HATHERSAGE MOOR

Due in part to our lack of exploration last week, and also the prospect of a dodgy pay and display machine giving us cheap parking, we once again meet up in the Surprise View car park with a vague plan of action  to enjoy a more scenic route today.

We're still in luck, the parking machine will still only let us pay for one hour (card payments only!) which we duly do before preparing to set off. There are still remnants of snow and a heavy frost tucked into the tussocks of grass and shady side of rocks. The wind is a chill one too, but at least the sun is shining today - and it has brought out a fair few walkers too.

We head off on the path that rises up through the sparse woods at the back of the car park and climb carefully up the rocks. Fortunately millstone grit isn't slippery, unlike the White Peak's limestone.

Mollie finds a toy to play with and we head onwards on the path towards Mother Cap. We detour off to the right as a chatty family group start to catch up with us. They aren't well dressed for walking so we guess they won't be going too far, we move away to let them overtake us as we explore the stones on the right of the moor before winding back to the path.

Mother Cap is a very distinctive - and much climbed - natural monument of stone, visible for miles.

We walk around it and continue along the path heading towards Windyards Nick. Now we are on the same route as last week, only with a better view.

We can see for miles, and we have a brief debate on whether the birch wood (pictured) could, in certain atmospheric conditions, seem to appear near the enclosure/sheepfold on Hathersage Moor, which is still some way off. PC says Yes. I say No.

We reach the aforementioned sheepfold and take the route around its southern edge and head towards Higger Tor.

It's always a bit of a huff and puff climbing up here, but the views towards Carl Wark are worth it.

It is quite busy on the top of the Tor, and a bit too chilly too. We start to make our way down on the other side as PC declares that we need to head into the coniferous woodland through which Burbage Brook runs. It is, she says, a non-negotiable stopping place (for obvious reasons).

Fortunately we find a comfortable spot in the woods where we are out of the wind and out of sight (more or less) and although it would be nice to say it was peaceful the constant yelling and screaming of a school-group up on the Tor carries for miles. 




However, it is good spot for lunch and coffee, and the much anticipated buns (cinnamon swirls - more cinnamon next time, please).

With lunch over we have a brief debate as to where to head next and choose, to go down to the brook and cross over. This turns out to be one of our less successful ideas. Whereas there is a visible path on the other side reaching it is probably only possible for those possessing greater agility than ourselves.

To begin with we have to negotiate the lumber left over from the felling of swathes of the wood (either last year or the year before) then find that the brook is flowing fast and deep. Any stones that might prove useful for crossing are either submerged or covered in slippery moss. We decide, instead, to follow a sort-of path at the side of the brook - we clearly aren't the only ones who have trod this way.

It is a bit up and down, and a bit uncertain in places, but we never actually find a place to cross. And again we end up having to scramble over heaps of discarded branches. We end up letting Mollie off the lead to make her own way, there aren't any sheep about and she is much better left to her own devices.

Eventually, though we come in sight of the little footbridge that takes the main path off of Carl Wark. It is quite muddy in places as a young couple, not ideally dressed for a day out, discover when she slips down. Unharmed, though, they continue up towards Carl Wark as we cross the bridge.

A new bridge has been built here recently, looking quite stark against the muted hillside. 

We walk up to the  main path running under Burbage Rocks and aren't at all surprised that there are so many people walking here. It is an easy route, and we make good time to the end of the road and the path. 

Once over the road we go through a gate into the edge of the Longshaw Estate, turn right to follow the road then through another gateway and across a stone clapper-type bridge.

















We follow the familiar route down and skirt the lower reaches of Burbage Brook, following it until we turn right on the high-banked path leading us back to the car park.

We have made pretty good time, and made so much more of the walk than last week. Fingers crossed we'll do as well next week.

A BURBAGE CIRCUIT

Winter is coming and the weather to match it; cold, windy, damp and murky. We have decided on an old familiar route today, one we haven't done for a while, but when we meet up at the Upper Burbage Bridge car park we are quite surprised to find very little company. This is usually extremely popular at all times of year so it is most unusual for there to be only two or three cars there.

We pull on plenty of layers this morning, the wind is distinctly chilly, the sky is very overcast and rain is a constant threat, so we add our water proofs on top to make sure we aren't caught out. Mollie is eager to walk, this is her first with us for a while.

Braving the road we cross over the bridge and onto the path choosing to go up onto the lesser used Burbage Moor track. There are plenty of puddles and boggy bits from the overnight rain, and we meet a few walkers too. The path down below Burbage rocks seems to be unused (it is usually the 'busy' path) and we soon discover why. Diggers, workmen and even a helicopter are down by Burbage Brook clearing the conifers and making 'improvements'. The path will be closed - in the week only - for quite some time.

We are untroubled for now by the closed path and continue on our way admiring the view and (no surprise here) talking. We decide not to stop to eat until we are on the far side of the brook, but that doesn't stop us pausing for a warming nip from the secret flask. Today PC attempts to guess the contents, without success. It is Sloe and Apple Vodka made with apples from the garden and some sloes left over from the gin making. It has turned out well, and I certainly prefer it to the Sloe Gin.

Suitably warmed we press on to the end of the trail, out of the gate and onto the road for a short stretch. We cross over the brook at Burbage Bridge and take the stile at the other side, clamber uphill at the side of Toad's Mouth then find ourselves a sheltering rock face where we can sit and eat lunch.

The rain is making more of an effort now so we don't linger too long. Spiced vanilla latte makes a change from ordinary coffee, then sandwiches, followed by lovely custard Danish pastries. The pastry is so light we feel as though we have hardly indulged, but we don't inspect the calorie count!

From here we continue up to the top of the small ridge then follow a path along Hathersage Moor, picking our way carefully and reflecting on how easy it would be to become lost. We walk up onto Carl Wark and admire the huge boulder-like stones on its northern side. Then it is a straight path to Higger Tor which, as usual, defies a straight and easy ascent as we make our own route and scramble through the rocks.

The view from the top, though, is superb. But the cold makes sure we don't linger. Although the top of the Tor is a mix of rocks and small tracks, once we reach the far side we are onto the straight path leading us back to the car park. There are few people out now, and the car park is deserted apart from our cars. Daylight on this murky day is waning fast, a sign that soon it will be dark by mid-afternoon. We are cold, and a little damp, but it has been another excellent walk.

HATHERSAGE MOOR, HIGGER TOR, BURBAGE

Here we are for our first walk back after the summer holidays and it feels good to be out. We meet at the Surprise View car park under an unpromising sky of mist which threatens rain, not that it matters to hardy souls like us. We have loads of news to catch up with and are desperate to escape the accumulated post-holiday chores which have multiplied alarmingly in our absence.

We cope admirably with the parking-ticket machine which had us stumped on our last visit then set off gingerly, nursing a dodgy hip and back back - one each so they're equally shared.

The first stile is approached with caution but we cope with it easily. See, things aren't too bad after all! We almost immediately encounter a small uphill scramble, but experience of this means we know the easy way and we're soon on the open moor covered with a dense carpet of heather and spindly silver birch trees. The path is sandy underfoot due to the constant erosion of the sombre grey gritstone.

We're heading uphill here, but at a gentle gradient which gives us plenty of breath to talk about all that has happened since we last met up.

We pause to take photos of some of a couple of strangely eroded rocks that look like a pair of Komodo Dragons turned to stone, one looking north, the other south.

A short distance along we reach the towering bulk of Mother Cap, a large wind-weathered monolith that is visible from a great distance away. It is a popular site for climbers with a route up it being called, apparently, Conan the Librarian! Why? No idea.

After only a brief pause to admire the view, and to remove a layer of clothing - the sun has emerged - we head north towards the distinctive flat-topped rise of Higger Tor. We take a path that is not on the OS but is well used enough to be clear on the ground. Carl Wark, the iron age (or possibly even bronze age) hill fort is over to our right. Carl Wark isn't the only evidence of settlement here on Hathersage Moor although the fort is the clearest with the rest being buried beneath vegetation.

Our path dips at Winyards Nick with another crossing it, but we continue straight on. Soon we reach the only enclosure on the moor, a large rectangular sheepfold. As always we look for the 'missing wood'.

I'll explain. On a walk here some years ago, in snow and thick fog, we passed the corner of the sheepfold heading in the opposite direction and saw, heading roughly easterly, two cart tracks leading in to a wood of spindly silver birches. After much debate we decided to press on instead of going into the wood and forgot all about it. Until I went on a walk there some time later and - no wood! I asked PC. She remembered the wood too (I hadn't imagined it) so we went back together. Despite us both recalling the wood's exactly location and what it looked like, it quite simply wasn't there. A mirage? or some kind of window to a former time? We're still debating the point, and we look for the wood on every visit. One day we'll return in fog, just to see...

Skirting the enclosure boundary we head towards Higger Tor, which looms larger on our approach. We shun the direct ascent and skirt around to the east where we can climb up without undue effort. At the top we pause for a sip from the secret flask, but to our overwhelming frustration the top won't come off. We both try, even resorting to bashing the flask on a rock, but all we manage to do is form a hairline crack in the metal that oozes the odd drop of nectar. Grr.

Refusing to be daunted we set off on the clear path towards Upper Burbage Bridge. This whole area of the moor is very close to road so is easily accessible which makes for more visitors. There are quite a few small groups out, and we have to remind ourselves that although this area is on our doorsteps, it is actually a holiday location for many people.

We cross Burbage Brook by the bridge rather than the up and down scramble over the water. Our way is quicker, and safer, especially in our fragile states.

At the far side of the Brook we debate whether to take the high route on the top of Burbage Rocks on the edge of Burbage Moor or keep to the lower, easier path that forms, apparently, part of the Sheffield Country Walk. We opt for the easy route today but first drop down towards the Brook to sit on some boulders in the sun to eat lunch. The coffee is welcome, as is secret flask number 2 which is only brought out in times of dire need. It feels very civilised sitting here, sipping our drinks, eating lunch and contemplating the moors, the weather, life and everything. And buns. PC has done us proud. Two cup cakes - one lemon, one coffee - are duly presented for admiration before being ceremoniously cut in half and savoured.

It would be far too easy to sit here all day with life buzzing past inconsequentially, but we have to move so we hoist ourselves stiffly upright and head off.

We discuss which path to take, either the one on the top of the rocks, or the lower track. We go for the low track as it is track is so easy to walk and as such is far more popular than the paths on the other side of the Brook. Even today, midweek, we see more people than we usually do, and at weekends it will be like the M1. To our left the rocky ridge of Burbage Rocks stands starkly sculptured in the sun.We pause frequently to admire the views up and down Burbage Basin and across to Carl Wark.

When we reach the road we cross over and into the Longshaw Estate which gives us easy access back to the car park. We go over Burbage Brook by a footbridge then follow the stream side path to the footpath leading to Surprise View car park. When we arrive there we are surprised to see an ice cream van. Tempting, but no. Smugly satisfied that we can resist temptation we plan our next walk then head home with the sun still shining. An excellent first outing.