop in the centre of the village opposite the pond and green.

Although I arrived reasonably early in the morning, the “free” parking spaces were already taken, but there’s a large car park on the edge of the village so I parked up, coughed up, booted up and set off. I was basing my walk on a route in the second volume of the Verterbrate Publishing Day Walks in the Peak District. I was doing it in the reverse direction, went higer on access land for part of the walk and added a diversion up a steep hill which probably has a family connection from a long time ago.

Hartington Village green

A short walk on tarmac out of the village passing the old church

and after climbing over a stile I was out on open country climbing the hillside on the east side of the Upper Dove valley

The skies were grey and gloomy, but it was good to be out on the remote hillside

This was limestone country (hence the “White Peak”) with rounded hills cut through by deep dales with outcrops of rock and dry stone walls.

Keeping to the higher ground, which was open access land, I diverted from the route a little, by-passing the small hamlets of Pilsbury (and the remains of its Motte and Bailey castle) and Crowdicote – although I have in mind another route where I’d take them in if I return to the area, which I’m certainly tempted to do.

In the distance I could make out the limestone reefs of Chrome Hill and Parkhouse Hill (hard to see on the photo given the poor visibility) and also High Wheeldon

Looking back across the Dove Valley

and looking across the vally in the other direction

Keeping to the high ground above Crowdicote the summit of High Wheeldon was dead ahead

And now there were better views of Chrome Hill and Parkhouse Hill to the north.

These distinctive “dragon’s backs” are the remnants of coral reefs formed when the land that became England was submerged beneath a shallow tropical sea around 340 million years ago.

After a short, steep climb, I reached the summit of High Wheeldon

The land was donated to the National Trust in 1946 and ther’s a war memorial attached to the trig column

I stopped for a rest and a bite to eat and, despite the gloom, enjoyed taking in the views

Looking north towards the village of High Sterndale

I decided to take the path down the north side of the hill. It was a very steep descent and I was glad I had my walking poles with me to keep me steady. But it didn’t take too long to reach the foot of the hill, facing a dramatic limestone cliff

I carried on and now rejoined the guidebook route, taking a path across the fields towards Longnor.

Looking back across the fields to High Wheeldon

Chrome hill and Parkhouse Hills to the north

Reaching Longnor I’d left Derbyshire and was now in Staffordshire

Longnor church

Longnor is another old village of old stone buildings with alleyways and passages leading to the old market square

The car park in the village centre was full

and although there were not too many people around the little cafe on the square was busy and there was no room for a lone walker.

After a short rest on a bench on the square I carried on, passing through the village

and then taking a path past a farm and through the fields to join the Manifold Way

I was now following the course of the River Manifold in a valley separated from the Upper Dove Valley by a ridge of hills. The countryside was “pastoral” and the route passed through flat fields, running parrallel to the river, which made for easy walking.

The landscape becam more rugged to the south

By the small settlement of Brund the route left the Manifold way, following paths through fields back to Hartington via the hamlet of Sheen.

Brund

Back in Hartington

Old farm buildings in Hartington

For a short while the cloud cleared above the village and I topped for a brew, sitting outside the village Post office which had a shop and cafe

Then it was time to return to the car, change out of my boots and drive up to the hostel to book in

A rather grand Youth Hostel

The hostel was in Hartington Hall, which dates back to the 17th Century and is a Grade II listed building. It’s been owned by the YHA since1948.

Win, Lose and the Mother Hill

Last Saturday I managed to get out for a walk, this time in the Peak District. I took the train into Manchester, changing to catch the train to Hope at Piccadilly. The journey time was an hour and a half, comparable to the time it would have taken to drive there and without the bother of having to find a parking space. I was risking the unreliability of Northern Rail, but all worked out on the day.

The Peak District hills are more modest than those in the Lake District, and the landscape isn’t as dramatic, but has its own beauty and attractions. The area is part of the Dark Peak where Millstone Grit covers the underlying limestone. North of Edale lie bleak, largely deserted, moorland covered with peat bogs. But to the south of the Vale of Edale, the landscape is a little more forgiving and is dominated by the “Great Ridge” running from Mam Tor to Lose Hill. For this walk I’d decided to climb up Win Hill, just to the east of Hope. I’d never been up there before, although I’d walked the “Great Ridge” to the west of the village a few times, most recently back in September, with my friend Pam, from Tasmania. I reckoned it would take me about an hour to reach the summit and then I had a couple of options in mind for the rest of the day, making a decision based on the conditions I’d encounter.

Disembarking from the train, there’s a path through the fields directly from the end of the station platform towards the small hamlet of Aston

From Aston I took the lane up towards the hill

and then up the path over the open moor

There’s the summit – Win Hill Pike – up ahead.

It was windy up on the summit, but there were good views all around

Looking down to Ladybower reservoir

Lose Hill and the bulk of Kinder Scout over the Vale of Edale

I found a sheltered spot out of the wind where I had a bite to eat and some hot coffee from my flask. Then I had a decision to make. I would have liked to carry on along the ridge and then walk over Kinder and descend to Edale. But given the conditions – a strong wind and muddy underfoot (and I reckoned it would be even worse on the higher hill, well known for its peat bogs) I decided to make my way down to Hope and then climb up Lose Hill and then walk along the “Great Ridge”. So I took the muddy path north along the ridge, heading towards Hope Cross

before descending down to Fulwood Stile Farm and Townhead Bridge. From there I took the path up towards Lose Hill.

I reached the summit of Lose Hill, which was busy with other walkers, many having made their way along the ridge from Mam Tor. I stopped to take in the view but there was a strong, cold wind blowing across from the north, so not a good spot to rest and grab a bite to eat.

I snapped a panorama across to the great mass of Kinder Scout.

and then took the path along the ridge towards Mam Tor.

Looking back over the valley to Win Hill

Looking towards Black Tor and Mam Tor

The view back towards Lose Hill

Looking back as I descended the steep path down Black Tor

I reached the “cross roads” at Hollins Cross. There’s MamTor ahead, silhouetted by the low sun

The wind seemed to get stronger as I climbed up to the top of Mam Tor, but it didn’t take too long to reach the summit. It was busy up there, but I managed to snap a photo which makes it look like I was up there on my own. I wasn’t though!

I decided I’d retraced my steps down to Hollins Cross and then descend from there into Castleton. There were plenty of walkers making their way up and down the path

From Hollins Cross, I set off down the hill towards Castleton

Reaching the valley floor, I looked back towards Mam Tor

and across to Lose Hill

I soon reached Castleton.

It’s something of a “honeypot” so was busy with walkers and day trippers. I stopped for a short while to browse in some of the shops purveying “Blue John” jewellery and to buy a bottle of Coke to slake my thirst. Then I set out to take the path back to Hope to catch the train back to Manchester. I could have walked along the road, but there’s a much pleasanter route through the fields. That seemed like the preferable option.

It’s a low lying path, running parallel to the river. But after all the rain we’d been having the fields were drenched and for most of the way the path was so muddy it felt like I was walking through the trenches on the Somme (I’d been to see the film 1917 a few days before and the conditions brought that to mind!)

I was glad I was wearing my gaiters. They kept the bottom of my trousers clean but my boots needed a deep clean the next day!

The muddy conditions meant that it took longer to get across to Hope than I’d expected and the train station is a good kilometre out of the village. It looked like I’d miss my train and have to wait an hour for the next one. But checking the National Rail app on my phone I could see that the train was running 10 minutes late, so I had enough time to get to the station with a couple of minutes to spare! For once I was grateful for Northern Rail’s poor punctuality. The train was busy but I got a seat. It filled up at Edale, the next stop, and it was standing room only until Manchester.

I had a tight connection at Piccadily and thought I’d miss it and have to wait another half hour for the next train. Arriving at the station I legged it across to Platform 12 to find the express to Windermere via Wigan was standing at the platform so I jumped on. 50 minutes later I was back home.

I’d trudged through mud and had been battered by the wind, but I’d enjoyed the walk. I’ve a few more routes in mind around there so hopefully I’ll get back across to the Dark Peak before too long.

A walk along the ridge

Last Sunday I’d arranged to go out for a walk with my friend Pam from Tasmania, who was over on one of her regular trips exploring Europe. A typical Aussie she loves to travel and comes over every couple of years. This time she’d been to Helsinki and after a stop over in England to visit some friends she was off to Iceland and then to Poland. Jealous? What do you think!

When she’s over we try to meet up to get out for a walk. This year we’d planned to go up to the Dales, but after a cracking few days of good weather a front of heavy rain was forecast to gradually descend from Scotland. Checking the Met Office weather app, I reckoned the Peak District was likely to be our best bet to avoid the worst of the weather so that’s where we went. The new bypass from the airport to the A6 meant we were able to avoid driving through Stockport and it took about an hour and 15 minutes to get over to Castleton, traffic being light on a Sunday morning.

Despite the grey weather with mist over the hills when we arrived, the small honeypot town was busy, but we managed to find a parking space. We decided on a brew before setting out.

Castleton is a very pleasant village of stone cottages, overlooked by the remains of a Norman castle, the main purpose of which would have been to dominate and intimidate the local population and to act as an administrative centre, controlling revenues from mining and hunting rights in the Peak Forest.

The plan was to walk the ridge that stands between and overlooks the Hope and Edale valleys, starting at Lose Hill and making our way south west over Back Tor and Hollins Cross on to Mam Tor. The mist had lifted when we set out and their was a clear view of Lose Hill as we made our way along the path out of the village.

As the ridge is easily accessible from Manchester and Sheffield, it’s always busy with walkers and, despite the grey skies, today was no different. We met quite a few walkers including a group of teenagers loaded down with heavy packs, on their Duke of Edinburgh Award expedition.

Here’s Pam on her way up Lose Hill.

To the east of Lose Hill stands Win Hill. So what’s the reason for their names? Turning to the font of all knowledge (i.e. Wikipedia!)

In relatively recent times, the two hills’ names have prompted a fanciful tale concerning the outcome of an imagined 7th-century battle between the forces of Edwin of Northumbria and Cynegils of Wessex.^[3] Edwin’s forces occupied Win Hill, while Cynegils’ men camped on Lose Hill. As the battle progressed, Cynegils’ forces advanced up Win Hill, and Edwin’s retreated behind a temporary wall they had built near the summit. They pushed the boulders of the wall downhill, crushing the Wessex soldiers and gaining victory in the battle. However, there is no historical basis for the tale, and no evidence of any battle ever being fought here.

Wkipedia

Well, it’s a good story anyway.

I’d done this walk twice, the last time way back in 2011 so another visit was long overdue. I seem to remember huffing an puffing a bit as I made my way up the slope but this time I seemed to stride up without any problem. I guess that after all the walking I’ve been doing lately I’m a lot fitter, and Lose hill is a more modest climb than some of the hills I’ve been up in the past few months.

Looking back across the Hope valley as we climbed.

We soon reached the summit and stopped for the obligatory snaps. We could see cloud and rain coming in from the north over Kinder Scout, but the views weren’t too bad.

It was relatively easy going from now on along the ridge. There was a short steep descent from Back Tor and then a gradual climb up to the summit of Mam Tor, but nothing too taxing.

This is the view down to Edale from Back Tor. Kinder Scout was hidden by the rain coming in from the north.

It caught us shortly afterwards, but it was light drizzle and didn’t last very long, so no problems.

This is the view looking back to Lose Hill with Win Hill just about visible through the murk in the distance, over to the right

and looking further along the ridge towards Mam Tor.

We descended down the path. This is the view looking back towards Back Tor

Mam Tor ahead.

Mam Tor means “mother mountain” and humans have lived around here for thousands of years. It’s the site of a prehistoric hill fort, and remnants of the fortifications – ditches and ramparts – are clearly visible running around the summit. 

Despite the weather the summit was busy. It’s a relatively short climb up from Castleton – even shorter for those parking up on the road above Winnats pass or the National Trust car park.

We descended down to the road and then started to make our way back to Catleton via the old ruined road. Mam Tor is also known as the Shivering Mountain due to it’s unstable nature which has resulted in a number of slow moving landslips caused by its geology – unstable lower layers of shale overlain by sandstone.

Reaching the bottom of the hill we could see the large 4,000 year old slow moving landslip on it’s south eastern side.

The A625 Manchester to Sheffield road in 1819 lies in the landslip zone and had to be continually repaired until it was permanently closed to traffic in 1979 and the A625 diverted down Winnats Pass.

We followed the course of the old road and could clearly see the damage that’s been caused.

We left the old road and cut across the fields towards Castleton. The final field we had to cross was populated by a sizeable herd of cows with their calves, the majority of the latter congregating right on the path. We were a little wary as cows are very protective of their calves and far from being harmless, there’s been a number of people killed by them in recent years. The HSE advise farmers not to keep cows with their calves in fields crossed by public footpaths. Well, our Derbyshire farmer clearly was ignoring this advice.

We crossed the field very cautiously and kept away from the calves as much as possible and made it through without harm.

After a good walk it was time to grab a bite to eat so we made our way to one of the pubs in the village – there’s several .

After a hearty meal it was time to head back to the car and set back home. We’d had a good walk and by careful planning had largely managed to avoid the rain. Pam dropped me back home and after calling in for a brew set off back to Maghull near Liverpool where she was staying with another friend. A few days later she was flying over to Iceland and I was back in work 😦

Monsal Dale

The last day of our short break in the Peak District, we’d planned to go out for a walk. I had a few routes in mind but decided to “suck it and see” depending on the conditions. When we woke up it was raining, but the forecast was that it would clear before the afternoon so we would need to restrict ourselves to a shorter walk as I was working the next day and didn’t want to leave it too long before we set off for home. So after picking up some bacon and a few other items at the Chatsworth shop, we drove over to Monsal Head, a famous Peak District beauty spot.

We parked up by the Monsal Head Hotel – the large car park soon fills up at the weekend but there was plenty of room on a Monday morning. It’s in an elevated position looking over the Wye Valley at a spot where the Wye, flowing eastwards, encounters a band of harder rock and is forced to make a sharp turn southwards, carving its way through a of limestone ridge.  Until the 1960’s a railway line from Derby to Manchester ran westwards along the valley over the Headstone viaduct and through a series of tunnels. Today the railway route has been turned into a walking and cycling trail – the Monsal Trail. From the viewpoint we looked down over the viaduct and the valley.

Despite being a somewhat grey day, overcast with middling visibility, it was still a stunning view.

We walked along the trail some 26 years ago carrying my daughter, who was then a baby less than a year old, in a baby carrier strapped to my back. I remember her hitting me on the head to try to make move quicker! Since then the trail has been improved and the tunnels opened up so that you can walk or ride through them during the daylight hours.

Without a definite plan in mind, we decided to follow the trail westwards for a few miles and see where we ended up, so we took the path down from the viewpoint by the hotel down to the viaduct. This was the view looking north west along Monsal Dale

and south west, downstream.

We followed the former railway track, taking care to avoid being run over by bikes! It was reasonably busy despite being a Monday morning in early Autumn.

Views down into the valley itself were rather intermittent as the track was lined by trees that blocked the view for much of its length. Eventually the rather attractive Georgian buildings of Cressbrook Mill came into view.

Despite being a peaceful valley today, at one time, during and after the Industrial Revolution, Monsal Dale was a hive of activity with the river powering cotton mills at Upperdale, Cressbrook and Litton and with lime kilns further west in Chee Dale.

The first mill at Cressbrook was built for Sir Richard Arkwright in 1779 but this burnt down in 1785 and was rebuilt by his son in 1787. The large Georgian building visible from the trail is an extension built in 1814.

Just after the viewpoint we entered our first tunnel.

Emerging at the other side there was a view down to very pretty part of the valley known as Water-cum-Jolly

Soon we were back inside another tunnel, emerging and looking down over Litton Mill. We climbed up the path to the top of the tunnel to get a better view

Built in 1782 Litton Mill became notorious for the poor treatment of the workers and apprentices – and that’s during a period when workers didn’t have an easy life, to say the least!

At that point we decided to retrace our steps, walking back through the tunnels before descending down into the valley at the deserted train station at Upperdale.

We crossed the river over to the small settlement. The distinctive blue/green paint telling us that the former famm and mill worker houses were now owned by the Chatsworth Estate. The larger house was a Band B while the other buildings had been converted to rental properties. Very attractive they looked too.

We followed the road for a short distance and then took a path that took us back over the river

and then under the viaduct and along the river south west from Monsal Head

Looking back towards the viaduct

We carried on walking down the valley beside the river

We didn’t follow the river all the way to the A6 but a short distance after the weir crossed over a bridge to the other side of the river and then followed the path that rose steeply up through  he wooded flank of the valley,

eventually emerging back at Monsal Head

We stopped a short while to admire the view and then it was time for a brew in the courtyard outside the pub next to the Hotel.

A walk along the Edges

The last day of our short break in the Peak District we decided to go for a walk along the gritstone edges to the east of Baslow. We drove a few miles up to Curbar gap and parked up on the National Trust car park. It isn’t very large, so we were fortunate to find a space.

The plan was to walk along White Edge and then return along Froggat Edge and Curbar Edge. We ended up extending the walk by a few miles through the Longshaw Estate.

Leaving the car park we took the path up to White Edge.

After a short climb we were on top of the ridge where views opened up over desolate moorland – a lonely rugged landscape even though it’s only a few miles to Sheffield.

The path was a bit boggy in places.

Out on the wild and windy moor!

Looking north over Froggat Edge we could see the Hope Valley ridge and Kinder Scout in the distance

White Edge is an undulating ridge with a few gentle ups and downs, but relatively easy walking. On one of the “summits” we spotted this stone. Looking closely we could see that there were words carved into it. Being weathered, it was a little difficult to read at first but we soon worked out that it was a poem.

There was a web address carved on the stone too and as the reception on my phone was quite good I had a quick look to find out more. It transpired that this is one of a series of “companion stones”

“Companion stones are a set of twelve matching stones. Designed by local poets and artists and created by sculptors and masons of the Peak, are a similar stature, volume and material as their compeers. Like the guide stoops, each bears an inscription pointing, not to market towns, but towards the future. In doing so, they draw attention to the moors, an indicator of the trick environmental terrain we have yet to navigate” http://www.companionstones.org.uk/

The project was inspired by the Guide Stoops which were erected in the early 18th century to help travellers across treacherous moors, each stoop providing directions to the nearest market town.  This stone had a poem by Mark Goodwin and was designed by Jo Dacombe

(Poem by Mark Goodwin)

We carried on along the ridge, deciding to carry on towards Longshaw rather than cutting down to the Grouse Inn. We crossed the main road and set out along the path towards Longshaw Lodge

The Longshaw Estate was once the Duke of Rutland’s shooting estate but was bought by the people of Sheffield in 1928, being passed on to the National Trust in1931. Today it’s a pleasant Country Park which seems to be well used by people from Sheffield and the vicinity as well as visitors like ourselves.

We passed below a gritstone outcrop but couldn’t resist climbing up for the view. A rainbow could be seen to the north east.

After a while the path went through some woodland

before we arrived at Longshaw Lodge where there was a busy little café, so we stopped for a brew.

The lodge was built about 1827 to provide a retreat for the Duke of Rutland’s shooting parties. I believe that it has now been converted into flats.

It was a clear day and there were good views towards  Higger Tor

and Stannage Edge, the other side of Hathersage.

Setting out again we walked through woodland and moorland back towards Froggat Edge. We spotted another Companion Stone, this one designed by Kate Genever

with a poem by Ann Atkinson.

Looking back

we left the Estate and then walked a short distance along the road to the Grouse Inn. It looked quite busy and we didn’t need any refreshments so carried on cutting across the fields and through the NT carpark

crossing the road and joining the path that climbed up to Froggat Edge, initially passing through pleasant woodland

Looking back

There’s a small ancient stone circle just off the footpath. It’s not exactly Stonehenge, but interesting none the less.

 

Reaching the top of the ridge there were good views over the steep gritstone cliffs on the north side of the Edge

Along with Curbar Edge tot he south, it’s a favourite spot for climbers.

We carried along the ridge heading towards Curbar Edge

Looking east we had a good view of White Edge that we’d walked along a few hours earlier

We carried on along the ridge

and descended down back to the car park. There was a rather upmarket mobile snack bar which was tempting,

but we had decided to call in at the Chatsworth Farm Shop before heading home and it was getting close to closing time, so changed out of our boots and set off.

It had been a good walk. A lot easier than some we have done lately, but interesting nevertheless, with great views and a little culture too!

Beyond Limits 2016

This was the third year we’d visited Chatsworth to see the annual Beyond Limits exhibition of modern sculpture organised by Sotheby’s. Our visit was a little later in the year but we were lucky with the weather – a fine sunny autumn day late in October.

On arrival we were disappointed to be told that two of the works weren’t on display. This included, Lilas,  the large structure by Zaha Hadid. This featured in muchof the publicity for the exhibition and is also on the cover of the catalogue. We discovered it had been removed as the site was to be used for the Chatsworth bonfire. Rather inappropriate and bad planning we thought. Black mark to Chatsworth.

The other missing work was Time and Again by David Munro, 108 engraved stainless steel lily pads floating on the canal pond, which, the exhibition catalogue tells us

was conceived specifically for the renowned Canal Pond at Chatsworth House

Looking at the photograph in the catalogue and the Sotheby’s website of works from the exhibition, the work looks impressive and I’d I’ve liked to have seen it in-situ. We couldn’t find out why this had been removed – perhaps they’d sunk!. Whatever the reason, another black mark.

So what was on show?

Red Mountain Head by Emily Young

 

Folium by Charles Hadcock who I’d first encountered when he had a small exhibition of works displayed at the Mill on the Pier in Wigan a few years ago. I rather liked this work

designed with mathematical precision, the interlocking arms of the two halves form a perfect sphere, whilst the spirals at the centre of each half recall the coiled circles of ammonites.

L’Abbraccio di Ettore a Andromaca (The embrace of Hector and Andromache) by Giorgio de Chirico – a modern take on Classical sculpture

Donna Sdraiata by Fernando Botero

Black Beast. This was instantly recognisable as a work by Lynne Chadwick

Fruit Cake by Joana Vasconcelos

The monumental form of a cupcake is outlined via a steel frame and built up from plastic moulds typically used by children when playing with sand. The moulds are vivid in colour and shaped like various fruits and pretzels.

Wandering Mountain by Wendell Castle (“the father of the art furniture movement.”) –  a trio of sculptures, seat like sculptures sited by the ornamental pond.

Energy 2 by Alexander Macdonald-Buchanan rather reminded me of a giant, fluorescent blue, barley sugar or liquorice twist.

 

I wasn’t quite sure what to make of this giant cucumber

Der Gurk by Erwin Wurm

Habitacion vegetal XV (Double Paaje) (Plant Room XV (Double Passage)) by Cristina Iglesias

the exterior with its stainless steel finish literally reflects its immediate surroundings; however, this appearance is deliberately deceiving as the mirror distorts the reflections and presents a contorted view of the surrounding environment. In contrast to this, the interior chamber presents what appears to be a more natural reality, revealing a myriad of delicately formed branches and leaves that recreate the living world reflected in the outer walls.

Taichi Arch by Ju Ming’s

Hexad III, another work by Charles Hadcock. I didn’t like this as much as his Folium sculpture

La Montagne by Aristide Maillol. is unusual in that it is cast from lead rather than the more usual bronze. It’s appearance changed with the light looking particulrly effective when the sun was shining.

I was sure I’d seen this sculpture before. Checking the information in the exhibition leaflet I found that there are casts in various locations around the world including the Jardin des Tuileries in Paris. I reckon that’s where I’ve seen it.

Tear by Richard Hudson.

Made from highly polished stainless steel it reflected it’’s surroundings, the curved surface distorting the landscape.

Chaos Meteoro by Jedd Novatt was sited high up in the gardens, high up on the slope overlooking the maze. It rather reminded me of a distorted climbing frame from a children’s playground.

So, another interesting exhibition even if two of the major exhibits had been removed. Like last year, however, it didn’t quite match the first one of the series that we’d seen a couple of years ago.

Eyam Cross

The plaque sitting besides this old stone cross in Eyam churchyard states that it is Celtic. That’s unlikely to be true. It’s an old preaching cross from the 8th/9th century and is really Anglo-Saxon. Before the Norman invasion Anglo-Saxon art and decorative designs were similar to what these days we consider to be “Celtic” style.

It’s an impressive example which is almost complete – although the top of the shaft is missing.

This website provides a good description of it’s decoration

It has some very rich decoration on the west face with fabulous interlacing scroll-work running up the shaft that is typically Mercian in origins. On the west-face, especially the upper section, there are human figures probably St Mary the Virgin with the baby Jesus, angels and Christ in glory, each in their own sections or panels. The cross is grade 1 listed.