STEADY STROLL FROM BASLOW TO CALVER

It's a grim morning; frosty, murky and cold. And we've both managed to be late. Quite an achievement even for us.

When we eventually manage to haul ourselves to the main Baslow car park it is very quiet. Clearly the prospect of a freezing cold walk has dimmed the enthusiasm of all but the hardiest of souls. First of all we consult the map as we're both a bit vague as to our planned route. With memories refreshed we decide that we'd be better parking nearer Bubnell since Mollie hates roads and starting from the centre of the village will mean having a fair walk on the main road. So, no sooner have we arrived than we're back in the cars again.

We drive down to West End where we turn onto the Bubnell road where we find somewhere to park next to the curb without obstructing any houses or the bus stop. Probably on a busy day this wouldn't be possible, or even fair on the locals, but there aren't many cars about today.

As soon as we're ready we head up the road for a few paces before stopping to look at the bridge. Baslow Bridge is a Grade 1 listed building (and a scheduled monument) dating mostly from the early 17th century (1608 is inscribed on one wall) and is easily missed by traffic thundering through Baslow on the A623.

We spot the footpath we need directly across the road from the bridge, and it's a good job we have a decent map as the path is narrow and the sign obscured by rampant ivy. We walk up the path and into a large field - the first of many - and as we climb gently uphill we keep pausing to admire the views; the village in the foreground, Baslow and Curbar Edges behind. To the north we can see the distinctive 'E R' letters where plants with contrasting foliage have been grown in huge rectangles. It seems these were planted in or around 2002, probably to commemorate the Queen's s golden jubilee.

The path is pretty direct and easy to follow even though it isn't particularly distinct on the ground, but it does have a couple of leg-stretching stone stiles and a very narrow crush.

Eventually the path veers gently to the left leading us down to Wheatlands Lane which is narrow and, in parts, icy. It dips and rises a bit and we're careful to avoid the slippy bits, and we get well out of the way when the odd car comes past.

As we pass Toost Wood we turn right over another stile next to a gate, then we cross a small rough field before going through a gate into a long, narrow wood. This is Bank Wood (South) and at last Mollie can go off the lead for a run and to terrorise some sticks.

There are some lovely views from here across to the Edges, although the village is lost in the dip. It feels colder in the wood, even though we are sheltered from the wind. At the far end of the wood we can see a clearing - and a bench. Lunch beckons!

As we enter the clearing we can see the huge 'cliffs'  of a quarry - Back Dale Mine - not a particularly inspiring view but at least the bench faces away from it so we can enjoy views over farmland and what appears to be some very degraded ridge and furrow ploughing.

We have a nip from the secret flask first to warm us up, then a coffee to help a little more. Then we eat the sandwiches - never terribly inspiring - followed by double chocolate chip muffins (Co-op brand). These are seriously chocolaty, very rich with a good number of chocolate chunks on top for good measure. The cold has made them very hard, which I like, although PC would prefer to have them warmed up in the microwave! All we 'll need then is the cream (brandy cream for preference) and she'll be more than satisfied.

We finish off with more coffee then make haste to set off again. It really is too cold to hang around.

We leave the clearing and enter the northern part of Bank Wood, and again Mollie can run. Fortunately we have now lost sight of the quarry. Mollie chooses a branch of extreme proportions then tries to squeeze past us with it. Not a good idea!

The path turns right and goes through a gate in the wall then drops down to Bramley Lane, a minor road. Here we dog-leg slightly as we cross over to enter Bramley Wood, another linear wood but with a lighter, airier feel. As we near the end of the wood we come to a low, dark tunnel in the rhododendrons where the path cuts through them - it's actually rather nice and quite magical. We bet children must love it.

Out at the other side and PC pauses to photograph frost covered bracken; it is more exposed here and more like moorland than woodland, although it is only a few paces before we're back into woods again.

We have a choice of right (back over the fields to Bramley Farm and Baslow) or left towards Calver. We choose the left hand path and are very quickly on a slippery, downward slope. The frost hasn't helped a great deal and we have to pick our way down with great care, but we manage it in one piece.

It's stiles and fields again now, and as we dip down and climb up again heading towards the village our rambling conversation has turned to an 'O' level photography project we undertook whilst studying for our 'A' levels (many, many years ago) when we visited what was then Sheffield Polytechnic. We had to produce a couple of short films, and after we've reminded ourselves how awful our attempts were we sincerely hope that our endeavours were swiftly erased. Thank goodness there was no internet back then.

By now we're almost in the village and despite the multitude of paths we carry straight on to a dark and winding path with, thankfully, markers at every junction. We successfully negotiate all the twists and turns, continuing downhill all the time, then squeeze through another crush-stile into a very waterlogged field. As we do so the first tiny flakes of snow begin to fall. It isn't much, thank goodness, and it soon stops as we cross the iced-over boggy field, thankful for once for the sub-zero temperatures that have kept us free of the quagmire.

The path leads us down some stone steps and along a little lane to one of the larger roads through the village. This is another pretty village that, so far, has managed to stay off our radar.

We find a footpath to our right and follow it, hoping to reach the River Derwent, but we are thwarted when we come to the next field which has cows in it. And they are milling around in the gateway as the farmer tries to persuade them to do whatever it is he wants them to do. Given my aversion to all things bovine we hot-foot back down the path and back to the safety of the road which we follow until we reach the main A623.

Thankfully Mollie is tired now and isn't too troubled by the traffic, so we walk swiftly along to the bridge and go down the steep steps at the side of it which take us to the river path. The bridge has an underpass, but it seems very low, gloomy and claustrophobic.

The path follows the river through a field, and on the right is a large pond (courtesy of the recent heavy rain) which has frozen over and looks like an ice rink. As we leave the field we are suddenly confronted with our first bog where the land drains down to the river. We pick our way with extreme caution - PC's walking poles come in very handy - and we do an excellent balancing act on a fallen branch. Success. We aren't too muddy at all.

It's easy to follow the path now even though the river winds away to the left. It's a single straight line, though we do have another waterlogged field to contend with. Behind us, though, the clouds are gathering and it is hard to tell whether they are going to bring rain or snow. The air does feel very damp, so it could be either.

We press on, through the last field and onto the tarmac lane which takes us, eventually, down to Bubnell and Baslow.

It has been an interesting walk, but not one to do in very wet weather unless the ground is frozen. But today the weather has worked in our favour, and we have managed to avoid being snowed on (although overnight snow will cover the hills by morning), and the rain didn't start until we were in our cars and driving home.

It's two weeks to our next walk, then it will be a Christmas Break.

SEPTEMBER SUNSHINE WITH SUNGLASSES, SUN CREAM AND SLOE GIN

FROM BASLOW TO WELLINGTON'S MONUMENT, THEN ON TO THE ROBIN HOOD FOR A RETURN THROUGH CHATSWORTH

Today we have something quite unexpected, even though it has been forecast. A stunningly blue, clear and hot late September day. This is what is called an Indian Summer. Long may it last!

We meet up in the large car park at Baslow keen to follow a route we last walked during our 'dog days'. After some memory dredging and using our fingers to help calculate, we reckon it must have been about 8 years ago. A long time to leave before revisiting a good walk.

Before we set off we sort out our rucksacks, and I pull out a small bottle of Sloe Gin - the final product from our walk back in October last year where we managed to salvage some sloes in Deepdale. Rather than carry an unsafe glass bottle around with us (or at least, that's the excuse we use) we feel it's better to sample the gin before walking. Who cares that it isn't yet 10 o'clock? Yes, it's a good one. Pity we haven't got PC's to sample yet (get it bottled, girl!) but this taster certainly puts an additional rosy glow on the walk.

We pay our dues at the parking meter, wincing a little at the cost, then don rucksacks and cross the main road. Where we pause to study the map. Well, it is 8 years since we last walked here and finding the way along residential roads is always harder than moorland paths. We think we're sorted, and set off up behind the italian restaurant (it looks nice, must go sometime) and talk about work, or the lack of it, for those leaving university.

Just as we begin to wonder if we're going the right way we see Bar Road ahead of us and turn up it. This should take us up towards Baslow Edge, and with a few more pauses to check our route we're soon on the tree lined track that presses steeply upwards. There are cows in the fields and walkers aplenty. There's also a heat haze covering the view so that PC is worried that her photos won't turn out.

By now we're discussing upcoming university choices and 6th form choices. Both are equally traumatic. We're also feeling the heat now, so PC ties her hair back with a shoelace and I zip off the bottom of my trousers to make them into shorts. We find a nice boulder to sit on and have a quick drink before we head on through the gate and onto the moor. Good job we have plenty of water with us.

We go through the gate and onto the well trod path up onto the moor. We seem to remember that last time it had been very muddy, rutted and churned up here, possibly by motorbikes, but maybe we're on a slightly different path. It doesn't look to have suffered much recently.

To our left it looks as though there are old quarries gouged out of the hillside, long disused now with tumbled stones being buried by heather and bracken. To the right are superb views across towards Birchen Edge and beyond. There are plenty of people out now, too. Hardly surprising given the glorious weather.

Ahead of us there's a bench, and it doesn't take any persuasion for us to go and take a seat, shrugging off our rucksacks and settling down to enjoy the view. We haven't been walking long, admittedly, but a comfy bench is just too good an opportunity to miss. Sunglasses and sunhat are now essential but we're not complaining.

We've obviously bagged a choice spot, quite a few couples and small groups hover close by for a while hoping we're going to move, but we could quite happily sit here all day. Eventually one party of three, plus dog, sidle towards us and as we start to sort out our rucksacks they stand so close we feel as though we should be on first name terms! The moment we move away, the pounce, and are on the seat before the bench has had time to cool.

Cresting the small rise in the path we can clearly see Wellington's Monument to our right and the prominent Eagle Stone to the left with someone at its base clearly considering climbing it.

We move to the right then realise that the path we need actually started somewhere back down the way we have come. We must have missed the turning since we were enjoying the view so much (or talking to much). Undaunted, and despite eating apples freshly picked this morning, (our concession to healthy eating, they counteract the buns), we follow a very steep narrow path downwards. We're obviously not the only ones to have missed the right turning, but this path would be a little bit scary if the ground was wet. It would probably produce a swift, slippery decent with an uncomfortable landing.

But today the ground is dry and with the help of a few tree branches we make it to the path beneath the Monument with minimum fuss.

Here it is cool and shady, and quiet. There's no one else to be seen or heard as we walk along the slowly descending woodland path. Moss covered boulders loom out of the undergrowth and there's a smattering of golden leaves on the floor. The tree canopy is thinning but most trees have yet to make the dramatic change into autumn colours. Apparently plant life has been lulled into thinking that this is another Spring, and in some parts of the country Spring flowers are already making an appearance. They'll be in for a shock. We see a toadstool the size of plate, then another 'fairy toadstool', the red and white spotted poisonous fly agaric (Amanita muscaria). PC duly takes a photograph.

We pass through a small gate which leads us to a path between a hedge and a wall. Beyond the hedge is a large house and garden which can be glimpsed from time to time. The path takes us down towards Bar Brook and a beautiful stone footbridge across it. From this bridge the dominating view is of the massive concrete bridge which arches over the brook to link the houses with the road. It's an eyesore, and one that we wouldn't like to have the expense of maintaining.

From the bridge we climb slowly up to the road (A621) and emerge into the sunlight once again. It's a fast road, so we have to be careful as we cross over to the stile adjacent to the cottage opposite. Once again we're amongst trees, but these are sparse and consist mainly of spindly birches. The path climbs slowly uphill with plenty of inviting boulders. Eventually we choose a conveniently shaped one to sit on for lunch which gives us good views despite having a stone wall in the foreground.

Salad, sandwiches and coffee are consumed along with the bun - iced cinnamon swirls. Not quite as good as they promised, a little on the dry side and very heavy, but full of essential calories. PC declines a nip from the secret flask (freshly prepared Ramblers Restorative), convinced that added to the earlier sloe gin it will be overkill. So the Ramblers is safe for another week.

It's hard setting off again on a full stomach with the sun beating down, but it isn't far until we've reached the highest point on this side of the walk where we inspect, but don't climb, the huge gritstone rock formation. From here it's all downhill, and crossing the close cropped grass we come upon the remains of an enclosure - clearly marked on the map but not so clear on the ground if you aren't looking for it.

Down the path to the road (A619) we have to negotiate and awkward (for us) stile before facing the traffic again. Swiftly crossing we plunge steeply downhill (via stone steps!) to the wooden footbridge crossing the beautifully named Heathy Lee Brook. The last time we crossed this bridge it was extremely slippery underfoot, but since that ancient time the bridge has been replaced - a plaque stating that it was put up in 2007 after the floods. We hadn't realised, though, that the waters had been so strong as to wash away the original bridge. Must have been scary.

(We remember the floods with stark clarity. We were actually out walking near Derwent not expecting the weather to be quite as bad as it turned out to be. In the end it took me 5 hours to get home as all routes were closed. Oh yes, very memorable.)

Now it's an easy stroll along the back-tracks of the Chatsworth Estate, with one or two rather high stiles to negotiate. We remember the last stile as being a real trial to the dogs last time, but this time we're on our own, and it's a trial for us instead. Then we're into the park with the afternoon sun beating down on us. In the distance we see a herd of deer running, the antlered stage bringing up the rear. Then I realised that we're in a 'field' with cattle. I make a quick dash for the stile, even though the beasties don't even notice us.

We follow the fence around to the Canon Gate which leads us onto the Baslow path. Not far to the car park now, and there are people coming along the path in droves. The good weather has certainly fetched them out.

Naturally, the car park is heaving when we get back, and the inside of the cars boiling. Just enough time to finish off the water and plan for next week. It's been so good revisiting an old walk that we'll try to do the same again.