Friday, 17 May 2013


PC is off sailing the seven seas with her husband, so for now it is just me and my camera.

Motivation has been hard to come by since my last outing. Daughter is in the throes of her AS level exams - cue high stress and panic - and Mother is in hospital which means endless visits and concerns. Added to these is that my walking partner isn't here to keep me company, and sane, and the weather has been on the wrong side of awful. Still, I decided last night that I had to get out, albeit for only a short walk (time constraints due to above mentioned exams and hospital visits!)

So here I am, very early (for me) parking my car beside the Curbar road beneath Curbar Edge. And for a change the sun is out despite the heavy downpour last night.

It doesn't take me long to get ready then I'm off up the road then through the gate leading onto Baslow Edge. The track is a wide, well used bridleway more like the paths in Country Parks, but within a few yards I turn right onto a narrower, but still well used, path. This leads to a viewpoint complete with map for those who don't know the area too well. And it is a brilliant view from here, reaching well over 180 degrees. The sun is out, there isn't another person in sight, and I feel my tension slip away. I just wish PC was here to share it.

I continue onwards, keeping to the edge rather than returning to the broad track, and I am constantly rewarded by excellent views down to Curbar, behind to Curbar and Froggatt Edges, and beyond. There are boulders and rocks as well as slight dips up and down.

After cresting a slight rise and starting to drop again I see, for the first time and to my horror, a small herd of Highland Cattle. I stare at them warily for a few moments before striding purposefully past them. PC would be proud although, to be honest, I don't think the cattle even notice me.

They were all in possession of extremely impressive horns, though.

Emboldened by my bravery I go up the next rise - it could hardly be called scrambling or climbing despite there being a number of boulders - and pause again to enjoy the views. This walk is turning into more of a stroll with plenty of stops as I don't want it to be over too quickly.

I watch a bird on a stone, possibly a thrush although I am too far away to be certain, with a beak-full of worms for its young then I decide to take out the secret flask. It's too early for a drink, but I need to take the photo for PC!

As I pause for a while I can hear curlews on the moor, their call very distinctive and carrying. It's a pity I've never been able to see one in Derbyshire.

Here and there the ground is a little wet and muddy, but it does drain quite well so close to the edge. That's lucky since the rain of the last few days could have made walking quite unpleasant. At least the sun is still shining, and when the soft breeze drops it is almost warm. I'm not wearing a jacket - a first for this year!

The sun is casting interesting shadows on the boulders that litter the edge, and knowing PCs fondness for boulders I take a photo for her.

There is also a single boulder, perched seemingly very precariously, on the edge of the Edge. Poised on its point it appears on the verge of toppling, but in fact it is very firmly secured!
A little way further on and I have a good view of the Eagle Stone, a popular place for a little easy climbing, and in the past youths from Baslow who wanted to prove their fitness for marriage had to climb the Eagle Stone!
I'm almost at the end of the Edge now and the narrow path I'm following drops down toward Wellington's Monument. There is a bench beneath it should I need a rest (I don't) and for the first time ever there are no other walkers here. I take the opportunity to snap a picture then wait a while as a horse rider approaches then passes. We exchange a 'Good Morning', and she will be the only person I speak to on the whole walk. I do miss PC!

I continue along the long track towards the road. There is woodland to the right, known as Jack Flat, and a drystone wall to the left. And I hear my first cuckoo of the year! Worryingly, there is evidence of cattle too!
Nearing the end of the track can see another herd of highland cattle, and some of these have young. For now they are far enough away, and I pause to study one of the many Companion Stones (see ) we have found on our walks. This one, on Eaglestone Flat, seems very appropriate for PC - being sail shaped!
 Now I'm approaching the gate onto the road and have to admit to being very apprehensive. One of the cows has moved onto the track and two others are approaching. I decide I have to go for it; after all, Highland cattle are supposed to be very placid, and I make it past them with a huge sigh of relief.
 From now on it's the long haul up the road. I decide not to cross over and take the track across the moor given how wet the ground is and how soggy that part of the moor is. I've kept dry so far and want to keep it that way. I am rewarded, though, by the sight of Sweet Cicely growing under one of the drystone walls, and a wonderfully bright yellow clump of celandines.
The road is quite busy, and being fairly straight some of the cars and vans travel far too fast. On my own it isn't too bad, but I'm glad Mollie isn't here as she really doesn't like traffic.
I push the pace on the road, and glancing up I can see that there are some darker clouds in the sky. It doesn't seem likely to rain, not yet anyway, but I wouldn't be surprised if it didn't rain later.
Cresting the ridge I see that there are a lot of cars in the car park, many of the walkers emerging to walk along Curbar or Froggatt Edges. It's certainly a good day for it.
Down the road now and I'm soon back at the car. Looking up at the edge the dark clouds are beginning to look more ominous.
It's been a fairly short walk, and not at all strenuous. However, the absence of coffee and buns has taken its toll and since I still have plenty of time to spare before collecting daughter from her morning revision session I drive down through Curbar village in search of refreshment.
I stop at the Derbyshire Craft Centre and spend a little while browsing in the shop intending to have a quiet coffee when I've finished. However, a hoard (there really is no other description) of walkers - all ladies of a certain age - descend on the shop like a gaggle of angry geese, and making twice as much noise. They head straight into the cafe, their strident tones making me (and others) decide to go elsewhere.
I finally end up in The Cafe on the Green in Baslow. It's busy, but not noisy, and I enjoy a coffee with a piece of Lemon Bakewell. A good way to end the day!

Saturday, 4 May 2013


PC is off sailing the seven seas with her husband, so for now it's just me and my camera.

Out again, but not on my own this week as Husband has a day off work and is joining me. We don't get out walking anything like as much as we would wish so he's jumped at the opportunity. At least the weather looks to stay fine and we even have some sunshine.

We park the car in the small parking area at the side of the River Wye at Upperdale. We're the only ones here as we're quite early. We pull on our boots then hoist our rucksacks on to our backs (why is mine heavier?) in near silence - no catching up to do and we ran out of sparkling conversation on the journey! Such is married life.

This first part of the walk is on the road, heading towards the imposing facade of Cressbrook Mill, but before we reach it we spot a duck on the river looking extremely exotic in temperate Derbyshire.

This proves to be a talking point as we can't quite decide what it is. (Turns out it is a male Mandarin Duck.) Once the duck has refused to stop to have its photograph taken we move on, and in a nearby field we see some interesting sheep. These, fortunately, are more obliging. My first thought is that they are Hebridean sheep. Why? No idea, but on checking various websites on returning home I'm pretty confident - although if I am wrong please feel free to let me know as I'm no livestock expert.

Ahead is the old mill, now converted into smart living accommodation, and it is the first time Husband has seen it in many years. I tend to forget how infrequently he gets out into the walking heart of Derbyshire despite travelling all over the country for his job.

We take the lane to the right of the mill and begin the steady ascent. We pass a lady with a very old dog, but other than that we see no one else. The birdsong is clear and we can enjoy the fresh green leaves bursting into bud. On the banks at either side of the road there are wood anemones in bloom, sprinklings of white like mini snowdrifts. As we reach the top of our climb and take the footpath towards the Dale we encounter more flowers growing beneath the straight trunks of thin woodland with the sun lighting the path ahead, a typical English spring scene.

It's a straight and fairly level path to a narrow gate and I'm relieved that there are no cows here (there had been in the past when I'd been with PC). However, at the other side of the gate the ground is churned up, a sure sign that cattle are, or have been, in the vicinity. I keep a wary eye open but as we walk into a more open field I can breathe a sigh of relief. No cows. But there is a lovely view over the trees to the distant Cressbrook Dale.

In the woods at the side, though, there is the most glorious carpet of anemones turning the whole woodland floor white.

It's a fairly steep descent here, dreadful when it's slippery, but no problem today. At the bottom is a narrow gated bridge over the dried up stream bed. It's hard to remember that on our last visit the bridge was close to being submerged.
The walk along the path in this wooded part of Cressbrook Dale is always very lovely. Birds are very active (we even hear an owl - it must have trouble sleeping) and the ground is carpeted with flowers, mainly anemones but there are bright yellow celandines too. We are following the dried riverbed which looks strangely sinister and primeval.
We continue through the woods until they give way to the wider, open spaces of the limestone dale. Immediately the search is on for the orchids which thrive here, but sadly it seems we are too early - or the weather has been too unkind - because they aren't flowering yet. I do find one eventually and
once I've seen one it is easy to spot dozens, but as yet they are just clusters of leaves with promising buds.
The Dale widens out with the sometimes-stream completely dry missing from the bottom. Ahead is a new bridge, replacing the stepping stones over the non-extent water and leading up Tansley Dale. Here we pause for a nip from the secret flask (yes, Husband knows all about it) and I take a scenic photo of said flask on top of the bridge with the Dale in the background, just for PC.
We continue up the Dale and into the breeze. It isn't too bad, but it is noticeable. The Dale dog-legs and soon we are approaching Peter's Stone, a monumental limestone dome where there was once a gibbet (see an earlier post). We walk up towards the stone then climb to the prominent outcrop beneath it where we can sit and enjoy the wide ranging view up the dale and down past Wardlow Mires towards Foolow.
After a while we take the path towards Wardlow Mires until we are in the Dale bottom again then turn back. From here there are splendid views of Peter's Stone, though it is a wonder that a gibbet could have been erected here.
We head off back down the Dale and find a suitable hollow of ground in which to sit for lunch and shelter from the ever present wind. The coffee is very good, and I initiate Husband into the ritual of the buns. Today we have Toffee Pecan Danish Swirls - very sticky but very satisfying.
It is tempting to lay back and snooze. Out of the wind it is quite mild but the sun has gone in and the clouds seem to be gathering, so we gather our gear and retreat.
We watch some Pied Wagtails bobbing about in the short grass and on the drystone walls before going through the gate into wooded area. Here there is a steep sided clearing with cowslips which we hadn't noticed on our outward walk. I pause to take a picture before we continue.

When we eventually cross the bridge over the dry stream we turn left and follow the course of the stream toward Ravensdale Cottages. Just before the cottages the stream reappears from underground and we can see it bubbling up from beneath some rocks, but beyond the cottages it has disappeared again!
Behind the cottages are the cliffs of Ravensdale and there is a notice saying that climbing is not allowed this year as ravens have actually nested on the crags for the first time in many years. Despite using our binoculars we couldn't see them, but it is excellent news, and we hope that climbers don't try to disturb the birds.
From here it is a short walk up the long driveway to rejoin the road, and then we are on the downhill stretch to Upperdale and the car. It has been an excellent walk, Husband has thoroughly enjoyed it and so have I - although there has been less conversation than usual! Next time I'll be out on my own again, though.