Happy New Year 2018

We start a New Year with a visit to an old friend. Yes, back to Derwent to try to ease away a few of the accumulated pounds that Christmas brings. We neither are feeling terribly active, so plump for a familiar walk that will take little effort, mentally or physically. But we will do it in reverse, for a smidge more interest.

Our usual car parking spot is still thankfully free of parking meters, but we wonder how long for as they seem to be creeping alongside the reservoirs at a rate of knots. No doubt by summer there will be no free parking at all.

It's pleasantly mild (ish) for the time of year and there are quite a few people about considering it is mid week. Still, we set off with high hopes and a spring in our step. It is so good to be out.

The dam is overflowing - not too much but enough to make it look rather attractive rather than scary. And it is scary when the water comes thundering over in a white wall of sheer energy and power.

We take the steep path up the side and emerge onto the track, which we follow and give Mollie the chance to be off the lead for a while.

As usual, it is quieter at this side of the reservoirs with all the people clustering around Fairholmes. We carry on until we find the steep path up to our right - did I say we were taking it easy today?

Quite muddy at the bottom, and climbing rapidly it is a bit of a pull (and a paddle with the overflowing stream) but we are getting lovely views behind us.

It is worth pausing to look back from time to time, for the views and to have a breather. Too much Christmas pud! The distant clouds look quite ominous though.

We reach the 4-way footpath sign and turn right. It's relatively level now - we are quite high up, and as we cross the moor we are alone. This, we remind ourselves, is what it is all about.

Over the stile at the top and we start looking for our lunch spot. It's fairly bleak up here, but there is a stone wall and after a bit of scouting we find a couple of large flat stones and, with our backs to the wall and our faces to the view, we settle down for lunch.

Plans of dieting are thrown to the four winds when PC produces two homemade apple turnovers (made by her daughter) and they are superb. Mollie is hopeful, but unsuccessful. She must satisfy herself with dog biscuits!

It is quite chilly sat here, despite our wind shelter, so as soon as we have finished eating we move on.

It is flat and a little boggy here, and we meet the only two other walkers this high up, two similarly aged women. Great minds, and all that.

The views range as far as Lost Lad and Mam Tor in a 180 degree sweep, and for a brief spell the sun comes out.

The moors are lit up looking golden and inviting, but the photos don't show how cold it has actually become.

The descent down towards the reservoirs gives us more good views.

But once we get close to the trees the views disappear and we are on a slightly muddy track making our way to the narrow road around the side of Ladybower.

By the time we reach the bottom the winter sun is already dropping rapidly, the clouds are amassing and the temperature is starting to fall. We have, however, managed to have a dry and extremely good first walk of the New Year.

ABOVE DERWENT

Yes! We've made it. Another walk out. However, I've forgotten the map and my camera. Well, you can't have everything.

Today's plan was very last minute, so much so that we have decided where to meet, but not where to walk. So as we stand in the Fairholmes car park in the perishing cold we quickly make a plan. Since we are without a map it does mean doing something we are familiar with, so we move the cars up to the side of the Dam (no parking fees) and get ready.

The cold is biting, the temperature gauge has struggled to keep above freezing, and we are pulling on a multitude of layers. We're keen to get going, if only to warm up.

We walk down the staggered steps that lead to the road that passes in front of the dam wall. Crossing the grassy area towards the steps at the far side, Mollie is allowed to run off some of her energy.

Once up the steps at the far side of the dam wall we put Mollie back on the lead as we go along the path and through the gate onto the rough road. You don't see much traffic on here, but there are usually quite a few walkers and cyclists. Today, though, there are very few people about and we seem to have this whole side of the reservoir to ourselves.

When we reach a bench we turn right onto footpath which climbs up at the side of a stream, and up Walkers Clough. It's quite muddy in places, churned up especially by mountain bikes which aren't even supposed to use this Public Footpath. Through the gate at the top we pause for Mollie to have a drink at the fast flowing stream, then we press on uphill.

It is quite tricky walking up here. Normally we come downhill, which is really grim, but the problem with the uphill is more from the mud underfoot which is very slippery rather than the steep incline. There is a stream running down, which isn't helping, and Mollie is constantly 'rescuing' stones to throw at my feet.

At a bend in the path the soggy section stops and we are able to press on dry foot. Pausing to admire the views behind us is compulsory and today they are spectacular with the clean, clear late autumn light. How I wish I had remembered my camera, but it is a good job PC has hers.

We meet two walkers coming carefully downhill, steadying themselves with their walking poles. They will certainly need them further down the slope. The path has a sprinkling of white on it, tucked into the shadows where the sun can't reach. It could be the result of a heavy frost, but it does look suspiciously like snow.

One final pull and we reach the signpost close to the derelict Bamford House, then after another pause to admire the views we turn right. The path is level and relatively straight, but with a gentle incline. It is very fresh up here, but the sun makes it feel a little less cold.

We walk until we cross over a stile, from where we have wonderful all-round views. Derwent Edge looks particularly spectacular in the light.


By now we are ready for lunch (we did set off late) but not far from the stile we find a deep hollow which is a perfect spot out of the wind. We settle down and I fetch out a mini bottle of wine. Today is PC's pre-birthday walk and we need to celebrate in a suitable manner. After all, she'll be a year older on our next walk.

The wine makes a lovely starter, then we eat our sandwiches, enjoy a KitKat chunky (so much better than the ordinary ones) and the buns. Today they are crumble topped pies, one apple and one rhubarb. And for a change they are completely filled with fruit, not like the pies that seem to be pumped up with air! After all that, and two cups of coffee, we are feeling very mellow.

Sadly, we can't sit here forever, as tempting as that seems, so we set off. As soon as we are out of the hollow the cold air hits us again, it is surprising how sheltered we were. The path here is very broad, and springy underfoot, and in places it is very boggy though it is easy enough to skirt the muddy bits.

The path curves and follows the line of a partially broken dry stone wall which looks very stark with the afternoon sun emphasising the shadows and shape. Very quickly we reach the end of the moorland path, cross over a stile and start to descend. We look down into Dovestone Clough and can follow the line of Mill Brook.

We drop down Briery Side, past Lanehead and down the steep hollow track to Wellhead and the tarmac road on the east side of Ladybower.

It is really cold down here; completely in shadow it feels as though this road has not felt the sun all day. We walk briskly to keep warm.

Just past Jubilee Cottages we turn into the woods where, we know, there is a small nature trail. We discover that we have entered the woods a bit too early and have to negotiate a couple of very steep banks but we land safely without falling then follow the path through the woods pausing to admire some of the wooden sculptures.

We come out of the woods on the road to Fairholmes and only have the steep steps back up to the cars to negotiate. At the top we find that this side of the reservoir is in shadow too, and the tops of the cars have frost forming on them.

It has been a superb day, despite the cold, and as we drive home along the road at the side of the reservoir the sun continues to paint the ridges and edges in brilliant russet hues. Magical.

HOWDEN AND DERWENT CIRCUIT

We had a plan. A good one. Then we heard the weather forecast, and the pelting rain hammering on the windows overnight, so we had a rapid re-think and the plan changed. Instead of exploring the heights of Kinder Scout we opted for a safer option - meet at the side of Ladybower and see if inspiration strikes.

It's no longer raining when we pull up in our usual car park so we're feeling hopeful. The bluebells aren't out yet (PC has a thing about walking through the bluebells) so the suggestion of doing a complete circuit of Howden and Derwent reservoirs is accepted as a good alternative to Kinder.

As we get ready Mollie decides to decamp and visit a group of walkers getting ready at the other end of the car park. Endless calls and shouts fail to bring her back so PC has to go and fetch her and although Mollie looks sheepish she is clearly unrepentant.

Finally we're ready, after a brief debate as to whether we need the umbrella today. It was such a success on the last walk that I'm persuaded to take it (rain forecast, apparently, for lunch time so we'll need the shelter) so it's fixed onto the back of my increasingly heavy rucksack. I really must empty it out sometime.

First stop is Fairholmes and we're already surprised at how many walkers and cyclists are out today. Either the poor weather hasn't deterred them or they were all planning different walks but have made the same decision as us to avoid potential problems.

Leaving Fairholmes we've decided to walk the route anti-clockwise so we make our way down towards Derwent Dam. Even from a distance we can see the foamy, white wall of water completely blanketing the dam. Wow! It's a long time since we've seen this amount of water coming over the top, and it's a sign of how much rain we've had that the reservoirs are full to brimming. Closer to the wall we can even feel the spray coming off it. Impressive, and just a bit scary too.

The steep steps at the side of the dam are familiar but no less unwelcome but we're soon at the top and on the level roadway skirting the side of the reservoir. Now it's easy walking and a familiar outlook which means we can spend our time constructively - talking about everything from Art to University.



By the time we reach Abbey Tip Plantation we've lost all the foot traffic (we will only see one more walker on this side) and only have to contend with the few cyclists who circuit the reservoirs. And here we have a swathe of late daffodils, all a bit knocked and battered from the recent heavy rain but they are a lovely, cheerful sight. The daffodils have just about ended everywhere else so these are a treat.


We cross the bridge where the Abbey Brook flows into the reservoir. It's running very fast today but the banks of gloomy rhododendrons don't make it a good photo opportunity.


 Around the next corner and we're in sight of Howden Dam, and close enough to hear the thunderous rumbling of water pouring over the edge. Yes, Howden is full to bursting and its dam wall is, like Derwent's, a solid sheet of white. We choose not to take the small side path which leads to the base of the wall instead keeping on our planned route.

We're under a sparse canopy of trees here, insufficient to shelter us from the fast approaching rain that we can see coming from the direction of Alport and Bleaklow, blocking the view with a grey mist. Luckily, though, the brolly doesn't have to come out as the shower is short-lived and hardly makes us damp. It looks as if this will be the order of the day from now on - brief showers and an overcast sky.

We round the corner at the base of Howden Clough (the water here looks particularly grim; scummy with debris floating on it) to take the slight incline before the level returns as we walk past Ronksley Wood and out into the open at Cold Side. Here we can see the River Derwent rushing down to the reservoirs, and spring lambs running around the hillsides with their mothers, managing to look unbelievably cute.



 
The Slippery Stones Bridge is in sight now (it takes its name from the large slabs of stone that were the only means of crossing the Derwent in the past. The bridge dates from the 17th century and was classified as an ancient monument so when the valley was flooded the bridge was dismantled, stored and rebuilt here in 1959) so we hasten down to it, cross over - admiring the fast flowing river as we do - then settle down on the western bank of the river for lunch.

First its a nip from the secret flask. We don't need it to warm us up, but we do deserve a treat! (Mollie isn't forgotten, she has her biscuits.) Then it's a cup of coffee followed by sandwiches and the bun - very light doughnuts with fresh cream and oozing jam, all patriotically wrapped in a Union Jack box! Excellent - could have eaten more than one though. After a second coffee - and a very light shower of rain - we pick up our rucksacks again. How come mine doesn't feel any lighter?

This is such a familiar section of the walk for us, but this time we haven't even made the halfway point of the walk whereas we're usually on the way back to the cars by now. Naturally there are more people about now even though the clouds seem to be gathering.

We cross over the broad bridge at the base of Linch Clough noting that the water is very high, then it's up to the gate onto the long, narrow road skirting the west of the reservoirs. There are a few cars parked here, not many, and most of the drivers and passengers are sat inside rather than getting out and enjoying the fresh air while they can.

The road is long and winding which makes this side of the reservoirs much longer than the east. Added to the distance is the number of cars driving up today, we don't think we've ever seen so many on one day, and since they aren't walkers they go to as far as the end of the road, maybe park up for a while, then drive back so we have to avoid them twice. Some are very courteous but others don't seem to notice us and drive past fast (and we are very noticeable). To add to the problems the rain has decided to make a more determined effort. It isn't prolonged but the showers are heavier and longer. Still not bad enough to use the brolly (it will stay in the car next time) but we've donned waterproof coats and hoods.

We pass  a clump of gorse bushes in full, yellow bloom and stop for a sniff. It was only back at Easter that I realised that the flowers had a wonderful coconut scent - so I shared this we PC and we stand sniffing as a couple of cars passed us giving us strange looks.





When we reach the eastern side of Howden Dam we can see the spray from the edge being blow upwards and backwards - it would be easy to imagine a whale 'blowing'. It takes a while for PC to get a good shot of it, and when we drop down to the house at the side of the dam (Beavers Croft, a holiday cottage) she takes some more pictures across the lovely gardens to the dam.

The high rainfall we've had recently is very evident from here onwards. Water pouring off the hillside is reaching the tarmac road and running in rivers along its length. Sometimes it manages to cross over where it rushes down to the reservoir, but in other places it pools into mini fords. Sporadic rainfall is adding to it.

We press on, pass the remains of Tin Town (constructed for workers building the dams then demolished afterwards) which are easy to miss, especially if you are in a car. Then it's the final haul along to Derwent again. We're tiring, the hard, solid surface of the walk is beginning to take its toll, and Mollie is seriously muddy. Glad she won't be in my car.

There are quite a few people parked at the top of Derwent Dam admiring the cascading water, but we can ignore it now as we detour down to Fairholmes for a pre-journey-home stop. It's tempting to sit on the benches, but they're wet and getting up again could be a problem anyway.

Strange how the last few hundred yards to the cars is the hardest of the lot! However, we make it and gladly remove rucksacks and walking gear. It's been a long haul today (one source says 16.7 km) and we're out of condition having missed a few walks these past weeks. Next week is going to be a miss, too, and our schedule will be erratic for a while. Exam season is on us - GCSEs and A levels - so we'll have to squeeze our walks in when we can.






We've managed to miss the worst of the weather, but only just. On the way home I drive through some torrential rain storms and consider how lucky we've been!

AROUND THE RESERVOIRS

A CIRCUIT OF HOWDEN AND DERWENT

We're back after the enforced absence caused by school holidays and we've got a good one planned. Or rather, we'd planned a different good one, but you know what they say about the best laid plans...

Our original intention had been to go up onto Howden Edge - a long and pretty tough walk given the time constraints and our fitness (lack of) levels. However we'd decided we were up to it, until the torrential rain of the two previous days and nights planted the seeds of doubt and watered them thoroughly.

We meet up at the Fairholmes Car Park under glorious blue skies, avail ourselves of their excellent facilities, then return to our cars for the long winding drive along the western side of the reservoirs (this road is not open all the time although there is a bus service for walkers when the road is closed to traffic). On the way something becomes very evident. We have hit upon the perfect time to observe the most glorious autumn colour, something we hadn't expected to experience this year. So when we finally reach the end of the road (literally) and park up we decide on a change which will enable us to make the most of the sunshine and trees. We'll walk around the reserviours.

Naturally, being seasoned hikers we load everything into our rucksacks, just in case the weather changes or we get lost and have to camp out for a week. PC chooses the direction - clockwise - to make the most of the way the light is illuminating the trees.

We follow the bridleway, broad and easy walking, to the Stepping Stones bridge, and whilst PC stops to take some photos we realise that the sun has disappeared. Undeterred by this minor hitch we decide that it makes no difference, and it might clear up later, so we cross the bridge and continue on the bridleway which doubles back and climbs slightly up onto Cold Side (marked 'cycle route'). Below us the fledgling River Derwent is starting to broaden out, and the contrast between the dark green conifers, golden leafed beech, yellow birch and russet moors is stunning. It's a shame that the sun has gone, but the scenery is no less spectacular for it.

A few cyclists pass us, but there are never very many walkers on this part of the circuit - it's a long way from Fairholmes on foot and most people who drive up the valley as we have done tend to pause for long enough to admire the view only before heading back. So we're finding it extremely peaceful as we catch up on news and discuss everything from school awards to medical students.

We pause frequently to watch the changing scenery and colours, as well as take photos. We pass the path that leads up to Howden Clough, which would have been our downward route had we gone onto Howden Edge, and when we reach the stretch of woods known as The Coppice it's time to remove a layer. And naturally, since the rucksack has to be taken off, I delve for the Secret Flask and we treat ourselves to a swig of Ramblers' Restorative. Oh yes, that is so right, like a burst of sunshine in the stomach radiating out to all points and vying with the copper and golden leaves for brightness!

Suitably restored we trek on ignoring the light shower of rain that does absolutely nothing to dampen our spirits. It only lasts a few minutes and by the time we reach Howden Dam it has stopped. Here we meet the first of the walkers up from Fairholmes who are already turning back. It's funny to think that this is as far as we made it a few months back when PC was getting started after her hip operation. We're certainly doing a lot more today!

As we round the inlet where Abbey Brook joins Derwent we realise how low the reservoir is. There are huge swathes of greenery on the muddy ground which should, at this time of year, be underwater. This newly reclaimed land stretches almost all the way across the valley with only a thin river of water (and the mud) separating the two sides. It will take a lot of rain to re-submerge this area.

We're halfway down the length of the Derwent Reservoir on the eastern side and we're beginning to feel heavy legged and tired. There's no way we can stop to eat yet, we aren't even half way around, and we are wondering if we're tackling a bit too much for our first outing in 3 weeks, but we remain stoically silent about our discomforts (we'll only admit it later) as there's absolutely nothing we can do about it other than turn around or press on. We choose to press on, distracting ourselves with 'what we did on our holidays' which, for PC, seems to have involved a lot of water!

The rain makes a few more attempts to get going but it hasn't really managed very much and we soon reach the steps leading down at the side of the Derwent Dam. We've been here with the water gushing over the top but today the stones are dry. It will be some time before the water levels are high enough to produce the spectacular waterfall.

Once across the grassy field at the base of the dam wall we turn sharp right and up the steep, stepped path to reach the western road. It makes us puff a bit, but the good thing is that we have managed to push our way through the 'walkers wall' and no longer feel as though we're on our last legs. Good job too. Although we've past the turning point of the walk and are on the way back, we aren't yet half way around as the western road is considerably longer than the eastern track.

At the side of the dam wall there are relatively new information boards about the dam busters and mention of the Derwent Dam museum. We've never heard of it - but a quick trawl on the internet reveals that it is situated in the west tower of the Derwent Dam (yes, I know, we were stood right next to it) but it is only open on Sundays and on Bank Holidays, 10am - 4pm. Admission is free, although they welcome donations and they have an interesting web site (http://www.derwentdammuseum/).

There are a few more cars driving along the road now than earlier, so we have to be careful until we pass Gores Farm where there is a wide verge to walk on. We haven't walked far before the rain starts again, and this time it seems to be more determined, so we pause to drag on our waterproof coats. As soon as we're togged up and walking again it stops. Typical. But we decide not to bother removing our waterproofs because we've seen something interesting. A bench which beckons two very hungry hikers. (Us.)

Yes, we've sat here before, and enjoyed the same view - give or take some sunshine, tree colour, fungi etc - but today it seems especially welcome. First it's coffee, then sandwiches, then the buns. Oh, how we've waited for the buns. Today they are especially low calorie (honest) cream doughnuts. Plenty of jam in the bottom, and a convenient shape for eating. They go down extremely well, and very quickly. A second cup of coffee follows then we're packing up ready to go. No time to linger today. We still have a long way to walk, and if we sit for too long we're likely to sieze up!

We have cars coming at us both ways now, those intent on reaching the end to take a photo, and those that have taken their photos and are on the return. But there aren't too many of them. The rain is making more of an effort to keep going and although we're having drizzle then dry, it isn't they type of weather to encourage people to come out for a drive.

We turn the corner near Birchinlee and have a straight run towards Howden Dam. Here the trees are particularly spectacular, and PC stops to take lots of photos of their sweeping black braches laden with glinting golden leaves like pirate treasure.

It's a short haul up a slope at the side of the Howden Dam, then it's the long road along the narrow valley that ultimately leads to Westend Moor (although the road doesn't go that far). The worst thing about it is that we know we have to walk up the full length at the other side too. And it's raining again. Really raining. That doesn't stop us pausing to admire the cathedral arches of beech trees above the road at Hern Side, a marvellous sight despite the rain.

This is a long haul, especially now the rain has set in. The sky is dark and it feels like dusk rather than the middle of the afternoon. There are no cyclists, no cars and we passed the last walkers a while back. We're certainly on our own.

At the bottom of the road we cross the narrow stone bridge and double back on the opposite side of the valley. We know it isn't too far to go now and despite everything we manage to push the pace a little. When we round the point between Ridge Wood and Nether Wood Plantation we know that the end isn't too far away. It's a straight, easy stretch and our two lonely cars have never looked so welcoming.

Yes, it's been a long tiring walk. We're pretty much soaked and our feet ache, and we'll probably not be able to move like normal human beings in the morning. But we both have that silly smile on our faces that confirms that it's been a wonderful day's walking, with autumn colour that we'd have been daft to miss. Will we do it again? Definitely - but not until we've had a while to recover.

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?

DERWENT

Our walk today on the side of Derwent has a specific purpose. Paparazzi Cate's father-in-law, Grandad John, passed away last week. He joined us on this walk a little over two years ago on a day as clear and sunny, but not so cold, as this. We strolled along at a gentle pace enjoying the walk, the views and the conversation. It was the only time I ever met him, but my lasting impression was that he was a gentleman. We walk this way today in his memory.

* * * * *

With immense good fortune, which we never take for granted, the day is as bright and clear as we could have hoped. The early frost has melted to leave us with a perfect walking day.

The toilets at Fairholmes are the prerequisite stopping spot before parking up at the side of the massive towers and hulking wall of the Derwent Dam. There is no one else here, yet. The air is deceptively chilly so we layer up before setting off, looking at least two dress sizes larger than is the case!

We pass the memorial to Tip, a faithful dog, and cross over the cattle grid. At the far side we pause to watch a squirrel bounding through the undergrowth as though its little legs are made of springs. It pauses behind a tree, watching us watching it, before it scurries away out of sight.

Although we have to walk on the road for a stretch it is no problem at this time of day. There is little traffic, although later in the afternoon the drivers will be out in their droves and those who are not too good at reversing will regret coming this way.

Looking back at the dam wall from the rear view it is impossible to see what is holding back the water, its level is so high. Another few inches (probably millions of gallons) and it will cascade over the top - always a sight worth seeing. But the reservoir itself is covered with grey ripples and deep shadows, ominous but compelling.

Once we pass Gores Farm we can walk on the edge of the wood that sweeps down to the reservoir, although we have to be careful of knobbly tree roots that twine beneath the path with the special intention of tripping up the unwary. A short way on we can see, through the trees and along the length of Derwent Reservoir to Howden Dam. The view is beautifully framed, as though the position was chosen by an artist rather than an engineer, and today it is especially magical as we can see water pouring over the dam like a sheet of lace. Close to it will be extremely loud but from this distance it is quite tranquil.

It doesn't take us long to reach the bend in the road which was the end point of our previous walk. Today, though, we have arrived here much too soon so we consult the map and decide to head west through a gate heading for access land to see what we can see. We've never been up here before.

The first part of the track has been surfaced with chippings for the forestry vehicles, but it doesn't prevent the valley having a totally different feel to its larger neighbour. It's quieter (no logging today) and has large pockets of native trees around the stream. Some of the trees - both native and coniferous - have boxes on them, possibly for bats since we can't see any holes. It is good to think that wildlife is being given serious consideration in a managed environment.

We soon reach the end of the 'road' and set off across rough ground littered with the remnants of felling. We have a wide stream to cross, and we have decision time. Do we go left and follow Alport Grain or take the right fork along Ouzelden Brook? Alport Grain wins: it's lighter, brighter and in the open whereas Ouzelden Brook is through conifers and looks seriously boggy.

First we have to cross Ouzelden Brook where its banks have kept the sunlight from the water and left the shaded grasses weighed down with heavy globules of ice.

At the far side is a stretch of dry stone wall, very old but redundant now. Its smooth flat stones are red tinged beneath heavy encrustations of moss and lichen. Close by are some tall, old trees standing guard over Alport Grain (we're still debating over the species) looking very imposing and special despite being hemmed in by ranks of conifers. At least some new native trees have been planted, their spindly forms cocooned in protective plastic tubes.

We're forced to scramble as the path (what path?) becomes indistinct (nothing new there) and then we have to cross Alport Grain to avoid a bog (recurring theme). At this side we meet another old tree, a broad trunked silver birch which must be nearing the end of a long life, its thick roots clawing upwards in an attempt to cling onto the bank. Its fallen companion lays at its side, no doubt providing refuge for small creatures and mini-beasts.

A little way upstream and we have to cross over again and negotiate our way up the suddenly steeper opposite bank. Hands and knees are employed, dignity is abandoned.

We are beneath the rocks on Birchinlee New Piece and as we walk through the deep grass and dead bracken we find a couple of pockets of snow glistening, but not melting in the sunlight. Hardly surprising, there's an icy breeze blowing down the valley.

It's lunch time and we find the perfect boulder it sit on; low down enough to be beneath the breeze but with the sun on our backs and the sound on water nearby.

We empty the secret flask and make a toast before fetching out lunch and the buns. Fresh cream lemon muffins. They look wonderful. Paparazzi Cate says they are. I don't know. I have a cold and can't taste a thing.

We sit a while and as we do a buzzard soars overhead with a lazy flap of its wings. We've seen them around here before, usually up the valley, so we wait hoping for another sighting. Our patience is rewarded when we see two more over Bellhag Tor, one of them quite a size.

It's too enticing sitting here so we force ourselves to pack up and head back, detouring slightly to avoid the acrobatics by the stream. The slight change of route opens up a whole new vista so we hurriedly scramble upwards to a vantage point and wow! We can see beyond the reservoir and Abbey Bank to where Howden Edge and the Howden Moors are covered with huge dollops of snow. It's lovely up there, but we wouldn't fancy it today. Much better to enjoy it from here.

We back track along our outward route to the cars, but know that we'll be back. We want to explore the route of Alport Grain and see if we can get up onto Pasture Tor and Bellhag Tor to make a circuit.

But for today we have achieved what we set out to do, and remembered our last walk here with a gentleman.