Cressbrookdale

The day before our walk had been glorious, full of the promise of spring. Unfortunately by the time we met up the weather had become rather drear. Moreover the toilets at Monsal Head were still closed.

Still, plenty to see on this walk.

And plenty of water.

Actually, rather a lot of water.

Gushing through the dry stone wall.

Peter's Stone (or Rock) standing tall over the valley. It's actually a landslip from the hill behind, it must have slowly descended to be able to keep its form.

Looking down at the sodden valley.

Magnificent geology.

A bridge definitely helps!

Looking up the dry valley heading towards Litton.

AN ALTERNATIVE CIRCUIT OF CRESSBROOK AND TANSLEY DALES

It's one of those beautiful spring mornings with sunshine and a clear sky. It's chilly, but great to be out. We are parked at one of our 'good' spots in a small parking bay next to the River Wye down from Monsal Head. Up there it is busy, but down here there's only one other car. There's enough to see already before we even get going. The daffodils are flowering and the views across the river are lovely.

We head, as usual, along the road towards the old mill which is now converted into an apartment complex. Here we veer right and start the steady climb up the road. It certainly starts to make us feel a bit warm, and PC pauses to remove a layer.

At the top of the lane where it hairpins we continue ahead on the rough track. Normally we would continue ahead through the gate, but this time we choose the steeply sloping right hand path up through the woods. It doesn't take us long to wonder if we've done the right thing.

Mollie may be finding the steep steps great fun, but for those of us with less bounce, they're a bit of a trial. PC removes another layer!

However, when we get to the top of the woods we are rewarded for our efforts. The fields are lush and green.

The views across to the cliffs over Ravensdale cottages are superb.

We skirt the wall and find our stile through, then we have a number of fields to cross. From the first we can see to Cressbrook dale, but I'm not in a mood to linger. There had been cows in these fields before and I want to get moving!

Fortunately, it's too early for them to be out yet, so we make it safely across this and the next few fields too before joining the track on the edge of Litton village. We walk along until we find our next path which leads us across more fields to the head of Tansley Dale.

Lunch beckons, but despite the sun it is rather chilly and we could do with some shelter. Ahead of us two ladies vacate what looks to be a perfect spot tucked under an outcrop, so we take their places.

We settle down with our sandwiches, coffee and buns, and a small warmer from the secret flask. That will need topping up soon.

With lunch over we walk down the valley to where it joins Cressbrook Dale, and we see the water. Yes, we've had a fair amount of rain recently but we hadn't quite expected there to be so much water. It's usually bone dry here, and we've only once seen it so inundated, and that was from the far end - and we hadn't been able to get through. We hope it doesn't block our way back.

The spread of water is quite extensive and we keep high up to avoid paddling.

There are ponds that look permanent, even though we know they aren't.

We head through the woods accompanied by the soothing sound of running water. The sunlight on the mossy green stones under the water is particularly stunning.

By the time we reach the narrow wooden footbridge there is quite a torrent, but at least it isn't flooded. But at the other side it is a quagmire. The farmer has clearly kept cattle on here through the bad weather, and they make full use of the footpath to access the water and shelter. Walking is really hard, and a couple of people go past us at a less cautious speed only for the man to slip down a few places in front. He gets up swiftly enough with seemingly little the worse for wear, other than muddy clothes and battered dignity.

We proceed with more caution and reach the safety of a solid track without mishap. From here we only need to walk up to join the lane at the hairpin bends then walk back along the road to the cars. It has been an excellent walk.

SEASON OF MISTS AND MELLOW FRUITFULNESS

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.

SPRING IN CRESSBROOK DALE

PC is off sailing the seven seas with her husband, so for now it's just me and my camera.

Out again, but not on my own this week as Husband has a day off work and is joining me. We don't get out walking anything like as much as we would wish so he's jumped at the opportunity. At least the weather looks to stay fine and we even have some sunshine.

We park the car in the small parking area at the side of the River Wye at Upperdale. We're the only ones here as we're quite early. We pull on our boots then hoist our rucksacks on to our backs (why is mine heavier?) in near silence - no catching up to do and we ran out of sparkling conversation on the journey! Such is married life.

This first part of the walk is on the road, heading towards the imposing facade of Cressbrook Mill, but before we reach it we spot a duck on the river looking extremely exotic in temperate Derbyshire.

This proves to be a talking point as we can't quite decide what it is. (Turns out it is a male Mandarin Duck.) Once the duck has refused to stop to have its photograph taken we move on, and in a nearby field we see some interesting sheep. These, fortunately, are more obliging. My first thought is that they are Hebridean sheep. Why? No idea, but on checking various websites on returning home I'm pretty confident - although if I am wrong please feel free to let me know as I'm no livestock expert.

Ahead is the old mill, now converted into smart living accommodation, and it is the first time Husband has seen it in many years. I tend to forget how infrequently he gets out into the walking heart of Derbyshire despite travelling all over the country for his job.

We take the lane to the right of the mill and begin the steady ascent. We pass a lady with a very old dog, but other than that we see no one else. The birdsong is clear and we can enjoy the fresh green leaves bursting into bud. On the banks at either side of the road there are wood anemones in bloom, sprinklings of white like mini snowdrifts. As we reach the top of our climb and take the footpath towards the Dale we encounter more flowers growing beneath the straight trunks of thin woodland with the sun lighting the path ahead, a typical English spring scene.

It's a straight and fairly level path to a narrow gate and I'm relieved that there are no cows here (there had been in the past when I'd been with PC). However, at the other side of the gate the ground is churned up, a sure sign that cattle are, or have been, in the vicinity. I keep a wary eye open but as we walk into a more open field I can breathe a sigh of relief. No cows. But there is a lovely view over the trees to the distant Cressbrook Dale.

 

 

In the woods at the side, though, there is the most glorious carpet of anemones turning the whole woodland floor white.

 

 



 

 

It's a fairly steep descent here, dreadful when it's slippery, but no problem today. At the bottom is a narrow gated bridge over the dried up stream bed. It's hard to remember that on our last visit the bridge was close to being submerged.

 

The walk along the path in this wooded part of Cressbrook Dale is always very lovely. Birds are very active (we even hear an owl - it must have trouble sleeping) and the ground is carpeted with flowers, mainly anemones but there are bright yellow celandines too. We are following the dried riverbed which looks strangely sinister and primeval.

 

 

 

We continue through the woods until they give way to the wider, open spaces of the limestone dale. Immediately the search is on for the orchids which thrive here, but sadly it seems we are too early - or the weather has been too unkind - because they aren't flowering yet. I do find one eventually and

once I've seen one it is easy to spot dozens, but as yet they are just clusters of leaves with promising buds.

 

The Dale widens out with the sometimes-stream completely dry missing from the bottom. Ahead is a new bridge, replacing the stepping stones over the non-extent water and leading up Tansley Dale. Here we pause for a nip from the secret flask (yes, Husband knows all about it) and I take a scenic photo of said flask on top of the bridge with the Dale in the background, just for PC.

 

 

We continue up the Dale and into the breeze. It isn't too bad, but it is noticeable. The Dale dog-legs and soon we are approaching Peter's Stone, a monumental limestone dome where there was once a gibbet (see an earlier post). We walk up towards the stone then climb to the prominent outcrop beneath it where we can sit and enjoy the wide ranging view up the dale and down past Wardlow Mires towards Foolow.

 

 

After a while we take the path towards Wardlow Mires until we are in the Dale bottom again then turn back. From here there are splendid views of Peter's Stone, though it is a wonder that a gibbet could have been erected here.

 

 

We head off back down the Dale and find a suitable hollow of ground in which to sit for lunch and shelter from the ever present wind. The coffee is very good, and I initiate Husband into the ritual of the buns. Today we have Toffee Pecan Danish Swirls - very sticky but very satisfying.

 

It is tempting to lay back and snooze. Out of the wind it is quite mild but the sun has gone in and the clouds seem to be gathering, so we gather our gear and retreat.

 

We watch some Pied Wagtails bobbing about in the short grass and on the drystone walls before going through the gate into wooded area. Here there is a steep sided clearing with cowslips which we hadn't noticed on our outward walk. I pause to take a picture before we continue.

When we eventually cross the bridge over the dry stream we turn left and follow the course of the stream toward Ravensdale Cottages. Just before the cottages the stream reappears from underground and we can see it bubbling up from beneath some rocks, but beyond the cottages it has disappeared again!

 

Behind the cottages are the cliffs of Ravensdale and there is a notice saying that climbing is not allowed this year as ravens have actually nested on the crags for the first time in many years. Despite using our binoculars we couldn't see them, but it is excellent news, and we hope that climbers don't try to disturb the birds.

 

From here it is a short walk up the long driveway to rejoin the road, and then we are on the downhill stretch to Upperdale and the car. It has been an excellent walk, Husband has thoroughly enjoyed it and so have I - although there has been less conversation than usual! Next time I'll be out on my own again, though.

 

ASHFORD IN THE WATER, DEEP DALE, SHELDON

Having missed a week's walking desperation has me turning up at Ashford in the Water's tiny car park ridiculously early. It is foggy and I have a long wait. An uncharged camera and milk boiling over conspires to make PC late. Ah well, by the time she arrives the weather is picking up a little and we can at least see where we're walking to.

We set off through the village and over the picturesque medieval Sheepwash Bridge which spans the River Wye, pausing long enough to take a photo (I had brought a camera though wasn't quite sure how to work it) and admire the ducks braving the cold water.We cross the main A6 and walk along it for a short distance before turning off onto the road leading to Sheldon, although we are soon taking a footpath to our right which follows the winding river.

By now our initial giddiness at being out has passed and our talk has turned to more serious things. Radley handbags. Women will understand, men undoubtedly won't.

The level path isn't as muddy as we had expected as we pass Little Shacklow Wood on our left and head towards the derelict water powered bobbin mills. Here bobbins were made from the local ash woods to be used in the cotton making industry, such as at nearby Litton and Cressbrook Mills.

Today a group of anglers are parked outside the mills preparing for a day on the river, so we walk on by without pausing and take the broad track that runs behind the buildings, admiring the rusted waterwheels and old stonework.

We have now entered Great Shacklow Wood and are hoping to enjoy the autumn colours as the sun is now breaking through. Before the path begins to climb we come across a large pond playing host to numerous water birds. This pond is the collection point for Magpie Sough, the drainage tunnel from Magpie Mine high up on the hills behind us beyond Sheldon. Although blocked in the 1960s it has since been cleared to run freely again.

From here the path begins to climb, quite steeply in places, and it's time for us to pause to admire the golden trees - and remove a layer or two. Time also to test the contents of the secret flask. Yes, all in order.


The flask obviously helps as we reach the top of the path sooner than anticipated before dropping down to the head of Deep Dale where there is evidence (although we didn't see it) of a settlement and cave shelter. There is also evidence (clearly visible) of cows. Lots of them. But since they aren't to be seen I concentrate instead on the views - excellent behind us over the River Wye towards the Fin Cop settlement on the far hill, and closer to the stark white limestone amongst the green and brown vegetation. The path is dry but rough underfoot as cloven hooves have dug up rocks and pebbles. At times this supposedly dry valley can be a quagmire but despite recent rains it isn't bad today. But it is warm now, so we remove yet another layer. As we press on PC suddenly instructs me to 'Keep Walking'. Naturally, I stop and looking around see a herd of cows on the slope directly above us. Resisting the urge to scream and run I remain calm and, with PC uttering soothing words to me all the time, we press on only a little faster than usual.

Danger passed we spy a large clump of blackthorn with fat juicy sloes still on the branches. It hasn't been a good year for sloes so this is an opportunity not to be missed. We down rucksacks, rummage for something to put the sloes in, and start picking. It's very therapeutic - despite the vicious thorns - and brings out the self-sufficient peasant in us. It doesn't take too long to gather enough to make a bottle of sloe gin each, and PC decides to have a go at making some herself. We'll taste and compare when they're ready - all in the interests of serious study, naturally.

It's turned cooler again but we're buoyed up by the thoughts of the gin - and of the raspberry gin, raspberry vodka, gooseberry gin, and mixed berry vodka all underway at home, plus the gallons of cider and Ramblers' Restorative (the contents of the secret flask) already made. We start making up names for them all, until we see more cows ahead. What is it with this walk and cows?

This time I'm not feeling so brave so I manage, with agility borne of desperation, to climb over a wall and squeeze under a wire fence to avoid them. Seeing my gymnastics PC decides the cows are less of a threat and walks right past them. They don't bat an eyelid but I know that they would have charged us and stampeded if I'd been there.After our adventures we're feeling hungry so find a hollow of ground and settle down for lunch. We have to pull on coats and jumpers as the sun has gone and it has turned chilly. Heavy salads are followed by welcome coffee and the buns. Today's offering: Lemon Muffin Cheesecakes. Mr Morrison has done us proud. They are sooo good. Biscuity base, fluffy cheesecake with lemony centre topped by muffin pieces. Bliss.

Feeling extremely full, but cold, we press on through a close-cropped field of sheep to the gate which leads onto the unmade Wheal Lane. There are cows (again!) in the field to the side of us, but they're behind a stone wall so pose no threat. At the top of the track we emerge onto Flagg Lane, a minor road which runs between Moneyash and Buxton. Here we debate what to do next. We can follow the road then turn left into Sheldon, or we can cut off the corner and go through fields. The road is the least appealing option, but the potential for a bovine ambush in the fields cannot be ruled out. Finally we decide to go the field route, with PC volunteering to be the cattle wrangler if necessary. I, of course, will be sprinting in the opposite direction!

There are cows in the first field, far enough away not to be a problem, but we cross at high speed anyway and squeeze through a tight crush-stile. We're both pleased to be able to get through so easily - shows how slim we are. The next few fields are fine and we're becoming blase, despite the increasingly dodgy stiles we have to negotiate. Then, with only two fields to go we see them. Cows. Hundreds of them. All across our route.

After some dithering we set off across the first field. These cows are only young, curious and a little afraid. I'm over the stile in record time but the next field is more problematic. It's full of friesians, all in the bottom half, next to the road and our escape route. Across the field is an electric fence. If it is switched on we'll not be able to get through anyway, and the thought of walking all the way back is even more daunting (at the moment) than the prospect of walking though cows.

We approach the fence cautiously. It doesn't appear to be connected. PC risks electrocution by tapping it with her stick. No, she's still alive so we limbo underneath the wire (honestly) and face the cows. Some of them are looking at us and others wander onto our path.

Decisive action is required which involves walking at speed with PC between me and the beasts, head down and trying not to see them. As we approach the gate the cows are milling around but I've spotted a gap and am sprinting for the stile before PC even knows I've gone. onto Johnson Lane taking out the camera before PC is over the stile. Photographic evidence is essential.

With the cows now behind us we walk up the lane into Sheldon as the sun shines on us again. A good omen.

There are a number of cars parked on what appears to be the village green,a group of walkers, and we wonder what the villagers think of having their space commandeered in such a thoughtless manner.Then we see them. More cows, this time being herded up the main street. I don't believe it! I take refuge behind a bench as PC stands suicidally in the middle of the road to take a picture

Once the cows have passed we walk though Sheldon, a pretty unspoilt village. It still seems to be a predominantly farming community although there are some lovely cottages and it was once home to miners working at the nearby Magpie Mine. There is an interesting looking pub, the Cock and Pullet, which has been marked down for a future visit.

As we walk we discuss the possibilities of alcoholic jams and marmalades, debating which liqueur will go best with which fruit. Experiments are in order.

The road drops down and we round the bend before taking the path off to the left which runs along a grassy, sloping field with the woods ahead of us. With the afternoon sun shining the leaves on the trees in Little Shacklow Wood seem to be glowing. This is early autumn in all its glory. We skirt the edge of the wood and as we do the vista opens up ahead of us so that we can see a huge distance.

We leave the wood and start to descend steeply across open ground towards the River Wye. It's hard on the knees but soon we're at the bottom and able to retrace our steps to Ashford. With the sun shining we pause for more photos at the bridge, then it's a quick walk back to the car park and the end to another very satisfying day - apart, of course, for the cows.