We tend to keep our visits to Chatsworth for the grim, grey months of winter when access is easier than on the small, side roads that have a tendancy to remain icy throughout the day. But this time we were on the hunt for autumn colour, and PC suggested Chatsworth, so here we are on a crisp morning with a blue sky overhead and, if the trees in the car park are anything to go by, plenty of colour to see.
This is an all-too familiar walk to us, probably just as well since I can't find the map anywhere. I know when I used it last - to write the last blog post - but I seem to have misplaced it since then. At least it won't be much of a problem today.
Our first photos come from the garden centre car park (en route to the conveniences) where the displays of baskets and pots are a joy to see. Then we head off down through the small wood to join the road, over the bridge then right onto the footpath through the field. Fortunately today there are no cows, though there are sheep aplenty.
There are quite a few walkers about, although it isn't half term in Derbyshire yet it is in other parts of the country, so there are plenty of holidaymakers to add to the locals who have been tempted out by the sunshine. We pause while PC takes off her coat, it really has warmed up, then watch a buzzard soaring high above us.
We continue along the field, cross the main road and walk up the lane at the side of Beeley church and into the village. A right hand then a left hand turn and we are on the quiet lane flanked by stone houses. This leads us past some interesting chicken coops, then a slight incline as we pass the turning to Moor Farm and head straight on along the narrow path next to the hedge which leads to a stile and gate. Once past this we are flanked by a steep field to our left and woods behind a wall on our right.
There seems to be a choice here, into the woods or continue along the wall. We always go into the woods (Beeley Plantation) so do the same again. There is a stone stile, a very high one, in the wall but fortunately the gate works easily. A much better option.
Once inside the wood we are enveloped by the wonderful scent that is peculiar to autumn: rich, earthy, damp and fragrant. What a pity it can't be bottled. The path is wide under the trees and we keep getting glimpses of colour through the branches. A group of children, with a couple of adults, come towards us so we step off the path to let them pass. One child is in a wheelchair which must have been awkward in some places along here.
Further on we come to the stream, Beeley Brook, which crosses theh path with there being a choice of rocky stepping stones or wet feet. Once at the other side we look back, and regret not taking a photo before, but we've kept our feet dry so aren't taking the risk again.
From here the path gets steeper and a little muddy, though in places it is either completely dry or boggy. We continue uphill, the stream is on our left now and quite a way below us, and we hope that our photos do it justice.
One of the trees on our left catch our eye, it has some splendid bracket fungus growing on it so, naturally, we take photos. A couple of other walkers catch us up and exchange a few words before we move on and they take our place, camera in hand.
The path begins to level out eventually then sneakily zig-zags back on itself. Good job we remember our way. We climb a little more then once again the path levels and we find one of our 'familar' sitting places; a few rocks on the wooded slope.
So we settle down to enjoy a drink - ginger vodka today, a first attempt at making this and a definite success - and a coffee, as well as a natter.
Time to press on, and too early for lunch, so we pack up and continue on our way, the path eventually leading us out of the woods and onto the rough unnamed road from Beeley Lodge. We cross this and we're on the Rabbit Warren, though no sign of rabbits today. The stile is a high one but we are feeling, and looking, surprisingly agile.
The walk across here gives wonderful far ranging views, and with the benefit of a clear sky and good weather we decide to sit on the edge to eat lunch. Sandwiches and our second coffee are consumed, along with fat choux buns oozing with cream. They are becoming a bit of a favourite.
It is very tempting to sit here all day, it isn't even particularly cold, but again we have to move on. Nearing the end of the Rabbit Warren there are cows next to the path though fortunately for me they don't even seem to notice us.
Another steep stile to clamber over, and the tree directly opposite (a magnificent beech) has more bracket fungus - so another photo opportunity.
Looking back from where we have come the tree arching over a gate and stile looks rather splendid, and it is a shame that the photo doesn't manage to do it justice.
We don't follow the main 'top' path that would eventually lead to the lakes but instead weave our way on small little used paths that skirt around and gradually descend.
There are certainly more people about now, these woods and paths are much closer to the main house and gardens, but we manage to avoid too many people .
We do get the occasional glimpses through the trees to the landscape of the park, and some of the straight avenues in the far trees that must have been planned so well without any hope of seeing them come to maturity.
By the time we reach the farmyard area and the path into the main house car park there are people everywhere.
We make our way through what feels like crowds, looking rather dishevelled and downbeat compared to most of them who are dressed for a day out visiting a smart house rather than hiking. But we get down to the bridge and start to enjoy the colour again.
The sheep appear oblivious of the views, their only interest being grass.
Once we are over the bridge and wandering along the grass at the side of the river we can see across to the house and gardens, and the woods behind are a tapestry of muted colours.
The house does look rather splendid in the autumnal light.
And the river appears tranquil.
We abandon the riverside and cross the parkland heading directly to our starting place. The colourful trees here stand out as they are not hemmed in by neigbours, so we manage a final 'fix' of colour before we reach the cars. All in all, today has turned out to be superb.
Yes, autumn is upon us and I give thanks to the poet John Keats and his Ode to Autumn (which I studied for A level English Lit oh so many years ago) for the title of this post.
We've had another break for late holidays, but now we are both back for the forseeable future, and whilst we have been away autumn has snuck up. Sunny, dry days and chilly nights have pushed the trees into showing their glorious firey colours and we are hoping to capture some of this on today's walk.
After a brief debate we decided to head for Cressbrook Dale. It's somewhere we usually visit earlier in the year to see the orchids and wild flowers, but there are plenty of trees so fingers crossed we'll have something worth photographing.
We meet, as usual, at the Monsal Head car park behind the pub, to avail ourselves of the local conveniences, then back to our cars to drive down the steep narrow road into the valley bottom. Already we have lovely views of the golden leaves, but it certainly isn't safe to take photos whilst driving!
The little car park at the side of the River Wye is empty so we pull up and get ready for our walk. And yes, we have plenty of catching up to do so we are talking twenty to the dozen. It is a lovely crisp and sunny day, but we have had rain over the last couple of days so we are not expecting it to be totally dry underfoot, but it doesn't look like rain is a possibility now even though we pack our waterproofs.
We head up the road towards the very smart Mill, admiring the ponies in the fields and the trees on the opposite hill. We take the right hand road at the Mill and start the steady climb upwards. There are some lovely trees here but a good photographic view of them tends to be blocked by others that, so far, have refused to do anything other than stay green.
At the sharp hairpin in the road we walk straight ahead on a wide track which leads to a gate. It's a bit muddy at the far side of the gate, but at least there aren't any cows here - there had been on a previous walk, and I'm not fond of cows.
This field stays reasonably level for a while before decending in a slippery slope to the bottom. At the side of the slope, though, are blackberry bushes and we debate stopping to pick some. But there aren't too many fruit on them, no doubt others have been here before us, so we leave them and carry on.
At the bottom we slide a little towards the small gated bridge over a completely dry stream bed (but we have seen this flooded and been unable to proceed) and at the far side we are into the woods. Yet again the vivid colour we were hoping for isn't particularly evident here, but that doesn't mean that it isn't a lovely walk. It is. It's a narrow winding path with a few undulations and rocky patches which comes out into the open, sheep and rabbit nibbled valley of Cressbrook Dale. It is completely dry here and with the sun shining it is warm enough to remove layers.
We walk up the valley until we are beneath Peter's Stone (or Peter's Rock if you prefer) then scramble up to the rocky knoll that sits beside it where we find somewhere to sit for lunch. The sandwiches/salads are of little interest, but the coffee is superb and the buns - fresh cream eclairs - are perfect. We have an excellent vantage point here in the sun so we sit for some time putting the world to rights.
Eventually we descend via the longer, easier slope towards Wardlow Mires, double back on the main track beneath Peter's Stone, and head for the footbridge and stile which takes us up into Tansley Dale. We haven't ever walked up here before, but it is an easy stroll despite it being uphill, and part way up there is a huge warren full of rabbit holes.
At the top we study the map a while before rejoining the path behind a man and wife, and they are making very heavy weather of it. We have to keep waiting for them to get far enough ahead as we are walking much faster. At the next stile the lady struggles to get over then walks on while her husband stands and waits. As we approach the stile he asks if we need help! I give him a curt No Thank You, seething with indignation at his assumption of our ineptitude, and go over the stile in short order. He wanders off to join his struggling wife.
The path goes through a field and soon we are at the field gate onto a lane. The couple are there before us, and standing in the gateway with the gate open, looking puzzled. They are following a guidebook rather than a map, have one small rucksack between them and are clearly not regular walkers but there are signs here so they shouldn't be lost. I tell them we'll close the gate, but they just stand there looking vague, so I pull the gate shut as they shuffle foward. We then turn left along the track which runs between two stone walls and keep our eye open for our next path, which is across some fields. The husband and wife trail along a little way behind us.
Just before the track meets the road there is a stone stile and a footpath sign pointing across the fields. Again, we are over in no time and heading across the field at a good pace, determined to get well in front. We need not have bothered, the couple seem to have continued onto the road which leads to Litton.
The fields slope down a little, then start to climb giving increasingly good views across Cressbrook Dale. We cross another track, with a very steep stone stile, then we reach the field with the cows. Time to be brave. These seem to be quite young, and a curious Jersey ambles towards other while the others look on with interest. PC takes some photos and I manage to walk past without running. The cows had been clustered around our next gateway but most have them have moved away so our way is clear.
Part way across the next field we turn to admire the view behind us and discover that we are being followed. Keep calm!
Soon enough we are out of the fields and into the woods at the top of the Cressbrook Dale valley. This is quite a precarious walk, the path has been cleared a bit but although it is narrow it is on a definite slope, and there are still plenty of brambles trying to snag at our legs.
We pause for a moment to enjoy the view which opens out through the trees to the opposite side of the valley and the rock faces at Wardlow Hay Cop, which look magnificent and very prehistoric. Further along we decide to take the path that goes downhill with the benefit of a stepped section, rather than keep to the high level track, and we eventually find ourselves back on the track near the hairpin bend.
From here it is a steady downhill walk along the road, although there do seem to be a lot of cars all of a sudden, and the return to the car park which is now, understandably, full. And we have time to sit and chat (even more) before making plans for our next walk in a couple of weeks time.
After our walk last week we decided to go for one that we had done, in part, before but had not managed to complete the whole circuit due to bad weather. With a fair wind and reasonable chance of sunshine we meet in the car park at Baslow before I lead the way to the parking spot near Ramsley Reservoir at Shillito Wood.
There are quite a few cars here today, and we do wonder if there is some kind of organised event going on, but before we have finished togging up a couple of the cars leave and it becomes much quieter. As we remarked last week, this is peak holiday season so we shouldn't be too surprised to see more people about.
We head off 'Into The Woods' (thank you Meryl Streep et al) where the going underfoot is soft and springy. The old cross is on our right as we walk diagonally to the bottom corner where we leave the woods and cross over the road to the gate at the other side.
Almost immediately on our left we see in the grass on of the inscribed artist stones that we have photographed before on our walks. This one is starting to look a little weathered, but the moss growing on it gives it a rugged charm.
We only take a couple of steps before we see a pair of horses and their riders coming towards us along the track at a brisk canter. Prudently we stand to one side but fortunately the riders rein back to a walk as they approach and we pass a friendly 'good morning' before heading on our way.
The track is wide and easy to follow, used by walkers, riders and by woodland management vehicles. Foxlane Plantation and Ramsley Moor are on our left and a little further on there is the steeper slope of Hewetts Bank, but for now the track is fairly straight and level, though a little muddy in a few places. There is a sparse covering of birch trees with denser woodland to the right.
It doesn't take us very long to arrive at the gate onto Car Road (which is a bridleway at this point) and we realise that if we do our planned walk we will be back at the car park in no time. It is time for a re-think, and a quick scan of the map gives us an alternative, so we set off up Car Road towards Unthank then turn left onto the next footpath, which takes us into Smeekley Wood.
The stream on our left is very attractive, and running quite fast. There is also a very convenient fallen tree next to it, so we decide to stop for a coffee break which, naturally, ends up lasting long enough to turn into lunch time.
Coffee, sandwiches and fat fresh cream scones do nothing for the waistline, but contribute greatly to a sense of contentment and satisfaction.
We spend some time sat on our log before deciding to move off along the woodland path. It is wide enough to follow easily, although these woods are clearly used by locals who know their way and have made myriad shortcuts and small paths that are ready to snare the unwary. We make sure we keep an eye on where we are going with constant references to the map.
These are very attractive woods with streams running through, a variety of trees and some fallen trees too. We wonder if there are bluebells in spring.
As we continue we do spot something on a tree ahead, and as we near it we see that it is Tinky Winky of Teletubbies fame fastened to a tree. Whether he is a lost toy fixed there by a kindly passer-by so that it can be easily spotted by its owner, or some kind of bizarre sacrificial victim, we really couldn't say. Of course, it does set us off remembering children's TV, both of our era and that of our children.
There is a slight hesitation as we consult the map again, we have a gate ahead and a bridge on our right, but the ahead path is the one we need as it skirts Bank Wood and, after crossing meadow, brings us onto Horsleygate Road.
It is only a short walk down Horsleygate Road to Eweford Bridge and from here we decide to take the footpath, marked on the map, which cuts out a huge bend in the road and takes us up towards Unthank and Unthank Hall. However, the start of the path takes some finding, it isn't signed and only a derelict gate hints at the way, and then we have to wade through overgrown brambles and weeds for quite a distance until we cross a rickety stile beyond which walking becomes a little easier. The path still isn't clear on the ground, and an absence (deliberate or otherwise) of signposts mean the map is crucial, but we follow what we hope is the path, through a gate and a couple of fields, eventually climbing slowly upwards.
Eventually the way does become a little clearer as another path joins from the right, and we go through fields that are used to graze horses as we head towards the road. Just as we reach it we see an interesting water trough for the animals: complete with goldfish.
We come out onto Unthank Lane across from the Hall, turn right and begin the steady uphill slog along the road and past Burrs Wood. It has become very warm, and quite humid too, so we are soon taking off layers and having to rest. It isn't particularly difficult walking but the combination of heat and humidity soon saps the energy. It's a good job we still have plenty to talk about.
As the road rises up and beyond the wood there are fields to either side of us, and everything becomes very level again. There is hardly any traffic and the circulation of a breeze makes the walking easier. It is a straight road now, taking us to Far Lane where we turn right and come to Shillito Wood again. We pause to admire a 'den' built with branches and sticks, which even has the luxury of a seat inside, before heading back to the car park.
So it hasn't been quite the walk we had originally planned, but it has turned into a better one. The last part was a bit of a slog, road walking always is, and accompanied with the heat and humidity it was never going to be pleasant, but we have had a really good day out and ventured to places we haven't visited before.
How long it will be before our next walk, though, is something we can't plan for just now.
I can't believe how long it has been since we managed to get out walking. It has been a pretty grim summer for me and this walk, now that PC is back, is the chance for us to catch up and for me to breathe a little. We have a vague plan in mind and meet up at Cutthroat Bridge where, after confusion and discussion, we decide to do the Bamford Edge walk using two cars - one at either end. It's so long since we've walked we both doubt our fitness.
So we pile into my car (I know the way to the parking!) and drive back down the road and turn towards Bamford before taking a left turn and winding upwards on the small road to the pull-in place. Here we have some excellent views of the valley and the hills beyond.
The stile to the start of our walk is immediately on our left and we are soon over it and heading uphill. We have a choice of paths but the 'straight and true' is the one we choose. We like to get the climbing done early while we still have breath and energy.
The bracken is high but the views are starting to open out. There's a slight haze but we can still see a long way. And we have plenty to talk about.
The heather is in bloom and the hills are swathed in purple. The rugged gritstone of Bamford Edge is ahead of us as we climb a little higher onto the ridge above it. We walk along a little way before descending through the heather and onto Bamford Edge itself. The views from here are spectacular.
Despite it still being the holiday season we have the whole ridge to ourselves and can keep stopping to admire the views, at least, we do when we stop talking for long enough! The purple heather reaches right up to the edge and we soon have views along the reservoirs.
The further we walk the more we can see of Ladybower and of Crook Hill in the distance.
The path dips and starts to fall away from the edge, at the same time becoming narrower and less distinct. There is no proper, official path here, but it is access land and we know where we are heading, more or less. There are a few sheep here too, but they aren't particularly interested in us.
The path takes us to a wall and whilst there is a track beyond it we stop to take stock. It does look vaguely familiar, but not in a good way. We decide to have a quick scout on the path to see if it is the one we want, but we don't have to go more than a few yards to find that all it does is take us across the moor and through thick undergrowth. We back-track and take another narrow path continuing in the direction we had initially been heading. Again, we cross a wall but this time the path is much more promising. Still narrow, and cutting through very high bracken, we follow the line of an unnamed stream that has cut deep into the moor and flows a way below us. We find a crossing point over some stepping stones and head towards what is marked on the map as Pillars. All we can see are two stone built pillars, neither very tall, and a rocky ridge suitable for our lunch stop. We have made much better time than we had expected, although it is starting to drizzle.
Our course, no walk is complete without buns, and this week, for our first walk back, it is fat choux buns oozing with fresh cream and topped with a swirl of chocolate. They go down extremely well with our coffee after the sandwiches.
After lunch, with the soft rain barely making any difference to us, we continue on our way. The bracken is, if anything, even higher here and the path less distinct. We follow the line of a drystone wall then, at last, it becomes a little clearer. The path keeps to the contour line of the hill, passes by a lone tree, then starts to descend to Jarvis Clough.
It is a little slippy here, and once we reach the stream we have to make a long stride (with the help of walking poles) to get across.
Then it is uphill for a short stretch to reach the wide, easy path which will lead us back to the road. It stops raining as we walk along and soon we are at Cutthroat Bridge heading back to the car. All we have to do now is drive back to join car number 1.
The walk has taken far less time than we had anticipated, but it has been an excellent one nonetheless. We are eager to plan for next week too.
We couldn't have known as we fought the gales at Castleton that we would be on our last walk of the season. Sadly, we are both of an age where elderly parents cause more loss of freedom than our children ever did, and we have both had to cancel too many times due to the demands of PC's father and my mother.
After much nail-biting and frantic phoning PC finally managed to call someone in to help with her father just before she was due to go out to her boat. So she has escaped. I, alas, have not.
I had been hoping to get out walking for a few days but have been unable to, and this morning seemed to be going the same way. But in the end I decided that I needed to get away, if only for a couple of hours, so instead of the Peak District I headed for the Dukeries, and Clumber Park, which is less than half an hour away.
It is at this time of year that PC always wants to go on a bluebell hunt, so with the sun shining and a small bag packed, I set off with a mission. This walk is for her! (I know she will understand).
I drove into Clumber at the Carburton end; the main road that bisects the park is a national road, known as Lime Tree Avenue, so is free to drive on, though parking anywhere in the park will cost you £6.80 unless you are a NT member (or can avoid the cash collectors on their bikes). Luckily today is a quiet day so even though I park between the trees just off the road there doesn't seem to be anyone about.
I decide to try to bed in my newish boots. I've had them a while but they steadfastly refuse to turn comfortable, and as such I have been wary of using them on anything other than gentle strolls. So on they go - nope, still not comfortable - grab my camera and bag and set off.
Within a couple of minutes I am in the trees on a tiny path, enjoying the silence and the freedom that comes of being alone.
Of course, what I am looking for is that quintessential English spring flower, the bluebell, and from regular walks in these woods in years gone by I know there should be some nearby.
The path takes a couple of turns and then I spot a large clump over to my left. A few paces and I am close enough for some photos.
But I know that the best is yet to come. A little way further along the tiny path meets a larger one, and there in front, and to the right, is the huge swathe of bluebells I have been looking for. They are superb, and the camera cannot even begin to do them justice.
I stand in the middle of them an inhale the soft sweet scent. It is quite magical.
The flowers are all around me, and a panorama shot is called for.
I find it really hard to give up on the flowers, there is no one around and I wander through the bluebells enjoying the scent, the silence, the feeling of peacefulness.
It is hard to take my eyes off the carpet of blue at my feet, but when I do I see the soft, zingy-green leaves of new beech trees. Their colour contrasts sharply with the flowers.
Eventually I wander back to the path and set off deeper into the woods. The bluebells are still on my left, along with beech and pine. I hear my first cuckoo too!
The path is straight, easy to follow and completely hemmed in by trees. I know some people find woodland eerie, probably a throwback to tales of Red Riding Hood and the like, but I feel totally at ease here.
A take a right turning and wander along another path. The bluebells are diminishing now but there is still plenty to see. A butterfly decides to accompany me, fluttering alongside, stopping a while, then flying again.
After a while it gets bored of my company and disappears.
I have a number of tracks to choose from, and eventually take one one my right. Then the cuckoo starts calling again, and this time keeps it up for a considerable length of time. The echoes amongst the trees make it hard to work out where the sound is coming from, at first I thought it was ahead of me but I eventually realise that it is somewhere behind.
This path is very rough and there are a lot of tall, spindly birch saplings here, replacements for the occasional clearance of older trees. There are a few other trees too, including pine, showing off their young cones.
I am pretty sure that I am not far from the car now, even though the woods have thickened up all of a sudden and the path seems to have diminished into nothing. I look around, spot a clearing through the trees and head for it. Sure enough this clearing opens out and there are a number of paths radiating from it. I get my bearings and walk towards, what I hope is, the direction of the road.
Yes, I'm right. I emerge onto Lime Tree Avenue only a few hundred yards away from my car. I walk between the trees and enjoy the birdsong, the greenery, the sunshine.
I haven't been out for long, and I haven't walked very far, but it has been a much needed and very enjoyable walk nonetheless. With luck on my side I might just manage to get out into the Peak District again sometime soon.
Our first photos come from the garden centre car park (en route to the conveniences) where the displays of baskets and pots are a joy to see. Then we head off down through the small wood to join the road, over the bridge then right onto the footpath through the field. Fortunately today there are no cows, though there are sheep aplenty. 
