SUNSHINE ON EYAM MOOR

Yes, the title of the post gives away our destination this week, but also our surprise. I don't think we have ever walked on or near Eyam Moor without a hint of rain; and to be honest, it is usually torrential! So sunshine is a bonus.

As is the heavy frost that lies like a thin covering of snow all around here. So yes, it is chilly, time for plenty of layers.

We park on the rough track on Sir William Hill Road and by the time we are out of the cars the only other vehicle, a huge lorry almost blocking the entrance to the track, has moved on.

Already the views are splendid and we are so looking forward to the walk. We climb over the stile - they never seem to get any smaller! - and take the path straight ahead that skirts the drystone wall. Looking over the wall we can see for miles.

It is a good job that it is so frost as the boggy patches on the path, of which there are many, have a crispy surface which prevents us being mired in mud. We still have to employ some nifty footwork in places though as there are deeper puddles that are ready to embrace the unwary.

We continue along the wall-line even though in places the path is a deep hollow where rainfall has eroded the soil and rock, but at least the potential for mud is behind us. There are a few more walkers about today, but that is hardly surprising given what a glorious day it is.

At the end of the path we turn right and clamber over another very high stile. We have views straight ahead of Bretton Clough with Abney on our right. We turn right along the wide path with a steep drop down to Bretton Clough on our left.

This is an easy, fairly linear path that has yet another stile before taking us down by easy steps towards Highlow Brook. The last stretch, on a steep muddy path that has frozen over, is a bit tricky but we manage it without mishaps.

At the bottom we reach the wider path that runs alongside Bretton Brook/Highlow Brook but rather than taking the right hand turn towards Stoke Ford we turn left instead in the general direction of Bretton.

We are under the trees here, but the sunlight is filtering through and it is lovely. The path is rising slowly and the stream is getting lower and further away from us. Soon we are out in the open again, brown scrub and lingering frost.

Once we turn a descending corner though we know we have found the right spot for lunch. We are in Bretton Clough, the sun is shining, there is Bretton Brook, there are trees, and there is also a very conveniently placed drystone wall to sit on.

We have a drop out of the secret flask first, the remains of the vanilla vodka, then out comes coffee, sandwiches and bun. PC's buns - chocolate muffins with fresh cream - are greeted with great anticipation. Until she says they have cherry in them. I hate cherry, so we follow the pantomime of dissecting the muffins to remove the cherry conserve (which Mollie devours with relish - are dogs supposed to like fruit jams?) because I am determined to enjoy the chocolate and cream bit. I won't give up on the buns without a fight!

It is tempting to linger in this spot, we have the sun on us and it is lovely, but the odd cloud keeps passing over and with it a chill, so we pack up our things. As we are about to head off we see some hang-gliders floating silently in the sky above us, and then a buzzard soaring with much less effort and more grace. We watch the bird until it spirals higher and out of sight. 

From here the path is pretty straight forward but clearly not that well used. On the map there are a number of side paths with only a hint of them on the ground. We continue ahead until we cross a small bridge then turn left through a gate and up through the woods.

It is a bit steep but soon we are out above the trees and over another stile onto a path that runs behind a farm and fields. Pretty soon we are out onto a lane and we are at Nether Bretton. We are briefly tempted by the eggs for sale at the house but instead, after a quick consultation of the map, turn left onto the rutted byway skirting Bretton Moor and leading back towards Sir William Hill Road.

There is still ice on the puddles here, and in places it is deeply rutted where it has been used by 4x4 vehicles. Also there is more cloud cover passing over so the temperature has dropped.

When we reach the 'crossroads' we debate briefly whether to go on the path past Stanage House which leads back onto Eyam Moor, but decide against it. We'll stick to this track which runs onto the Sir William Hill Road with only a few steps on the tarmac road to negotiate.

The stroll along the last part of the track is easy and pleasant. We're still getting bursts of sunshine which has taken most of the frost from the surrounding fields and moors although a little still lingers under the shady wall bases.

 

A great walk, possibly more so because we haven't been subjected to the weather Eyam Moor usually throws at us. It is a surprise to get back to the cars dry!

WE'RE BACK AGAIN - AND AROUND ABNEY

It seems almost forever since we were last out walking and the blog only a memory. But PC is back from her seafaring adventures (for a while, anyway) and the summer holidays are behind us so finally we are able to get out, and what a wonderful feeling it is.

Naturally, as soon as we plan our day the prolonged dry spell breaks with heavy overnight rain, but undeterred we soldier on. Our meeting place is a small layby just before the tiny, pretty village of Abney. There's just sufficient room for two cars and it is right next to our starting point; a stone stile and footpath leading uphill and through fields to Smelting Hill.

PC is looking smart in swish new gear - her husband is currently doing the Coast to Coast walk so whilst he was buying equipment for his trek she took advantage and joined in - but she has forgotten her hiking boots so has to borrow a spare pair of mine! Some things never change.

We clamber over the stile and head up the field path to the next one, only to see a family of four goats managing the stiles with a great deal more panache and agility than we are. They bound out of our way as PC remarks that it reminds her of the Sound of Music. Clearly she has been at sea for too long.

After the next stile we have two cumbersome gates to negotiate, and a few ponies who are curious enough to come and look at us, although once they realise that we have nothing for them to eat they wander off.

The last gate takes us onto the distinct grassy path leading over Smelting Hill. It is warm enough to walk without a coat, and there is no rain, but the ground is wet and the sky still dull. But it is so good to be out that we barely acknowledge the weather. We have too much catching up to do.

There are a few pauses to admire the views, and we even have distant views of gliders at Camphill beyond Abney Moor.

It's an easy walk over Smelting Hill, we cross Siney Sitch by the small bridge and continue over Offerton Edge to descend through the bracken towards Offerton Hall. Instead of going through the gate onto the lane at the bottom we turn left on the bridleway and follow the edge of the access land, a wall to our right, the bracken filled moor rising to our left.

The path is slightly undulating then climbs gently up and over a small rise before dropping to the gateway onto the unmade Shatton Lane. Around the gate it is wet, but then again, we have never known it to be dry! We have to wait for a farmer with his Land Rover and open-topped trailer (containing two bemused sheep) to go past before we start the walk up the lane.

It's a steady walk up the lane with few distractions, which is good as we are still catching up with events! Ahead of us is the huge mast which dominates the skyline, and once we have past it we have wonderful views of that other blight on the landscape, the cement works.

Here we pause for a while to watch some para-gliders, five of them slowly circling in the air currents like huge lazy, but very odd, birds.

Further on and we're looking for somewhere to stop for lunch. We go through the gate at the end of the track near Wolf's Pit and hope to be able to sit on the grass and heather at the side of the track, but the air is swarming with midges so we are already setting off along the track towards Abney Moor before there is sufficient breeze to blow them away and allow us to settle down to eat.

We start off with a nip of celebratory Ramblers Restorative followed by coffee - both so much better savoured in the open air on a good walk. Then it is a wrap for me, and a salad for PC. Buns today are home-made Mocha brownies. It's a new recipe I've tried but they taste pretty good; crusty on top and gooey inside. I think I'll be making them again. We finish with another coffee before setting off again. Maybe we have lost the knack of lingering.

The sun is now making an effort to come out, and succeeds extremely quickly. Although there is still some cloud it is no longer dull and dreary, we can see blue sky and feel the temperature rising. It is turning into a glorious day.

We follow this track around to a gate and at the other side to the right we see the extremely narrow tarmac lane which is clearly used by the vehicles belonging to the para-gliders who are now very close. That lane leads back down to Abney but we ignore it and continue ahead along the unmade Brough Lane, pausing at a field to admire some horses. A couple of chestnuts and two mares with foals, one a lovely skewbald.

Walking further we find our next path, a left hand one which runs across Abney Moor. Here there is a long wooden bench, and a stone built one too, both looking very inviting and far more comfortable than where we'd stopped for lunch. If we had known about the benches we'd have waited a while.

We go over the stile onto the moor and follow the single, grassy track that meanders ahead. As we're talking a glider suddenly looms into view, then silently circles and slips away.

It's gentle walking over the moor, and warm too, but this moor is new to us so we're enjoying the newness. At the end of the path two men are sitting on a bench and having a very late lunch break. We pause to exchange a few words, then we're over the stile and onto the road and heading downhill back towards Abney.

A couple of cars pass us, but it isn't terribly busy so it isn't too much of a trial walking down here. There is a stream below us and as we reach the bridge into the village we peer over at it, but sadly it isn't terribly attractive at this point. The village, however, looks lovely especially with the gardens full of late flowering Japanese Anemones.

It's a tiny village so we aren't long before we through the other side and back at the cars. It has been brilliant to be out again, and the excellent weather has only added to the feel-good factor. It's also pretty good to take our boots off! Fingers crossed, we'll be able to get out again in a couple of weeks. Time to start planning.

BAMFORD EDGE AND BACK AGAIN

There had been some early doubts about today's walk. Yesterday had been bitterly cold with a biting wind that had made us wary of venturing onto any high ground, but this morning all was clear, cool and relatively still, so we set off for Bamford Edge feeling optimistic.

We park up in the lay-by on New Road next to the access stile, pleased that no one else is there as there's only room for three, maybe four, cars.

Setting out we encounter our first (and hopefully last) problem. I bound athletically over the stile (only a slight exaggeration, honest) and wait eagerly at the other side for PC. And wait. And wait. The stile is eye-wateringly high and PC, conscious of keeping her bionic hip where it's meant to be, is struggling. However, with a suitable amount of cussing and contortions she heaves herself up and joins me on the far side. And we're off.

It isn't a very steep track up towards the disused quarry almost due north of the stile, but we're aware of the incline and keep using the bionic hip as an excuse to pause and admire theextensive views rapidly unfolding as we climb. The bionic hip, naturally, is fine. It's the lungs that seem to suffering. We're obviously carrying too much weight - in our rucksacks!

The light falling on distant Stanage Edge is wonderful, sculpting the rock face into sharp relief. Fingers crossed that the camera does it justice.

The quarry is quite overgrown now with a boggy morass in the middle, but there is a rough track up the side . I'm sent up first to try it out. If I fall PC won't follow, but hopefully she'll phone for help. As it is, I clamber up easily, it isn't as bad as it looks, and PC follows with ease. Once up there one side does drop away quite dramatically, but my remark about falling into the ravine is not appreciated, so we rapidly ascend to level ground before stopping again.

From here we admire the full length view of Stanage Edge. It's rare to be able to see all of it in one swoop of the eyes, and this is an excellent spot. PC tries out her magic camera skills, hopefully to be followed by magic computer skills, and I'm glad that I don't have to cope with the photos.

Then we skirt the top edge of the quarry and walk along a track following a slightly higher elevation than Bamford Edge itself. Here we're quite exposed and the wind is beginning to make itself felt. We walk along the well-worn track between boulders and the burnt-back heather. We wonder if this has been a controlled burning - it is extensive - or an accident. It's easy to see how moorland fires could quickly spread out of control up here on these barren, windy expanses.

We decide it's time to stop for a drink so we find a big boulder to sit behind out of the wind. Out comes the secret flask and the coffee flask. A couple of measures of Ramblers Restorative does just what is says on the bottle and PC, since she isn't driving, holds her cup out for a top up. Once the Ramblers has taken effect we enjoy a coffee and sit a while enjoying the view and feeling mellow. The buns are brought out for display - they're for lunch - but they prove an incentive to get moving and find somewhere to stop to eat.

A short distance further on we follow a path down onto Bamford Edge.

Whenever we come here we have to stop and stare. The views are spectacular. OK, so the cement works manages to rear it's ugly head - couldn't it be disguised, it really is a major eyesore - but ignoring that we can see a wonderful panorama taking in Abney, Castleton, Mam Tor, Win Hill, the distant Kinder range, and as we proceed along Bamford Edge's wonderfully rocky ridge the views of Ladybower and Derwent Edge open out. We can see the Derwent Dam, the Wheel Stones and Crook Hill, all places we've enjoyed walking, and will revisit again as soon as we can.

We have to keep stopping to enjoy the views. It is a must on this walk and it has to be one of the best places in the Peak District to get an impression of space. Perhaps we should keep it secret, though. It doesn't get as many visitors as it deserves, and it is all the better for that.

The ridge path descends and crosses a tumbled dry stone wall and heads across wilder Bamford Moor, until relatively recently the sole preserve of grouse shooters. The wind is blowing keenly now so we head up onto the moor a little way so we're less exposed. We find a comfortable nook and settle down for lunch. As we eat we see a lone walker trudging along the track towards Bamford Edge. He waves, we wave back, he continues on his way. That is the only encounter we have we another soul all day. It's wonderful up here.

At last the buns emerge. Lemon Muffin Cheesecakes: muffin pieces, creamy tangy cheesecake, white chocolate flakes, biscuity base. Perfect. Thank you Mr Morrison, you've done us proud.

Suitably replenished we set off back, the first part of our return journey retreading the path we've just been on. In the time it's taken us to eat (and drink, and chat) the wind has gathered strength. There is always the chance of strong gusts on this exposed edge, but now those gusts are powerful. We keep well away from the steep drops wherever possible. For some reason the smell of the burnt heather is very strong now although we didn't notice it on the way out. Perhaps the cheesecake has sharpened our senses.

We ignore the path up to higher ground and start the long, steady decline passing an old quarry with an almost-complete millstone abandoned in situ. What a lot of skill wasted, but it is rather a poignant monument. Much better than it being stuck in someone's garden as an ornament.

As we lose height the wind loses its ferocity. Looking back, though, we can see the clouds racing across the clear blue sky. PC quotes a line from a film, I immediately recognise it. Oh, how wonderful to be film buffs! (Actually, it was from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade - not exactly highbrow but a classic in it's own way.)

Crossing the brown, bracken-covered slopes we notice a number of square stakes stuck into the ground, some in lines, others in squares, some seemingly randomly placed. We're curious, but have no idea what they're for. Perhaps on a later walk up here we may reach enlightenment.

It isn't long before we're in sight of the car, with only the stile to negotiate. It's easier this way, fortunately, so there's no opportunity for a humorous photograph. Never mind.

We did well today. Later in the afternoon the wind's strength began to build and by late evening a gale was howling and the rain was beating down. It makes a change for luck to be on our side but we won't complain . We've had brilliant weather. The big question is, how long can our luck hold out?

ABNEY

It's an early start for today's walk as parking is limited. There's only room for a couple of cars and we have to make sure they are ours!

We're in place a good half hour earlier than usual and the day, although bright, is much colder than it looks with an accompanying brisk wind. Rain is forecast for later too. We tog up against the cold and set off cheerful.

It's a long time since we last did this walk across Offerton Moor and Abney Moor so we're looking forward to it.

First of all we have to negotiate a number of stiles, easily done since we choose to go through gates instead which provide their own challenges, and after startling a few long-tailed sheep we're out on the moor following a narrow but distinct path.

It is all much wilder than we remember it, with stark moorland covered with low growing heathers and little else. It must be very barren and bleak here in the winter. However, the 360 degree views are stunning. We pause to admire the scene and take the opportunity to dig out the winter woolly hat! The wind blows with sadistic determination up here. We cross over the oddly named Siney Sitch which trickles lazily today and press on over the flat top of the moor.

Soon we're dropping down and the narrow path becomes slippery as the surface peat has become sodden in the recent rain. Thank goodness for the tall bracken which provides handholds. As we drop the temperature increases and the wind dips. It's off with our layers as we turn left onto the bridlepath which just misses the tiny hamlet of Offerton.

By now we're discussing history, more particularly the Norman Conquest. Just goes to show that we're interested in more than buns.

We cross Old Clough, not much more than a running puddle today, and start the gentle but slow ascent towards the track known as Shatton Lane. We pause to admire and photograph a large hairy caterpillar crawling determinedly across our path, and we wonder what it will turn into, and when.

The walking is easy, if warm, but at least it isn't muddy. Last time we had to pick our way over a quagmire when we reached the gate onto Shatton Lane, but not today. A few puddles make a half-hearted attempt to slow us down, but they fail miserably.

More views open out as we climb up Shatton Lane. We stand a while to point out the landmarks we recognise: Derwent, Bamford Edge, Mam Tor, the Great Ridge, Stanage Edge - miles upon miles of fantastic scenery and most of familiar to our well used boots. Seeing it all on such a wonderful, sunny day just reminds us why we do this, and why we want - no, need - to keep on doing it.

We're interrupted in our musings by a couple of motorcyclists; the lane is 'a route with public access' and although the map shows a fairly clear circuit of these 'routes' in the area, there is a part at the top of this lane which has no vehicular access at all. It doesn't stop the bikers.

We are fast(ish) approaching the monumental mast that stands on the moor and is, sadly, visible for miles. A few steps past the mast and the view beyond it makes even the towering structure of metal and antennae seem beautiful. The ultimate Blot on the Landscape has come into view. Yes, the cement works. It really is an eyesore, and the most hideous structure imaginable. In no way has there been any attempt to make it blend into the landscape. It just sits there, scowling, and alien creature in the wrong place, and just plain ugly.

Trying to ignore the eyesore we press on pass a tiny group of walkers, the first and only ones we see today, and hunt for somewhere to stop for lunch. We've made excellent time again, too good really, so we settle down comfortably, pull on our layers as we're being buffeted by the wind again.

This week the secret flask is opened without problems (phew) so after a warming toast we settle down to eat. Buns today are apple and cinnamon muffins, substantial and healthy (because of the apple!) and they are washed down with flavoured coffee.

Because we've made such good time we sit and talk until we see the predicted grey clouds looming, so we pick up our rucksacks and set off. The track follows the line of grey stone walls behind which are paddocks for numerous horses then veer onto the moor again. It's an easy stroll now and a few spots of rain fall, but not enough to make us even damp. By the time we're back at the cars the sun is shining and we're all fired up for next week.