ABANDON HOPE AND ENTER CAVEDALE

The best laid plans have been thwarted again and our promised hike from Hope up Win Hill has had to be postponed. This time, gales, heavy rain, sleet, hail - the works! A power cut where I live means no hot water and, worse still, no coffee. Fortunately a quick text to PC resolves this and she gamely brings along coffee as well as bun, and we also rearrange our walk; we don't want to be on high ground in these winds.

So, with Hope abandoned we decide to meet in Castleton instead and are surprised, given the weather, how busy it is. Already there are groups of bedraggled schoolchildren/Duke of Edinburgh walkers out, along with the Easter holiday-makers. 

As usual we park up on the road just past the Peak Cavern, drag on all our waterproof gear, then set off down the road heading towards Cavedale. 

As soon as we turn up between the houses to the dale entrance we have a taste of what is to come. The tiny lane is awash and the wind is funnelling down strongly. We push on through the gate and start our upward paddle, leaning against the wind. Strangely enough, the photos do not show how wet it really is!

We pause beneath the castle as a group of youngsters ahead of us stop, seemingly lost. Their discussion lasts a while before they set off again, on the only path ahead!

When we reach the spot where the group had been we realise why they had paused. It feels as though all the four winds have congregated in this one spot and it is extremely difficult to move forward. No wonder they were debating whether to go on or not. For us, though, there is no dilemma. We have every intention of forging ahead. I promise PC (without anything to back up my assertions, naturally) that further up the valley the wind will be less forceful. 

As we fight our way upwards against the wind and through a wide stream-bed there is a brief glimmer of sunshine. PC captures it perfectly. It makes the whole landscape look benign and pleasant.

 So, just to put the record straight, and get rid of the idea that maybe we were just making it up about the weather, I have added one of my own photos (from my phone) below. Yes, the river is the footpath!

As we climb up Cavedale against the tide (it certainly feels that way) the wind does actually lessen although there seems to be more and more water. It cascades over the limestone in a manner that would undoubtedly have made Capability Brown jealous, although he would probably have made the path around it rather than through it.

Eventually we make it through the gate at the top, relieved to have made it over the worst of the river-cum-path. A natural spring is gushing from the woods a little lower down on our left and beyond it is relatively dry (relative to the downpour and soggy ground). We pause to admire the view, have a nip from the secret flask as a reward, then press onwards.

It is nearing lunchtime so we decide to find somewhere sheltered to have food. It isn't easy, but eventually we managed to huddle up behind some rocks that give us sufficient protection from the wind. We are very close to the path, sadly, but that can't be helped. 

My first hot drink of the day (thank you, PC) goes down extremely well, then we follow with sandwiches and, joy of joys, yummy buns and a drink (it's my birthday walk, and PC is treating me!). The buns are fantastic, fat choux buns with fresh cream and sticky chocolate icing on top. And the drink is fizz. Bliss.

A surprising number of walkers come past us, most just say a quick hello, but one couple have no idea where they are or where they are going. The have come up from Castleton, they tell us (no, really!) but wonder where the path leads and if they can get back to Castleton, and how far, and where do they go, and how far have they come and how long will it take.........the questions go on. They have no map, no food, nothing to drink (they tell us with a kind of misplaced pride) and are hoping we will provide directions and instructions. We do the best we can and send them on their way whilst refraining from telling them to be better prepared next time.

The wind is still keen but the rain has stopped by the time we have finished lunch, so we carry on up the valley along the gentler, wide path. It is quite muddy in places and when we come to one of the gates we are in for a paddle. Mollie is the only one who is happy about it.

We continue ahead, avoiding the mud, then veering to the left where the wide swathe of the path climbs up. It is well walked (this is the Limestone Way, after all) but still grassy. As we reach the top of the rise the wind hits us again with renewed force. We are walking into it and feel as though we are pushing against treacle.

Through the gate and we turn right, then right again heading towards Winnat's Pass. The group of hikers we had remarked on earlier (and seen a couple more times) are at a standstill again close to Rowter Farm. It looks as though this time we might be in danger of catching up with them, but they set off again.

However, a few hundred yards later and they are, once more at a standstill. This time we do catch up and overtake them; a group of older teens debating their route. However, there isn't much choice, other than straight ahead.

They follow us to the end of the lane and as we open the gate to get onto the road they decide to take the stile. Seems a waste of energy, especially since they appear to need to stop every few hundred yards or so.

We turn right and head for Winnat's Pass, the group disappear to who-knows-where. The wind is behind us now but at least the rain has stopped.

It is a familiar walk down the winding Pass, and we keep to the left hand side where there is a path behind a wall. Slippery in places over the worn limestone it is important to be cautious.

Once through the gate at the bottom and onto the wide verge running alongside the road we realise that this might be the hardest part of the walk. The whole verge is a sodden mass with running water and slippery mud. PC has her walking poles which she needs to keep herself upright, and I eventually step onto the road with Mollie as it seems the safer option.

With the wind behind me I find myself being pushing into a jog, PC is quite surprised as I pass her but anything we might say to each other is whipped away by the gale.

Eventually I make it back onto the verge, steady myself against the wind which is pushing like crowd of schoolchildren trying to get onto the bus home. When PC catches up we round a small outcrop in the hope that it will protect us. It affords little help, and there is even more water here.

And then it happens: my turn to bite the dust - or rather, the mud and slush. A combination of wind, mud and rain has me on the skating rink to nowhere. I'm not hurt, fortunately, but it is a struggle to get enough purchase to stand up again, even with PC's help. 

No harm done, so we continue carefully down the slope towards the Speedwell Cavern car park. From here there is a pavement to lead us safely back to the cars. However, looking over our shoulders we see a storm coming, and our final stroll becomes a rush to get back before it reaches us. 

Hail and sleet, driven by the battering gale, hits just as we are getting into the cars. Within a couple of minutes the windscreen is white rimmed and visibility is down to a couple of hundred yards. It would be safe to say that we have made it back in the nick of time.

THE RIDGE IN REVERSE

WINNATS PASS TO MAM TOR - UPHILL FIRST

On planning today's walk we realised that, although it is one of our favourites, we had never done it in reverse.

To remedy this oversight we meet up in Castleton (good loos) then drive along up the road to park near the Speedwell Cavern car park (no parking fees on the road except for weekends and bank holidays). We're quite giddy with excitement, the sky is brilliantly clear and blue with hardly a cloud in sight. And the shadows cast by the early sunlight are nothing short of spectacular sending the limestone sculptures of the rocks into sharp relief.

Another relief is that PC has brought a rucksack today - no need for me to carry double then!

And one more thing PC has brought is a bottle of Cointreau. No, the plan isn't to drink our way down it through the day (though it is tempting) but to fill up the secret flask. However, there's no need. There's still plenty of Ramblers Restorative in the flask, and it doesn't do to mix spirits, so instead we have a nip before we set off. Gorgeous. Just like breakfast orange juice, but with a glow.

Glowing, we set off along the footpath which crosses the field between the road and the Speedwell Caverns site. The grass is sodden with early morning dew so we get a little damp, and at the top we come out onto an area which is being tarmacked. As we gingerly tip toe across the still warm and springy surface someone hurries out of the shop opposite to stick signs on the footpath gate to say it is shut. So we were just in time, then, but we were given some resentful looks by the workmen.

Now it's all uphill. We usually come down Winnats in the afternoon at the end of our walk, and it is really good to see it in different light and from a different perspective. We notice things we've not seen before, like a huge fallen gatepost which would make a wonderful seat for weary walkers. We, naturally, aren't that weary, though the uphill is keeping us warm (or maybe that's the cointreau).

In a surprisingly short length of time we find ourselves at the top of the pass and adjacent to Winnats Head Farm. That was pretty painless but we don't congratulate ourselves too soon, we've plenty more uphill climbing to do.

We cross over the road and head for the footpath crossing Windy Knoll. There are two horses in the adjacent field, dozing in the sunshine, but they both manage to perk up when they see us, ever hopeful that a stray polo mint may come their way. They're disappointed, so we give them a consolation pat and continue on our way.

The disused quarry on our right is in deep shadow as we head for the gate onto the road. Up to now we've been discussing all things educational including recent parents' evening, prize giving events and the ways schools seem to want to celebrate mediocrity over genuine achievement. It's good to be able to let off steam (my turn this week) as we are then able to approach life with an enhanced sense of calm. It just shows how beneficial walking can be. Once across the road we're starting the long, steady climb up the slopes of Mam Tor. Since we're still talking (to be honest, we rarely stop talking) we hardly notice the steepness of the slope and we're at the base of the 'staircase' to the Mam Tor summit before we know it. We pause for a breather and to admire the far reaching views. And the view of the cement works!

Now we start the steady climb up the well maintained steps up the hill. Inset into some of the steps are small brass plaques - we see a torq then one of a roundhouse. We've never noticed this one before (probably because we've always been going downhill and gathering speed) and it is particularly fine, so PC takes a picture.

Again, it takes us very little time to reach the summit but rather than go up to the trig point where everyone and their grandmothers seem to be gathering, we skirt the top hunting for a hollow in which to sit out of the wind and enjoy a coffee. Yes, the sun is shining and the sky is clear, but up here there's a stiff breeze blowing. We're unsuccessful on the Edale side of the slope so we cross over to hunt out somewhere on the Castleton side. We drop down a way to where the side of the hill has slipped away, peer cautiously over the edge, then find a convenient sitting place where the hillside has dipped but not yet fallen. We hope our weight won't provide the incentive for it to head downwards!

Naturally the secret flask comes out. After all, we have something to celebrate, we've done all the climbing well before lunch and with relatively little effort. We must be getting fitter, so a couple of nips of the Ramblers Restorative is our reward. Then we have a coffee and a natter (yes, we're still talking) whilst enjoying the view.

It's a wonderful wide vista from here and we can see for miles. The only blot is the ugly cement works - how on earth did they get permission to build such an eyesore? In its heyday Peveril Castle, whitewashed to stand out and be noticed, would have been considered ugly (and very threatening), but in no way could it compete with the monstrosity of the cement works.

By the time we've mused on the landscape, spotted a heron wading in a large puddle and watched a group of children way below us, no doubt on a geography field trip, we've passed enough time to consider getting out the sandwiches. Maybe it's a bit early (but not before noon, we don't want to upset the Picnic Police) but it seems preferable to eat now while we're comfortable than try to find a better spot. However, once the sandwiches are eaten we decide to wait a while for the buns (extreme willpower in force here) so we pack up and set off once more.

It's a long steady walk down towards Hollins Cross with us going against the flow of people. Most of them are puffing on their way up, which makes us feel quite smug. We have spectacular views to Lose Hill and Back Tor but by the time we reach Hollins Cross all we can think about are the buns. So we fine ourselves a wind free hollow on the Edale side and settle down. The buns today are fresh cream apple turnovers; just enough tart in the apples to balance the sugar on the top of the pastry and one of our five a day! They go down extremely well, along with another coffee, and we're glad that we waited a while for them.

After a long, lazy break we go back up to Hollins Cross and take the path that leads to the Hollowford Road. We've never been on this stretch of the path before and we're glad we're not doing it in the wet. Although it has been paved and repaired the steps are uneven and, in places, narrow which means we have to watch where we are putting our feet. It's also quite steep and is one of those cases where it is probably better going uphill than down. A couple pass us in a bit of a lather; they have half an hour to get to Castleton to catch their bus. We wish them luck and dawdle to let them get well ahead of us.

We come off the moor and onto the narrow gully which is the top part of Hollowford Road. It's narrow and running with water, but much better than the one and only time we'd been on this path before when it had been extremely muddy and very wet. At the bottom we come out onto a tarmac lane and pause to read an information board pointing out landmarks and explaining that we'd been on the 'coffin road' from Edale to Castleton from the time before Edale had its own church.

We wander down the road and are soon, seamlessly, back in the centre of Castleton. As we walk through the village we look in a few of the shops selling their Blue John jewellery before heading up the road towards our cars. The sun is dipping behind the hills now and the warmth is suddenly sucked out of the day. All the wonderful shadows and contrasts are gone and Winnats Pass is mired in gloom once again.

We're pleased we've done this reverse walk, it's meant that we've been able to look on it all with fresh eyes. And what's even better, we aren't even tired.