WHITE EDGE AND CURBAR EDGE - AND A SOGGY SEASON END

Bit of a tough choice for this week. I'm waiting for a couple of important phone calls which means we need to walk where there is a half-decent signal (no way are we giving up a walk!), and it is also my 'birthday walk' so I don't want to walk anywhere too dull. Added to the mix is also that we are in the midst of the Easter break which means many more people out and about.

In the end we decide on a walk that we haven't done in a while, taking us onto Curbar Edge and White Edge - or the snake walk as we remember it since last time we were hereabouts we were startled by an adder! This time we will do it in reverse, and get the snakes out of the way.

At least it is sunny this morning, a bonus since the weather is so variable at this time of year and we have already had our fair share of rain, and we park in one of the small bays beneath Curbar Edge and away from the main Pay and Display car park which is already filling up with visitors.

We are soon sorted and cross the road before heading uphill. PC stops almost immediately to take the first photo of the day over the valley and towards Bakewell.

And we are only a few yards up the road when PC spots a carving

in one of the stones at the roadside. It looks like Hebrews
7 25, though it isn't that clear on the photo due to the moss and lichen, some of which we cleared away to see better. It is surprising that we have never spotted this before despite walking up and down here many times over the years.

 We continue up the road, wary of the cars on this narrow winding stretch, and manage to get onto the narrow verge path.  The car park is certainly getting busier now but most people are heading for Curbar Edge first, so we bypass them and go through the gate adjacent to the road to take us onto the access land.

Here it is relatively quiet as we follow the broad swathe of a path as it sweeps around the drystone wall and starts to go downhill. As we approach Sandyford Brook in the dip we are confronted by a quagmire. It is always a bit muddy here but the recent rains have made it particularly unpleasant. Nevertheless, we pick our way across the sludge and manage to avoid the worst of it. On the far side we ascend without slipping back down again, quite a feat.

At the top of the slope there is a sign at the corner of the drystone wall, but we know our way and turn left, walking up the eroded path to the top which is blissfully dry. We pause to enjoy the views westward.

A small group of people are a little way in front of us, they hadn't walked up the same way as us but appear to have come along the vague path linking this side of the road with the bridleway at Jack Flat, so we wait a while to let them get out of the way.

It is a bit unusual to see many people on this higher path, most stick to the Curbar Edge, but it appears that today we'll be seeing a lot of holidaymakers as well as local walkers.

We walk around the large boulders and see the trig point off to our right. We don't bother walking up to it, this part of the moor is soggy again, and there is another group of walkers wandering around is a slightly absent-minded fashion.

It is a straight, easy walk along here as the path gradually segues into White Edge. The boulders are rugged and very enticing, so we stop for a while for a cup of coffee and a chat, although we haven't actually stopped talking since we set off!

The flattened rock we sit on has lovely medallions of lichen growing on it.






Post coffee break and we are off again, continuing along White Edge. Sadly, by now, the sun has gone and a fair breeze has struck up. It hasn't stopped the walkers, though, who are out in droves. We have never, in years of walking around here, seen so many people on this usually ignored Edge.

It is surprising, too, how many of them don't bother to keep their dogs on a lead - and not many of those dogs are well trained (nor are their owners). Clearly the 'All Dogs on Leads' signs don't mean them! Mollie, however, is on her long lead and behaving beautifully.

We are debating how far we'll take the walk. We're tempted to continue to the end of the edge, then drop down to the road near the Grouse Inn, walk along the road then rejoin Curbar Edge at the Froggatt Edge end. The drawbacks, though, are Mollie's fear of heavy traffic and that we know the route down is very muddy at the best of times. And we are getting hungry.

We pause to take a photo of four trees perfectly silhouetted on the horizon, then find a huge rock outcrop to sit beneath. Not only does it shelter us from the path and the wind, it also provides shelter from the few spots of rain that want to ruin lunch.

PC has brought a celebratory (mini) bottle of fizz and proper glasses to drink it out of. A superb treat. As are the buns (the sandwiches, honestly, don't merit a mention). Wonderfully rich and moreish chocolate cheescakes. Mmmm. They taste so good that we don't even care how many calories they have. Followed by coffee we have to agree that it was a superb lunch, and that we are much too full to bother walking all the way around. We shall return, partly, the way we came and cross over to Curbar Edge at some point.

We head off back and just as we are looking for the path off of White Edge I get the first of my phone calls. All is going according to plan. 

We find our path and descent, but the flat moor with its huge tussocks of coarse grass is also wet and muddy. We hop from tussock to tussock with a reasonable amount of agility, until I take a wrong step and, unable to halt my momentum, continue along the route I had planned, go knee deep into a bog and topple with a splat. Fontunately I'm up fairly quickly and out of the mire, but I'm now walking with a distinct squelch and look non too smart either. At least I didn't have much of an audience.

A couple of minutes later I get my second phone call, and I'm pleased it didn't come while I was fishing myself out of the mud.

Then we are up onto Curbar Edge, and the number of people here increases dramatically. We amble over to the very edge to look over.

The views are, naturally, excellent, though it is a pity that the sun has gone in. The hefty breeze is drying out my walking trousers brilliantly though.

Even looking down from here, though a little bit vertigo inducing, is a treat, and we see a partly completed millstone abandoned at the bottom of the rocks.

We continue along to the end, then through the gate onto the rubbly path taking us back down to the road and the cars. And still more people are setting out.

A few minutes and we are back at the cars. 

We weren't certain at the time, but now we have confimed it, that was our last walk of our current series. PC is off away on her boat again so won't be back until summer. Until then I hope to get out myself - but I say that every year and rarely succeed. But if I do, I'll post my walk.

BASLOW EDGE AND HIGHLAND CATTLE

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 www.artsinthepeak.co.uk ) 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!

SNOW, SNAKES AND STONE CIRCLES

THREE EDGES: WHITE EDGE, CURBAR EDGE AND FROGGATT EDGE

This is a seriously cold day with high winds and a smattering of snow on the high ground. First thing this morning everything was white; snow coupled with a heavy frost, but underfoot it was wet and slushy. Not exactly perfect walking conditions, but we are nothing if not hardy!

We meet up next to the Grouse Inn, as we did on our last walk, but our route is to be different. We layer up - plenty of layers given the driving wind - then cross the road and head for the path which cuts across the field opposite the Inn. It takes us a while to get from one side of the field to the other, nothing to do with the conditions but more to do with numerous texts from daughter relaying the outcome of a (thankfully good) school report.

With that little drama out of the way we cross over a makeshift bridge of stone slabs, then go through a gate and walk up what appears to be a semi-permanent stream-bed. We're in sparse birch woodland here, but the path is clear. When we reach the wooden signpost we turn right then almost immediately left, clambering uphill over some gritstone boulders. 

As we gain height we get some excellent views all around, but we are already finding quite deep pockets of snow and the muddy bogs are covered with ice. When we come level with White Edge there is another useful wooden signpost, and we turn right onto the edge.

We can really feel the cold wind here. It is extremely bitter, and the edge is very exposed. To our left is the broad, relatively flat expanse of the aptly named Big Moor, to our right the edge drops away to Stoke Flat.

A short distance along the edge we come to a sculpture, a gritstone inscribed  'cube'. We've seen similar before on a walk (see: Moors, Reservoirs and Stone Circles - posted 8.3.12), and they are the result of the endeavours of Arts In The Peak: see www.companionstones.org.uk

This looks as though it should turn (like a Rubik's Cube), and the photographs on the above website seem to support this, but the stone is weathered and a little mossy and we couldn't move it! And, as with most of the other stones we have encountered, we struggle to make sense of the poem inscribed on it.

We pass the stone and continue along the edge, trying our hardest to avoid as much of the mud as possible, but that is a hard job. The path starts to rise and we start to feel some snow blowing on the wind; the hard kind of snow with ambitions to become hail! Fortunately it doesn't last long and we - at the point of no return - are relieved.

Although it is still too early for lunch we decide to stop for a 'snack'; ie a nip from the secret flask and some home-made Florentines. We descend from the ridge to find a suitable boulder to sit on, and as we are preparing our elevenses PC spots a pair of deer. They are large, but quite hard to see until they start to move. They don't seem unduly worried about people, until some walkers on the ridge with a loose dog come along. The dog scents or sees the deer and sets off after them. The deer run, but don't put too much effort into it, obviously conserving energy. They are right to do so, too. The dog soon gives up and the deer saunter away.

We enjoy our nip from the flask (home-made Ramblers Restorative) with a ginger Florentine, then some Cointreau from the second flask with a glace fruit Florentine. Mmm, they bring a glow to the cold day.

Back up on the ridge we head towards the trig point, surrounded by snow, then continue onwards and slowly downwards as the path grazes the corner of a field and gives us a choice. Ultimately we want to go right towards Curbar Edge, but it seems like a good time to stop for lunch as the sun is making a feeble, half-hearted effort to emerge, so we go straight on looking for somewhere suitable to settle down to eat.

There are fewer comfortable looking boulders here, but there is a lot of dry, dead bracken which should make an adequate cushion for us out of the wind. We choose a likely spot and start the long process of remove rucksacks, cameras etc prior to settling down. That's when PC sees it. Right where she would have sat down is a snake, an adder, basking in the weak sunlight. It is sluggish with the cold (thank goodness) and about 2 foot long! Urgh. As we watch it slowly burrows back into the bracken and within five minutes it is completely hidden from sight.

Our mind is made up. No sitting in the bracken. We'll wait until we can find an adder-free spot for lunch.

We go down the hill, cross over the extremely muddy patches near Sandyford Brook, then climb gently upwards towards the road and the car park at Curbar Gap. Before we go through the gate to the car park we spot another Companion Stone with a more understandable poem.

We cross the car park, climb up the few steps and head on the path towards the gate which gives access to Curbar Edge. Before we reach it, though, there are some picnic tables and a bench. Perfect. We settle down for lunch with a good view, and no chance of sitting on a snake.

It seems to have become colder, there is no hint of sunshine now and the wind speed seems to have increased. We hurry up with our lunch, and even the very good fresh cream eclairs are gobbled rather than savoured. After eating we huddle over our coffee cups trying to leech some warmth from the hot brew, but forgo a second cup in favour of getting moving.

Once on Curbar Edge we press on. I don't think I have ever been so cold on a walk before, despite wearing five layers, as well as scarf, hat and two pairs of gloves. The wind really has managed to get through everything.

There are more people here on this edge, but they are all walking pretty swiftly to keep warm. We keep pausing for PC to take photos, and once we start to descend it starts to feel better.

As we come up toward some trees we notice some stones poking out of the ground, and they appear to be in a roughly circular shape. Sure enough, checking with the OS map, this is a stone circle. We're both surprised that we have never seen it before, it is very close to the path, but maybe it has been covered with bracken before. Anyway, we have to stop to look at it and take some pictures. See: www.megalithic.co.uk  (Stoke Flat - Froggatt) for more details and photos.

Leaving the circle behind us we continue on the path and through a gate. The path gets extremely muddy in places but with trees growing all around it is, at least, sheltered from the wind and we feel much more comfortable.

It doesn't take us long to reach the main A625, but we cross over and down the steep steps which firstly cross over a stream then take us up into Hay Wood where we were last week. From here it is only a short walk across the fields and back to the cars next to Grouse Inn.

Despite the bitter cold, and the close encounter with the snake, it has been a very enjoyable walk. We may have a few interruptions to our walks over the next few weeks, but we'll definitely get out when we can.

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.

CURBAR EDGE to WHITE EDGE

What a difference a week can make. It's almost springlike with the sun shining out of a clear blue sky, and even though the temperature has only managed to creep a couple of degrees above freezing it feels much warmer. On Curbar Edge weather-worn hollows on the tops of the gritstone boulders hold pockets of ice shimmering in the unaccustomed sunlight. The fine weather has brought many people out although they are all, like us, muffled up against the chill that bites hard on this exposed edge.

We pace ourselves along the long stretch of rock, not wanting this tantalizing but entirely false sense of freedom to be over too soon. The bright sun on brooding rocks brings everything into sharp relief and the views, as usual, are outstanding. It never fails to surprise us how far and how much we can see. Our horizon is taken up by the distant bulks of Kinder Scout, Bleaklow and Howden Edge all liberally covered with snow and looking magnificent. Closer is the long length of Stanage Edge - a familiar haunt of ours - with its rugged cliffs looking as though they have been buttressed with columns of snow. Here, thankfully, it is clear! Sadly, we won't have spectacular photographs today, Paparazzi Cate has 'the wrong lens'. Never mind, we'll make the best of it.
We amble along following the undulations of the ground until Paparazzi Cate slips on a slight downward slope and falls with a definite squelch. But it's OK. The buns in her rucksack are safe. She had heroically protected them as she fell. That's dedication for you. Of course, now she tries to hide the soggy, muddy patch on her behind without much success, it's there for all to see. Wish I had the camera!

The path on top of Curbar Edge is easy to follow as it runs along to join Froggatt Edge. We decide to keep on walking until lunch beckons, then backtrack to where we can drop down to the lightly wooded lower slopes below and then return to the car.

However, inspiration strikes when we see an indistinct track off to our right near an old field enclosure and we set off across open land towards White Edge. The path becomes ever more obscure as we press on. An old wooden post, probably the remains of a disappeared fence-line, carefully nurses a tiny bilberry plant in a pocket of rotting timber. The plant seems impossibly fragile in this harsh landscape.

We're alone now apart from two sheep who act like escaped convicts, eyeing us suspiciously then sidling away. All the other walkers are on one or other of the edges, and we're traipsing across the rough moor in the middle. We feel almost intrepid as we negotiate tussocks of dried, bleached grasses and ice-encrusted bogs.

As the land dips we know that our progress may be impeded, we spy reedy grasses and know that we'll hit water soon. We hear it before we see it, although we've already found the peaty bog that accompanies the moorland stream. But before we venture knee deep into the mire we see a safe crossing place a little way upstream where we are able to leap gazelle-like (!!) across some boulders.

Still dry shod we arrive at a small copse of trees with sheep-cropped grass beneath. The sun is shining on a large flat boulder which positively invites us to sit down. How could we refuse?

Lunch is eaten enjoying the solitude and silence. Coffee is drunk, a cheery nip from the secret flask consumed and the buns (fresh cream doughnuts) are brought out. They were, apparently, the lowest calorie buns on offer that day! No matter, every calorie is savoured.

White Edge is in our sights so with our energy stores suitably replenished we forge ahead without even a hint of a path to follow, and arrive exactly where we want to be. Amazing! We have a steep uphill pull onto the Edge but we're there with relative ease - the doughnuts must have helped - and was the effort worth it? Definitely. The extra few metres of height up here make all the difference. Sure, we lose the views of the valley bottoms but the distant panorama has widened out.
All that remains is the traverse along the edge, the path much narrower here than on Curbar Edge but no less distinct, passing many more walkers and the stark, white trig point at 365m. We descend, turn right around the field boundary and go sharply downhill, negotiating a muddy bog and the even muddier Sandyford Brook before climbing up to the road and back to our cars.

As we sit on the back of our cars removing our boots we look up at the cliffs of Curbar Edge. Maybe it's a trick of the light, but staring down at us are some Easter Island Heads. Next to them is a bear. The heads are photogenic but the bear refuses to be captured on film.

With the photos taken we round off a wonderful walk on a wonderful day and keep our fingers crossed for next time.