PRE-CHRISTMAS SNOW, HAIL AND SLEET AT CASTLETON

This is to be our last walk before Christmas, and the last one of the year, so despite a postponement and the rough weather of the last few days we are looking forward to be out.

 We have chosen Castleton with the vague hope that a late finish may enable us to see the Christmas lights, and also knowing we have plenty of choices for walking. We park up on the road close to bottom of Winnat's Pass (free parking except at weekends and bank holidays) and decide, since we don't have Mollie but we have had a lot of rain, that a road walk will be in order. Mollie's fear of traffic makes it hard to do roads with her, and although the prospect of treading the tarmac doesn't usually appeal, nor does slogging through rivulets of water or bogs.

So after our exchange of prezzies (not to be opened until Christmas Day) we don our waterproofs - just in case of rain but also to keep the biting wind at bay - over many layers of clothes then set off up the road.

Yes, it is easy walking but we are also lucky that it is quiet - not the tourist season any more and a bit late in the year for the hoards of schoolchildren on geography field trips. It means we have lots of time to talk - something we are very accomplished at!

The road leads us past Treak Cliff Cavern and the disused Odin Mine then around the bulk known as Little Mam Tor. We ignore the turn off that we usually take across towards Hollins Cross and instead keep on the old road, now disused and broken up, courtesy of the unstable 'Shivering Mountain', Mam Tor.

The broken sections of road dip and twist but it is easy walking. Higher up there is a vehicle turning circle and a couple of benches. We decide to have a sit down, enjoy the view and have a sip from the secret flask (orange gin today) and share a box of Maltesers Well, it is almost Christmas.

As we sit we are visited by a hopeful jackdaw so we reward his (or her) persistence with some pieces of bread from my lunchtime sandwich. Ever hopeful he waits around until we are ready to leave, and gobbles down a couple more chunks as a parting gift.

The road makes easy walking past the Blue John Cavern then up to where it joins the main road. Here we decide to cross over the field at Windy Knoll then we do a quick right and left onto the track leading past Rowter Farm. We pass some walkers, only the second we have seen today and the last we will see until we get back, then find, to our surprise, snow. We knew there was snow on high ground during the very cold snap last week, but we weren't quite expecting to see any today. Admittedly there isn't a huge amount left, but sufficient to prove how cold it is. So here we are, above Castleton, and able to make the first snowball of the year.

We carry on along the track, and when we have a choice to drop down to Cave Dale we instead continue straight along towards Dirtlow Rake. On our left is a magnificent stretch of drystone wall currently under construction, and we pause to admire the wonderful workmanship. However, we also notice that, in the distance, the clouds are gathering so we press on.

As we approach the road that circuits the massive quarry - an offshot from Brough going through Smalldale to Pindale then Castleton - we see a stile on our left and, across a field, another stile in the fence line. There are no signs but, curiosity getting the better of us, we decide to see where they lead to and if there is anywhere to sit for a late lunch. 

Over the first stile (a bit of a stretch) then up the field to the second we find we are entering access land, not marked on my current map, which covers a large area from here to Castleton. The views from the highpoint pole are superb and well worth seeing, even though a camera can never do the 360 degree panorama justice. We hike over to a broken drystone wall hoping for shelter from the wind for lunch, but the only suitable places have been overused by sheep so we hunt around for somewhere else.

Eventually we are comfortably sat in a deep hollow with a cup of scalding hot coffee to keep us warm. Sandwiches are eaten then we have spiced apple and fresh cream muffins - the most Christmassy bun I could find this morning. They go down extremely well, followed by more coffee which helps to keep the dropping temperature at bay.

By now the clouds are really massing and we decide to continue ahead to meet the path at the head of Cave Dale rather than returning to our original route through Pin Dale. 

We follow a little-used vehicle track and then find a grassy slope that takes us easily onto the Cave Dale path. Then we come to a small junction with Cave Dale ahead and an upward sloping path onto access land to our left. In a spirit of adventure, and knowing how slippery the decent into Cave Dale can be in wet weather, we choose the path onto access land. 

Then it starts to hail.

Fortunately the hail doesn't last too long and we are out on the expanse of land at Cow Low. There is a footpath here, crossing the moorland straight to Castleton, but there is no clear sign of it on the ground so we start to make it up as we go along. By now the hail has turned to rain and we are careful of where we are walking. 

Eventually we find the straight track that appears to point directly to Peveril Castle, although it is hard to tell since the rain has turned to freezing cold sleet and it is coming at us almost horizontally. This part of the walk is grim, and we are extremely glad of our waterproofs.


When the castle looms at us from the murk we hunt around for the next path which is not particularly clear in the conditions. But find it we do, an almost 180 degree turn and going steadily downhill. The sleet has slowed to heavy rain now so we are careful not to slip (we do have a couple of 'Dancing on Ice' moments) and by the time we reach the bottom of the slope the rain has stopped and there is even some blue sky!

We take the muddy path next to the wall in the direction of Castleton and soon we are through a gate and into the village, looking rather muddy around the edges - so much for it being a road walk!

As we wander back through the village we browse in a few of the shops - Blue John is so pretty - and take time to look at the lights which, to be honest, are a bit of a let down. There are Christmas trees outside some of the shops with bright lights on them, but no central tree nor any other trimmings. A sign of austerity we suppose, not many places seem able or willing to provide the kind of Christmas show we remember from our childhoods.

Now all we have to do is walk the short stretch back to the car. It is dark now, both with the encroaching nightfall in the shortened day and because the rain clouds are back. We barely have time to divest ourselves of our outdoor gear, say our goodbyes and jump into the cars before the deluge starts again.

So that is it until next year.

We send everyone our Best Wishes for a Very Happy Christmas.

CASTLETON, CAVEDALE AND PINDALE

With half term over - and the worst of the revision for GCSEs and AS levels behind us - we were fighting to get out walking again.


Naturally, delays are inevitable when we're desperate, so our meeting time turns out to be much later than planned. Never mind, the main car park at Castleton isn't too full since it's only just rained - and pretty briskly too - which means that most people are keeping away, for now. The car park has probably the best views in Castleton of Peveril Castle as it glares down on the village from its vantage point.


The original castle was built soon after the Conquest and is named after William Peveril who became The Bailiff of the Royal Manors of the Peak. The castle was passed from father to son through successive generations but in 1155 - one year after acceding to the throne - Henry II took the castle into his own possession and in 1176 the present stone keep was constructed. Since then it has either belonged to the Crown or the Duchy of Lancaster. It is an English Heritage site. Although now it is only a romantic, evocative ruin in its heyday it would have been alien, imposing and downright intimidating.


We set off hoping that it won't rain again, but prepared for the worst. The clouds are pretty gloomy. I'm taking hiking poles today (not my idea!) but so far I'm only carrying them as we walk through the village and up the road next to the church (and The George pub - will have to go back there sometime soon).


There's no need to map read as we head for a gap, a car's width, between some cottages to our right. As soon as we're off the road the whole atmosphere changes. The trees arc over the path and slabs of limestone studded with greenery rise up beside us.


We push open the gate and Cavedale opens up ahead of us - enclosed by cliffs - stark and wonderfully picturesque. The monotonous guttural caw of the crows only adds to the atmosphere.

It's uphill - a lot more of the uphill than we remember - so I use the walking poles. Still not sure if they're a help or a hindrance, but they make my arms ache.


It's the time of year for schools' geography field trips, so we aren't too surprised to see some 'land art' - limestone rocks and stones spelling out the names of young loves. It's likely that the stone names will outlive the youthful infatuations!


There's no one else in the dale yet, but we can hear voices from above. Looking up see people up on the castle walls peering down at us. It's quite sobering to think how it would have been when the castle was at its most active - no doubt we'd have been used as target practise.


A little way past the castle and there's a cave, barred and padlocked now, and we can hear a generator or pump working somewhere deep below ground. PC remembers stopping at this cave for a coffee many eons ago!


The dale narrows quite a bit here and underfoot it's very rocky. There's a trickle of water working its way downhill after this morning's rain, but we've been up here in the past and almost paddling.


We continue to climb to the gate at the top of the dale, then decide impulsively to head around on a track to see the castle from a new vantage point. We follow the drystone wall, hop over it where the sheep have demolished it, and find ourselves somewhere to sit for a break. A prolonged break.


We really couldn't have found a better spot. The castle is at eye level to our left, the woods are in front of us and we can see almost the full length of the steep sided dale below us. Magic.

So we sit and talk, and have a drink, and sit and talk some more until we realise that it's past noon. Pragmatic as always we fetch out our sandwiches and coffee, but hold back on the buns to add some incentive to continue. We do toy with the idea of lounging here all day then just ambling back to Castleton, but the hoards are reaching the dale and although most don't make it to the top we don't want to get caught up with them all. So we pull ourselves up, repack our rucksacks, return to the gate and carry on up the valley.

As expected, there are very few people here even though the walking is easy - the worst is behind us. We see a bird dart into a crack in a broken down wall, and hear the frantic cheep of young before the bird re-emerges but we don't go closer for fear of disturbing them.

Despite the sun coming out it is quite cold, the wind is channelling down the valley, but apart from a few ominous clouds and a couple of drops of rain the weather isn't bothering us. We have an interesting and very curious discussion about cloud-watchers. It clearly takes all sorts!

We have to go through a field of cows, but fortunately they're keeping their distance (they know I have the walking poles) and soon we're on the track that runs from Winnats to Pindale, and turn left.

This is very easy walking, level but high enough to have decent views all around. The beauty of this part of the walk is that we know we're unlikely to see anyone at all. The few people that do reach this point tend not to take the route we're following.

One thing we begin to notice is that where there is an absence of drystone walls there's lots of new-looking fencing.

However, before we think too much about it we see a herd of calves clustered close to the fence in a field next to the track. They're a little shy and skittish but very cute (especially as they're behind a fence) and I even manage to approach and touch one of the braver ones. Bravery ends there as both calf and I rapidly exit in opposite directions!

As we walk on we begin to get a feeling that something isn't quite right. Last time we were here there was a huge quarry spoil heap to our left, and now there isn't. We pause, consult the map, and puzzle over it. Surely we can't be lost. Looking at the sparse grass in the fields we deduce that the spoil has gone, been spread out and the land reclaimed.

Sure enough, a little way on we see a sign-board that confirms our suspicions. The former site of Dirtlow Rake has been levelled and returned to pasture, removing a million tonnes of waste and importing soil from Hope in the process. It has opened up views of Mam Tor and the surrounding area as well as restoring valuable agricultural land. A pity the even larger limestone quarry at Bradwell and the monstrosity of a cement works at Pindale are still around to blight the landscape.

We follow the track downhill, and it's getting worse as rain run off has gouged deep channels in the surface and dislodged stones making it hard to walk on. We skip onto the adjacent road instead and soon we see a couple of orchids growing on the verge. A few yards further and there's a field with clumps of the deep purple gems.

Undeterred by a stone wall PC decides to get up close for a shot.

Her agility and athleticism have to be commended, and with the bionic hip giving no trouble at all she gracefully scales the wall and returns triumphant after achieving a memorable photo.

After that we're starting to show signs of bun-deprivation, so as soon as we find somewhere to sit off the road we detour and unpack the coffee and fresh cream scones. What we don't realise is that we're sat on the local anthill - something that soon becomes apparent - so our break is short lived, the scones eaten and coffee drunk with unseemly haste, and we're back on our feet again for the home run.

To our left is a short-cut path across the fields which takes out the steep, severe loop in the road. What we don't realise until we reach it is that the path is obviously little used because it is so steep. Sheep watch us smugly as we carefully make our way down the slippery grass. Maybe it would have been better to take the road after all.

It isn't far to Castleton now and after we've passed the first few houses we pause to admire (with PC coveting) some huge plant pots in a beautiful small cottage garden. Very colourful but very tasteful too.

We know we're back in the village now, the sun has brought out the crowds. Sometimes we forget that the Peak District is a popular holiday destination, and June is a holiday month. For us it's 'local' and we'll be out at any time of year, commitments permitting.

The car park, naturally, is full to bursting point but we, thankfully, are leaving the hoards behind. Just enough time to plan our next walk, in two weeks, then drive off into the sunny afternoon.