Two weeks in a row - very good going for us at the moment, but we have managed it although we have chosen what appears to be the only dull, damp day in the middle of an unseasonable clear spell. Well, we can't have everything.
We park up near the Monsal Trail just off the A6020 where the minor road (a B road, I think, but not numbered on the map) heads for Great Longstone. There is enough room for two or three cars here, and another couple of spaces at the far side of the bridge. Ample room in the week but not likely to provide much luck during weekends.
Once we are togged up ready to go, and with our waterproofs on due to the misty rain that is already falling, we walk under the bridge then take the path on our right which leads us straight up onto the Monsal Trail, a familiar place for us and easy walking. It isn't going to be a good day for photographs, particularly since PC has forgotten her camera (!) but I have mine so we should manage something even if they won't be particularly spectacular.
From a vantage point we can see the first part of the route we are planning to take, not realising from here that the distant ridge is where we will be ending up.
We come to a 'cross roads' on the Trail where we often turn right to take the path towards Bakewell, and Mollie is very keen to go in that direction, but today we go left and drop down to cross a lower field that leads to the road and Toll Bar House. On the gate someone has put up a copy of an old document relating to the Tolls.
We cross the road and go left for a little distance to the next stile - a nice easy one compared with the ones we had to negotiate last week. The only downside is the huge boggy area immediately next to it, but we manage to skirt it then set off up the long slight incline of the field.
Although the rain has stopped the view is still obscured so we concentrate on our conversation instead. We cross more stiles and end up adjacent to a long, tall wall in an extremely muddy field. The field has been ploughed and the path sort-of reinstated, but isn't particularly good, although it could have been much worse. We come out of the field onto a slightly better track that takes us onto the Hassop-Great Longstone road where we turn right.
We haven't walked far along the road before we are stopped by a very polite White Van Man (Openreach) asking for directions! Have they not been given SatNavs? In the end the trusty OS map comes to the rescue and we are able to send the van driver (and his colleague in a following van) in the right direction. They were lucky to catch us, a little way along the road we find our next turning on the left and cross over to it.
Here things start to become a little tricky. The map shows the footpath crossing a field adjacent to a wall. On the ground, no wall, no visible path.
Undaunted we head off in what we assume to be the general direction of the would-be path and find, once we have passed the lone tree, that we can see where we need to go. Then, once more, we have a confusion of path choices in front of us, none particularly obvious on the ground. We are close to the village of Rowland now and wonder if there is some kind of conspiracy to keep hikers away! In the end we skirt the next field, ignore a promising looking crush-stile (no obvious path or exit from neighbouring field), continue along the bottom edge of the field and find an almost-new gate. Through here a short way and we come to another nearly new gate which leads onto the village road.
A quick consultation with the map (we hadn't planned a precise route today as we guessed we may have to do a bit of 'make it up as we go along') and we turn right along the road. Before long the tarmac road peters out and we are on a track leading gently uphill. On our right is a 'reservoir' which looks uncannily like a bronze-age round house on top of a hill but capped with concrete instead of thatch.
The path we need is on our left and although it climbs quite steeply it isn't hard going as it has a roughly laid surface. Sadly the increased elevation doesn't afford us better views today, which is what we had been hoping for. On a clear day it would, undoubtedly, be excellent.
As we near the top of the incline we can hear diggers, then realise that we are coming out near a quarry. And what a size it is too. This is the Deep Rake quarry, an enormous ugly blot on the landscape, and it is almost inconceivable that an operation of this size could be allowed within the Peak Park. (If you want to read more about the quarrying around here, and what local residents have been trying to do to put a halt to it, please go to this link.) www.longstone-edge.org.uk
At the top we turn left and walk along the wide 'roadway' avoiding one massive tractor then having to skirt a huge machine parked (complete with unconcerned driver in cab) right across the track. We have reached, and passed, the high point of the walk (still no view but plenty of noise from the quarrying) and are now on a downhill stretch. We pause to look at some windswept trees
then continue on our way until we find our next path which is on the left. And yes, there is a confusion of paths to choose from but we manage to find the right one.
We are on a steep mossy bank and decide that we have found the perfect place for lunch. Avoiding some straggly yet prickly young hawthorn saplings we manage to find a comfortable spot just out of the wind. The Ramblers first, naturally, then a warming cup of coffee. Mollie is pleased to see that this week I have remembered her biscuits.
PC has her sandwich and I have a heavy salad, then it is bun time. Or rather, pudding time as this week it is profiteroles. Very yummy, very sticky, and very filling. So filling, in fact, that Mollie has to help us by finishing off the excess cream and sauce.
Once we have had our second coffee we set off again, and it is all downhill. So downhill, in fact, that part of the path has been washed away in a lot of places. The photo doesn't do it justice, but it wasn't the easiest of paths to negotiate (although Mollie managed perfectly well!)
It is an interesting walk down the long slope, to say the least, but we manage to stay upright which is a consolation. At the bottom we reach a grassy track which is not noted on the OS map, so another brief debate follows. In the end we head along a narrow footpath and eventually come out exactly where we want to be. You can call it good luck though we prefer to think of it as good judgement.
A straight path through a field lies ahead of us and although there are cows in adjacent fields thankfully this one is clear. Still not much of a view, though it is probably lovely on a clear day.
At the bottom of the field we go through a gateway, turn right then left down a narrow green valley.
The path veers to the right and up to another stile from where we can look back on the route. From here we cross a couple of fields and are soon on a track leading us into the village of Great Longstone. We have a reasonable distance to walk on the roads here, but they are quiet and the village is pretty. We pass the church then at the bottom of the street turn right before looking for, and finding, our left hand road. This is a fairly long road, but we are able to cut out a corner by using a footpath across a field which brings us out close to the Monsal Trail at Thornbridge.
Feeling very pleased with our map reading skills on this walk we descend to the Trail and turn left heading back towards the cars and our starting point.
Despite the weather, which has been pretty dull and chilly, it has been a good walk. Perhaps not one of the best - too many confusing paths for that and not enough of the wide open views that we enjoy, - but certainly worth doing. And when we get back to the cars, it starts raining again!
Our usual excellent forward planning had deserted us so this walk was planned very hastily last night after we'd heard the rather grim weather forecast. Thunderstorms and heavy rain! Fortunately, PC came up with a suitable plan - visit the newly opened tunnels (see previous Monsal blog) on the Monsal Trail.
The decision to park in the laybay just past the bridge on the Great Longstone road (Longreave Lane?) is a good one, saving us driving through Great and Little Longstone as well as allowing us to follow the walk for a greater distance. However, given PC's legendary navigational skills I consider it prudent to be there before her so she doesn't miss the spot! Whilst waiting (yes, I make it first, an uncommon occurrence) the cloudy but dry day turns damp, then proceeds to become progressively wetter and wetter. By the time PC arrives we have to haul on all the waterproofs. Then I discover, to my dismay and PC's horror, that I've forgotten the umbrella. It would have been perfect on this steady, level walk.
Still, nothing we can do about it so we set off up the slight slope that leads us onto the bridge and the Monsal Trail just as we see a bright flash of lightening dropping onto Bakewell and hear the accompanying, ominously loud rumble of thunder.
The thunder rumbles around us as we walk along, and the rain hammers down. I'm seriously regretting forgetting the brolly as I'm sure my waterproof coat leaks but at least it is summer (supposedly) and warmish so I doubt I'll suffer too much.
The track sides of the trail are a mass of colour at this time of year (yes, rain-washed colour) with brilliant blue meadow cranesbill (geranium pratense) and bushes of climbing roses in whites and all shades of pink. The meadowsweet isn't out yet but later on we'll find spikes of lilac orchids - a rare treat.
We pass the village of Great Longstone over on our right, partly obscured by the rain, then under the bridge and past the old station. We walk on and pass the stile leading to Little Longstone which we'd always had to cross in the past as from this point the trail was closed. Not any more.
As we continue the rain eases a little and we pause to watch the tractors in one of Little Longstone's fields, then are quite surprised to see them going over a bridge that we're about to go under. A little way further on and we get our first glimpse of the Headstone Tunnel with its arched, protective cage to shield it (and those entering) from rock falls.
It's quite eerie walking up to the dark, bleak tunnel. There are lights along the roof but the far end cannot be seen as it curves away along its length. Along the approach the high walls of rock have insets of masonry making it look like something out of Lord of the Rings.! Very atmospheric.
OK, I'll admit it, I find it spooky but PC is in her element, snapping away with the camera while I try to get over the creepy, cold-fingers-down-the-spine feeling whilst trying to appreciate being out of the wet. Not that it's a lot drier under the tunnel as water is drip-dripping from the ceiling and running down the walls. It's quite a lot colder here too, though it's hardly a blisteringly hot summer's day outside, and we ponder on the suitability of using the tunnel for a wine cellar.
Sound carries very well and we can hear others entering from the far end long before we see them, and no doubt they can hear us and our rambling discussions too. We stop at the mid-point where we can just about see light at both ends of the tunnel, and PC attempts to take a series of panoramic shots.
We emerge from the tunnel at the iconic Monsal Head viaduct and peer through the high railings to watch the misty haze rising from the River Wye down in the dale. It isn't raining quite so much, but we hear another rumble of thunder which heralds a heavier downpour to come so we stride out along this familiar stretch of path to seek shelter in the last remaining building standing at the old Monsal Station. Just before we reach it - and with the promised rain keeping off for now, we discover a veritable field of toadstools emerging from some very damp wood chippings. Again, PC is in her element trying for a good photo.
The windowless, doorless station shelter provides a good place in which to enjoy a nip from the secret flask. Bit of a change today (in a rush to leave this morning so it was filled with the first bottle I put my hands on) so we treat ourselves to some homemade 'Red Arrow' (my name for raspberry gin). It's a while since I've had some and I'd forgotten how good it tastes. PC and I decide to savour a few sips to help to banish the gloom.
Maybe the gin hasn't helped the rain to stop but we feel a bit brighter and more summery for it and before long we reach the second opened tunnel, the Cressbrook Tunnel. It doesn't feel as long nor as gloomy as the Headstone, and there are a few more people about even though the rain is bucketing down again. Emerging at the far side we are high up above Water-cum-Jolly Dale and enjoying a view that we've never experienced before. It's quite magical - especially so when this is where we see the orchids.
Despite the continuing rainfall it's very pleasant walking along a brand new track (to us) but we haven't gone very far before we reach Litton Tunnel which we enter like old hands. We're beginning to feel hungry and do consider stopping in the tunnel for lunch, but it isn't terribly inviting so we decide to wait. Luckily, by the time we emerge the rain has slowed down considerably and looks ready to stop. By the time we reach our usual path down to Litton Mill (which we're not following today) the rain has actually stopped so we commandeer the bench at the side of the path and prepare for lunch.
We pass on another nip from the secret flask - it is possible to have too much of a good thing - and start off with a warming coffee. It's a good one this week, made by PC and far better that my dismal mix from the week before. Then it's lunch - a rapidly consumed sandwich for PC and a heavy salad for me (old joke) - followed by the buns. I'd been spoiled for choice on the bun-run this morning and eventually settled for individual banoffee pies - shortcrust pastry, bananas, caramel and fresh cream. I'd even brought forks to eat them with, but they weren't needed, the pies went down very quickly and very well.
A slight panic mid-lunch (another ominous rumble of thunder) made PC fetch out a small, flimsy brolly with a broken handle to cover us (and our buns) while we ate. It managed to do the job, saving us from soggy pies and diluted coffee.
The rain, though heavy, doesn't last long and by the time we've finished eating and drinking it has stopped and we're free to pour the rainwater from food containers and refill the rucksacks.
We've never walked this far along the trail before so, again, we have the benefit of newness. And as we walk we look up to see a glimmer of blue sky. Does this mean that the day is actually going to turn out nice after all?
The clouds gradually shift away and the grey murk starts to lift. We pause to admire the views at Ravenstor and a couple pass us in shirt sleeves and shorts - a sure sign that the weather is improving. Further along we see a metal speaker on a stand which turns out to have information on it 'Monsal Memories' - a series of six ten minute podcasts about the Monsal Line. It's a shame we don't have time to listen to them.
A little further on we decide it's time to turn around. It would be good to travel further, the sun is shining after all, but we have the same distance to travel back and we really can't be out too late. So we retrace our steps and see, a short way back, some wild strawberries. Tiny and sweet they are too good to miss so I scramble up a slope and pick them. A real taste of summer. Further along we see a huge swathe of them and temptation is too great. We have to stop and pick. It takes no time at all to gather a large handful - still plenty behind (oh, for more time) - and it really feels good to be eating them as we walk along. How come we missed them on the way out? And how come more people haven't seen them and devoured them? It's a very short season for the wild strawberries, so we're just grateful to have been lucky enough to find them.
We're making good time, and enjoying the returning views though PC's camera isn't too happy about getting soggy and will probably need some drying out when she gets it home. As we approach Cressbrook Tunnel we're greeted by swirling mist rising from the entrance and PC jokes that maybe the trains are still running. It certainly looks as though a ghostly train is on its way, but it's merely the effects of the warm moist air meeting the colder air of the tunnel. We can feel a distinct chill as we approach and the swirling fog extends some way inside before dissipating. Eerie.
We're on a bit of a march now so although we're enjoying the sights and the sun we don't have time to loiter. There are plenty of cyclists and walkers out, an indication of the popularity and accessibility of this trail. We pass a straggling group of primary school children who look as tired as their teachers, then we heading down the slope off the trail towards our cars. It's good to be able to take off soggy coats and boots although it doesn't look as though the rain has done with the day. A few more spots fall as we drive away.
