ABANDON HOPE AND ENTER CAVEDALE

The best laid plans have been thwarted again and our promised hike from Hope up Win Hill has had to be postponed. This time, gales, heavy rain, sleet, hail - the works! A power cut where I live means no hot water and, worse still, no coffee. Fortunately a quick text to PC resolves this and she gamely brings along coffee as well as bun, and we also rearrange our walk; we don't want to be on high ground in these winds.

So, with Hope abandoned we decide to meet in Castleton instead and are surprised, given the weather, how busy it is. Already there are groups of bedraggled schoolchildren/Duke of Edinburgh walkers out, along with the Easter holiday-makers. 

As usual we park up on the road just past the Peak Cavern, drag on all our waterproof gear, then set off down the road heading towards Cavedale. 

As soon as we turn up between the houses to the dale entrance we have a taste of what is to come. The tiny lane is awash and the wind is funnelling down strongly. We push on through the gate and start our upward paddle, leaning against the wind. Strangely enough, the photos do not show how wet it really is!

We pause beneath the castle as a group of youngsters ahead of us stop, seemingly lost. Their discussion lasts a while before they set off again, on the only path ahead!

When we reach the spot where the group had been we realise why they had paused. It feels as though all the four winds have congregated in this one spot and it is extremely difficult to move forward. No wonder they were debating whether to go on or not. For us, though, there is no dilemma. We have every intention of forging ahead. I promise PC (without anything to back up my assertions, naturally) that further up the valley the wind will be less forceful. 

As we fight our way upwards against the wind and through a wide stream-bed there is a brief glimmer of sunshine. PC captures it perfectly. It makes the whole landscape look benign and pleasant.

 So, just to put the record straight, and get rid of the idea that maybe we were just making it up about the weather, I have added one of my own photos (from my phone) below. Yes, the river is the footpath!

As we climb up Cavedale against the tide (it certainly feels that way) the wind does actually lessen although there seems to be more and more water. It cascades over the limestone in a manner that would undoubtedly have made Capability Brown jealous, although he would probably have made the path around it rather than through it.

Eventually we make it through the gate at the top, relieved to have made it over the worst of the river-cum-path. A natural spring is gushing from the woods a little lower down on our left and beyond it is relatively dry (relative to the downpour and soggy ground). We pause to admire the view, have a nip from the secret flask as a reward, then press onwards.

It is nearing lunchtime so we decide to find somewhere sheltered to have food. It isn't easy, but eventually we managed to huddle up behind some rocks that give us sufficient protection from the wind. We are very close to the path, sadly, but that can't be helped. 

My first hot drink of the day (thank you, PC) goes down extremely well, then we follow with sandwiches and, joy of joys, yummy buns and a drink (it's my birthday walk, and PC is treating me!). The buns are fantastic, fat choux buns with fresh cream and sticky chocolate icing on top. And the drink is fizz. Bliss.

A surprising number of walkers come past us, most just say a quick hello, but one couple have no idea where they are or where they are going. The have come up from Castleton, they tell us (no, really!) but wonder where the path leads and if they can get back to Castleton, and how far, and where do they go, and how far have they come and how long will it take.........the questions go on. They have no map, no food, nothing to drink (they tell us with a kind of misplaced pride) and are hoping we will provide directions and instructions. We do the best we can and send them on their way whilst refraining from telling them to be better prepared next time.

The wind is still keen but the rain has stopped by the time we have finished lunch, so we carry on up the valley along the gentler, wide path. It is quite muddy in places and when we come to one of the gates we are in for a paddle. Mollie is the only one who is happy about it.

We continue ahead, avoiding the mud, then veering to the left where the wide swathe of the path climbs up. It is well walked (this is the Limestone Way, after all) but still grassy. As we reach the top of the rise the wind hits us again with renewed force. We are walking into it and feel as though we are pushing against treacle.

Through the gate and we turn right, then right again heading towards Winnat's Pass. The group of hikers we had remarked on earlier (and seen a couple more times) are at a standstill again close to Rowter Farm. It looks as though this time we might be in danger of catching up with them, but they set off again.

However, a few hundred yards later and they are, once more at a standstill. This time we do catch up and overtake them; a group of older teens debating their route. However, there isn't much choice, other than straight ahead.

They follow us to the end of the lane and as we open the gate to get onto the road they decide to take the stile. Seems a waste of energy, especially since they appear to need to stop every few hundred yards or so.

We turn right and head for Winnat's Pass, the group disappear to who-knows-where. The wind is behind us now but at least the rain has stopped.

It is a familiar walk down the winding Pass, and we keep to the left hand side where there is a path behind a wall. Slippery in places over the worn limestone it is important to be cautious.

Once through the gate at the bottom and onto the wide verge running alongside the road we realise that this might be the hardest part of the walk. The whole verge is a sodden mass with running water and slippery mud. PC has her walking poles which she needs to keep herself upright, and I eventually step onto the road with Mollie as it seems the safer option.

With the wind behind me I find myself being pushing into a jog, PC is quite surprised as I pass her but anything we might say to each other is whipped away by the gale.

Eventually I make it back onto the verge, steady myself against the wind which is pushing like crowd of schoolchildren trying to get onto the bus home. When PC catches up we round a small outcrop in the hope that it will protect us. It affords little help, and there is even more water here.

And then it happens: my turn to bite the dust - or rather, the mud and slush. A combination of wind, mud and rain has me on the skating rink to nowhere. I'm not hurt, fortunately, but it is a struggle to get enough purchase to stand up again, even with PC's help. 

No harm done, so we continue carefully down the slope towards the Speedwell Cavern car park. From here there is a pavement to lead us safely back to the cars. However, looking over our shoulders we see a storm coming, and our final stroll becomes a rush to get back before it reaches us. 

Hail and sleet, driven by the battering gale, hits just as we are getting into the cars. Within a couple of minutes the windscreen is white rimmed and visibility is down to a couple of hundred yards. It would be safe to say that we have made it back in the nick of time.

THE GREAT RIDGE

A brilliantly sunny day at home boded well but driving towards Castleton the clouds gathered, the sun disappeared and the windscreen wipers came on. Mam Tor, our destination, was hidden by the murk.

We meet in Castleton's car park (good loos) and we're both in cropped grousers anticipating good weather. Ah well.

We don't stay in Castleton but drive up the road to park near Winnat's Pass which will be closer to our finishing point. The parking here is free on non-holiday weekdays too.



Togged up against the weather, fleeces and jumpers, we set off in the drizzle. There are plenty of school trips about today, a sure sign that it's coming to the end of the school year and the teachers want the kids out of the way. We pass the old entrance to the Odin Mine on our left looking very Tolkein-ish and we continue along the road which eventually disappears thanks to the gradual disintegration of the Shivering Mountain as Mam Tor is known (though we think it's shivering because of the cold).



We don't follow the line of the old road but veer onto the right hand path which skirts Mam Farm and heads up to Hollins Cross. It's warmed up by now so we take off our top layers and continue our rambling discussion on proms, concerts, fashion, art and all the things that concern two intellectual women like ourselves!



Before we reach Hollins Cross the sun makes an appearance - yippee - but so does a crowd of school kids on a collision course with us on another path. We pause to let them, and their harassed looking teachers, get out of the way before heading up to the cross to enjoy the views. Edale has opened up below us with Grindslow Knott featuring prominently but with wonderful views across the Kinder range.

We decide to sit down for a coffee and a chat. There's no rush as we're making excellent time. Naturally our talk turns to food, all the good things we've been eating (and shouldn't have) and all the things we want (but won't because we're good - honest). Cream buns, chocolate, heavy salads, cakes - there's only one way to describe this. Food Porn.

We pick ourselves up, shake ourselves off and set off towards the peak that is Mam Tor. The ridge path is paved because it is so well walked making it resemble a Roman Road. Last time we were here the path was swarming with ants, this time its swarming with school kids as well as plenty of other walkers enjoying the day.

It's windier and cooler as we near the top of Mam Tor, which is the site of an Iron Age hill fort, and as we approach the top point we notice that in the cobbles some wonderful bronze plaques
have bee set into them each one depicting a different aspect of Iron Age life: a round house, a sword, a plough, a mask, a shield and a torq.

It's hard to imagine life up here a couple of thousand years ago, but it is clearly a brilliantly defensible position and the hand-dug ramparts - still clearly visible in parts - are and amazing feat of human endeavour and engineering. The 360 degree panorama certainly means that no enemies would be able to creep up unannounced and the chieftain would feel as though he was the lord of all he surveyed.

We enjoy the views along the Great Ridge to Hollins Cross, Back Tor, Lose Hill and beyond to the triangular mound of Win Hill. Beyond Stanage Edge stretches for miles. Sweeping around we see the ever-intrusive blot of the cement works - surely the ugliest eyesore in the Peak District - then Peveril Castle and Winnats Pass before skimming the flattened landscape heading towards Sparrowpit and Chapel en le Frith before finding Rushup Edge and the undulations of the Kinder Range. What a view!

We go downhill to avoid the wind and find somewhere for lunch, at last settling on Mam Tor's flanks. We break out the food which is mundane, until we reach the buns. This is hard-core food porn so feel free to avert your eyes. Shortcake pastry cases filled with a creamy custard and topped with fresh strawberries. They smell and taste of summer and are eaten in reverential - if slightly guilty - silence. We wait a while before drinking the coffee as we want to savour the lingering taste of summer for as long as possible.

All is bliss until I'm either stung or bitten on the palm of my hand by some vengeful insect which leaves me we a black bruise reminiscent of Jack Sparrow's black spot in Pirates of the Caribbean. I shan't be taking any boat trips for a while.

We head downhill, cross the road and skirt the inappropriately named Windy Knoll before heading down Winnat's Pass. Looking back, Mam Tor seems impossibly high.

The first part of Winnat's Pass is a bit of a trial as we have to share the road with cars, but once over the cattle grip we can go off road where we scramble down the rocks, pause to sniff the wild thyme and look at the flora. From here its a wide grassy slope with the magnificent rock formations towering above us on either side. The rocks contain fossils from the time all this was beneath an ancient sea. It's hard to imagine it. Somewhere above us is the so-called Lovers' Leap, but it's hard to tell which one you have to jump off, they all look pretty lethal.

By the time we reach the Speedwell Cavern car park there are loads of cars and people about, and all we have to do is hop across the fields to our cars. Despite the grim early start the day has turned out well and we've even ended up with a bit of a suntan to show for it.