OVER HADDON TO CONKSBURY CIRCUIT

Well we've managed it, the only wet (very wet!) day in a week of clear skies. Nice to see we haven't lost the knack.

Mollie is back with us today as we meet in the comparatively large car park at Over Haddon. We've only ever parked in the upper section as there have never been many cars when we've walked, but we can imagine it gets pretty full at the weekend. Of course it is a Pay and Display but it also has the benefit of toilets that are open.

Once we've togged up - waterproofs from the start today - we set off down the steep road to Lathkill Dale with the rain running in rivulets by our feet.

At the foot of the road we come to the River Lathkill which, no surprises, is flowing swiftly. It looks lovely despite the starkness of the winter landscape, and with the added addition of snowdrops on its scrubby banks. In fact, today turns out to be a very snowdroppy walk as we see them everywhere.



After some photos we cross over the clapper bridge and head upwards through the trees on the distinct track. This turns a sharp right then takes us higher still until we go through a gate and into a field which, thankfully, is devoid of cattle!

We cross the field and head towards the farm of Meadow Place Grange, once a monastic holding (see previous blog post) where we go through another gate and through a muddy yard. We then head for the track on our left which is relatively dry, unlike the muddy field path ahead. Glad we aren't going that way today.




As we walk along the farmer approaches with his tractor so we step aside out of his way. He waves his thanks as he passes and as I turn to see what PC is up to I see, for the first time despite looking for years, the distinctive outlines of Conksbury Medieval Village on the opposite hillside. Trees have obscured our view before though it is probably more obvious if walking from the opposite direction.

The link below gives the English Heritage listing for the site with more information.http://list.english-heritage.org.uk/resultsingle.aspx?uid=1014589
I have tried to find an aerial photo of the site but sadly had no success.

We continue along the track to the road, which tends to be quite busy for a small rural road, and go down it a little way before hopping onto a track on our right. We walk along a little way through some trees to a gate but decide to turn back as this clearly leads towards Alport and that isn't in our plan for the day.

Back at the road we walk downhill towards the impressive Conksbury Bridge and once at the far side we make a bee-line for the benches. They are wet but slightly sheltered from behind, and I have brought a large umbrella with just this scenario in mind. So, beneath the brolly we have a nip from PC's secret flask (the last of the Cointreau), a cup of coffee and two of today's buns (which are quite small, honest).

Sadly, despite appearances to the contrary, they are not up to the standard expected. They are quite dry and in need of a quick zap in the microwave. Not that it stops us eating them.

So with us set up and Mollie having had some biscuits we put down the brolly and take the path at the side of the Lathkill. There are a few walkers about now, but this is a lovely path which opens up to lovely views up the river. There are a pair of swans in the distance and moorhens bobbing around.



We scramble up the slippery slope on our right to find a makeshift seat on a fallen tree (been here before) and up comes the brolly again as we settle down for lunch proper. And it's a good job we have the brolly too as the heavens open and it absolutely pours down.

Salad, sandwiches, coffee and the last two buns which leave us with a sense of disappointment. Ah well, we'll know for next time.

By the time we have finished eating the rain does ease a little so we carefully step down the slope and back onto the path. Now we follow the river and as the path climbs up I avoid looking at the young cows, then we take care on the downward stretch and the limestone underfoot can be very slippery when wet.
We aren't far from the clapper bridge now but we still have the delights of huge clumps of snowdrops to enjoy. Then it is just the steady trudge up the steep hill and back to the car park.
Naturally, as soon as we are ready to leave the rain stops, and by the time I am half way home the sun even starts to shine. A fairly typical day's walk for us!

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.