PERISHING COLD ON THE GREAT RIDGE

With the heavy snow we have had we decided we really needed to go somewhere that wouldn't be a quagmire. So we headed to Castleton with the Great Ridge in our sights.

It's the school holidays, half term, and since we neither of us have children of school age anymore it comes as a bit of surprise to see so many cars about. However, most are heading for the attractions of the caves and we park on the road close to the bottom of Winnats Pass from where we can see Hang Gliders off the top of Mam Tor.


We decide on walking up the pass, something we rarely do given how steep it is, and as we get higher we remind ourselves why it is such a rarity!

At the top we are on the road for a short distance but cross over to go through a gate that will take us across a field rather than sticking to the road. There's still some snow up here, not surprising really, and it is bitterly cold.

Once through the gate at the far side it is the pull up the slope of Mam Tor in a couple of stages. The last part, the anti-erosion steps up to the summit, is where we really start to feel the wind chill, so we edge to the side and find a sheltered area inside one of the old ramparts to eat lunch and warm ourselves up with coffee. Lemon Meringue pies for bun today. They are certainly very tangy but they need ungloved fingers to eat so they are consumed quickly. It certainly isn't a day to linger, and as soon as we have done we are off again.

The last stretch up to the summit is very busy, as is the area aroundn the trig point, but we pass on by, pleased to be moving. A number of people are coming towards us from the opposite direction and they all, without exception, have bright red, wind-blown faces. It is really extremely cold, the wind having a massive effect.

We keep moving, as swiftly as possible, until we reach Hollins Cross and take the right hand path downhill. The difference is amazing, within a few feet the wind drops and it is noticeably warmer. We decide to slow down a bit!

It is a steep and rocky path down, with a boggy bit about half way which requires some nimble footwork, then we are down to the gate onto the old narrow lane. As expected there is mud and running water here, but not an excessive amount.

A straight walk not into the back of Castleton, through the car park and up the road to the cars. We have avoided most of the mud and slush today, which is good, but we certainly felt the cold due to the wind.

ENCORE WINNATS PASS

For some reason we always seem to gravitate towards Castleton when the weather is grim, and today is no exception. But it would be nice to see the area in nice weather for once!

We meet, as usual, in the big car park where there is only one coachload of unfortunate schoolchildren today. This place is a Mecca for school groups, either from primary schools or those doing GCSEs and A levels. From this car park we head up the road towards Mam Tor where we can park on the roadside for free during the week.

It is cold but at least the early rain has stopped so we don't feel the need for the full waterproof gear. We don't have Mollie today though, as she has moved house and PC isn't quite sure where she lives now. 
 

We hadn't planned a route before arriving here so we have a quick discussion, decide on something not too ambitious due to time constraints, and head on up towards Winnats Pass to do a familiar walk, but in reverse.

And by the time we are pulling up the steep grass verge of the pass we remember why we usually come down instead of up!

One thing that we did see on our way up, that we usually miss as we slip and slide our normal descent, is this commemoration plaque dedicated to those who campaigned for our national parks and public access. It is worth remembering, and being thankful, that without these forward-thinking and hardy people we would not be enjoying our hiking as we do.

The water is running down the road and the verge in small rivulets so it is pretty heavy going walking up the steep hill whilst trying to maintain our footing. At least it isn't windy though, and it is good to see the views in the opposite direction.

We take a gate onto a path that runs beside a stone wall and climbs through a field adjacent to the road. We usually emerge from a gate higher up, we had never noticed this before - another sign of how different things can be in reverse order.

Careful of the slippery limestone underfoot we come out back onto the road just before the cattle grid then continue up to the main road where, after a brief discussion, we turn right. We keep on the road then go right again towards the Blue John Cavern. This is a road that goes nowhere, the old road destroyed by the Shivering Mountain, yet there are still a few cars trying their luck, then turning around. The cavern doesn't seem to be doing much business.

We find a bench with a good view (which sadly includes the cement works) and settle down to eat, drink and gossip. But first we layer up. There is a keen breeze up here which, coupled with the cold temperatures, is biting.

A nip from PC's flask warms us up, then it is coffee, sandwiches and lovely gooey fresh cream choux buns. The buns can make anything worthwhile!

We sit talking for a while but eventually the cold gets too much so we pack up and set off again, this time we are going down the destroyed road. At one point we wonder how we usually get up it as there just appears to be a huge drop, but the footpath is at the side and is a gentle route. Again, it is surprising how different somewhere familiar can appear when approached from the opposite direction.
 

We wonder if the road has shifted some more since our last walk here. It is hard to tell, and it may just be our different approach, but it seems to have moved a bit.

Despite the murkiness, though, we do have splendid views over to the Great Ridge.

Eventually we are back on stable tarmac, although that too appears to be a little more undulating than last time. We have a good view of the rear of the old Odin Mine which looks like a promising place to look at some time in the future.

The gateway to the area in front of the mine is a mini-lake but we decide to go and have a closer look. We find that, not only is the gateway a paddling pool, but the whole grassy area is waterlogged and we have to skirt around it on slightly higher ground to avoid being soaked.

The path behind the mine entrance looks intreguing but doesn't appear to go anywhere. Exploration today, though, is out of the question. We do clamber up to the main mine entrance to have a nosey, but it is dark and eerie. Perhaps another time.

From here we backtrack and it is only a steady walk downhill, past Treak Cliff Cavern, towards our cars. It hasn't been a terribly long walk but already the light is leeching out of the sky. Getting home to the warm feels like a very good idea.

BETWEEN THE MOUNTAIN AND THE FLOOD IN EDALE

The heavy snow at the weekend, despite it having melted away with amazing speed, has left us in a bit of a quandary. Walking low level is going to mean soggy feet and a miserable slog through boggy, muddy ground. But the wind is blowing pretty fiercely so high ground, as we know to our cost, is likely to be uncomfortable, if not dangerous.

So, we meet up in Castleton to debate the options and consult the map. We don't want the high road or the low road, just something in between. There is still some snow here, snuggled in pockets under walls and in the lee of hedges, and chalking the folds of the hills.

At last we make up our minds and return to our cars for the interesting drive up Winnats Pass (why do cars on the way down think they have the right to drive in the middle of the road?) then turning right, left and right again until we climb up and over the pass between Mam Tor and Rushup Edge before winding carefully down the steep road to Edale. The view that opens out as you crest the ridge and start the descent is nothing short of amazing. Pity we can't take photos whilst driving.

When we reach the valley bottom at Barber Booth we take the tiny road at the side of the River Noe, hope we don't meet any cars coming the other way, then park up in the small deserted car park. All we need to do now is kit up and get walking.

Yes, it is bitterly cold, there is the promise of rain and there's more snow on the hills in this valley, but we set off up the tarmac road with an air of expectation. We're familiar with short sections of today's walk, but not with the whole of it, and we do like going somewhere new.

The road takes us as far as Upper Booth where we take the right hand path through the cluster of buildings around a yard, following the line of the Pennine Way. A flamboyant cockerel struts around almost begging to be photographed.

We round a corner where some sheep are penned then hit the well-worn Pennine Way track. In places the track is muddy and flooded with run-off from the hills - so much for us picking a dry route - but it isn't too bad. Mollie paddles through the extensive puddles without a care for her dirty paws or soggy undercarriage.

The wet patches don't last long, and we're soon reasonably dry shod again as the path climbs fairly gently. There are plenty of sheep grazing in these low-level fields, which means that Mollie can't be let off the lead for a run, but that doesn't stop her running as far as the lead will allow.

We crest a small grassy mound beneath the bulk of Broadlee-Bank Tor and are immediately assaulted by a fierce wind that almost blows us backwards. It must channel up the valley and gain enough momentum to really hammer this slightly exposed spot. We manage to take a few photographs, the sunlight is playing hide and seek in between the clouds and it is illuminating the landscape in snatches, bringing out contrasts in colour and form.

Pressing on we dip slightly and lose a little of the wind, and when we come to a stand of trees with conveniently contorted branches that will serve as a bench, we stop for a nip from the secret flask. It's a struggle to open the lid but eventually we succeed and have a couple of warming drinks of Ramblers Restorative. This is the last of the batch but never fear, I have more maturing in the kitchen at home so we won't be deprived of it for long.

Feeling warmed and mellow we continue and soon come to where the Park Authority have deemed it necessary to put large stone flags on the path. It's probably a good idea, this part of the route must carry a lot of foot traffic being so close to Edale, but it does feel out of character. But that is the price so many routes have to pay now that walking is such a popular recreational pursuit.

We gently drop down towards Grindsbrook Booth and come to a decision. It is almost lunch time and we want to eat out of the way. There are walkers coming down the path off Grindslow Knoll and we decide that 'up there' will be a good spot to stop before heading back towards Barber Booth.

Mmm, we'd forgotten how deceptively steep this wide grassy path is and are reminded again why we have never walked up Grindslow Knoll this way. However, today we're only going as far as the Open Access boundary before turning left and following the wall until we find a fairly sheltered spot and a tussocky mound to sit on.

We settle down with our sandwiches (and Mollie with her biscuits) then enjoy a warming coffee. Heavy clouds are gathering but we ignore them as the buns are brought out. Danish pastries with custard and almonds. Very nice, and almost a healthy option! PC starts her bun after me, but finishes first. It is amazing how quickly she can demolish anything sweet and fattening - or maybe it's because I spend too much time talking.

After a second coffee we feel a few drops of rain so pull on our waterproof trousers before we set off again. Fortunately the rain doesn't last long, but the wind has renewed its efforts and is really making itself felt.

Our original intention had been to walk down to Edale village and partway along the road, but instead we've chosen to follow the access boundary (and narrow but distinct hillside path) to avoid traffic.

After a while we are beginning to question our choice. We have to cross a very muddy stream, which really is only a minor inconvenience, but soon we are on the steep hillside and feel as though we really ought to have one leg shorter than the other. The path is very narrow, meaning each footstep has to be directly in front of the last (models may do it on the catwalk with ease, but not on a steep hillside - and we aren't models), the wind is pushing us around and Mollie can't make up her mind whether to walk in front, pull to investigate sheep or stop and refuse to move.

Eventually, though, the path begins to drop and we make our way down to a gate in the wall which takes us back towards the Pennine Way. Soon we're back on our outward path, but returning towards Upper Booth.

When we get there the cockerel is there to greet us, along with a small harem of hens, and as before he seems very pleased with himself.

It's an easy walk along the road and back to the cars, although the tiny car park is just about full. As soon as we've managed to remove our gear and get in the car the heavens open. Our timing was perfect, for a change.

SERIOUSLY SOGGY AROUND CASTLETON

A Wet Return After An Unexpectedly Long Break

It feels as though it's been forever since we last managed to get out on a walk (or posted on the blog), and it's been a grim few weeks. My father died in May, which would have been hard to deal with at any time, but his death fell right in the middle of school exams which made it particularly difficult for everyone. Now, however, despite still having a lot of sorting out to do we seem to be returning to something like normal. The exams are over (GCSEs for mine, A levels for PC's - and NO, they are NOT getting easier despite the media/political whinging) and we are all breathing a huge collective sigh of relief. Of course, now we have to wait for results day...

But for today we are determined to chill, and given the amount of rain falling on the drive to Castleton, chill is exactly what we will experience.

After a brief stop in the car park (excellent loos but coach loads of school trippers) we drive up towards Winnats Pass and the side of road parking spaces (free in the week, charges bank holidays and weekends). Then it's time to don all our wet weather gear. Admittedly we are currently in a 'window' without rain, but we're not expecting it to last. We debate on whether to take the brolly or not, PC has become a huge fan of it as a lunch shelter (she doesn't have to carry it!) so I relent and drag it out of the boot. Then we're off. Freedom!

This is a walk we've done before, but never in this direction, and we've chosen it because of its relative ease and time constraints. We set off up towards Winnats Pass, grateful that there is a pavement and surprised at how many cars are emerging from the mist on the pass. We haven't gone far before it starts to rain - the 'window' was obviously a small one.

The low cloud clinging to the tops of the cliffs looming over the pass stops looking pretty and begins to turn ominous, a long smothering blanket of grey. By the time we've passed the entrance to Speedwell Cavern the rain has turned torrential and the umbrella goes up. This could be distinctly unpleasant, but we're distracted by the amount we have to talk about and catch up on.

It's hard going today, a sign that we've lost a great amount of our fitness with the enforced break, but the weather (and balancing a big umbrella that we're both trying to stay under) isn't helping. We're actually walking in the misty murk now so even if the rain does stop (no promises there) we're still going to get a soaking. Good job we have all our wet weather gear.
Not much point stopping to admire the view - there isn't one - but we do have to be careful as we pick our way over the limestone outcrops near the cattle grid at the top of the pass, they are extremely slick and slippery in the wet.

By the time we reach Winnats Head Farm we can no long pretend that it's misty. This is fog, and not very pleasant when we need to walk a section on the road.

We follow the left hand main road then go through the gate on the left on the path signed Rowter Farm. We're into serious fog now, and are only aware of a farm truck coming towards us because we can hear it, it's invisible until it's almost on top of us. The rain has eased a little, not that it's much consolation. The sheep are looking as soggy as we feel. At least the track is straight and easy to walk on.

We pass the farm on our left (can't see it through the fog!) and continue straight on through a gate. There's a field full of buttercups on our right, and swallows skimming over the surface, but all we can see ahead is fog. We continue, we can't go wrong, surely. 


When you can't see where you're going everything seems to take so much longer and we begin to doubt that we're on the right path. Then, ahead, we see cows. I spot them first (my natural aversion to them obviously means that I am attuned to their presence) and we're a few yards further along before PC sees them. Fortunately they're behind a wall and gate, but PC stops to photo them. There haven't been many photo opportunities today.

Still the path seems unfamiliar, though we reason that we can't have gone wrong. After skirting some seriously large puddles we wrestle with another gate and find the left hand turning that we wanted. Of course we were on the right path, we knew it all along!

We wonder if this bit will be tricky - thick fog and a barren field to cross. But fortunately the wide, grassy path is clear enough (it is part of the Limestone Way) and we're able to progress confidently, brolly held aloft. The path slopes down and we're on the familiar, one-way track leading down towards Cave Dale and Castleton.

It's lunch time, but the rain is hammering (nothing new) and we would like somewhere a little sheltered before we stop to eat. Before we start the descent into Cave Dale we clamber up to our left and find ourselves a comfortable(ish) ledge to sit on with rocks behind us. After much juggling we manage to position the brolly over us and fetch out our supplies.

Naturally we start off with a warming nip from the Secret Flask. It's a mixture of Ramblers and Cointreau (long story) and is very good, just what we need to brighten up a chilly day. We follow this with the first cup of coffee (looks strange but tastes fine) then the sandwiches. Talk about working up an appetite. It's PCs turn to supply the buns and she's brought wonderful, gooey, rich chocolate muffins. They are excellent, and we'd almost forgotten the joys of eating special buns out in the open. What a treat. We finish off with another coffee, and despite the continuing rain we pack up to go, conscious of having to be early.

The walk down Cave Dale is interesting. The path, slippery limestone at the best of times, has deteriorated into a river bed, something we'd suspected might happen, so we're having to be especially careful. The Dale does look wonderfully atmospheric, though, with Peveril Castle perched high on the rocks like an avenging eagle.

It doesn't take us too long to reach the bottom of the Dale, which is always dark and gloomy, then we're out into Castleton.

A group of schoolchildren are huddled around the cross, soggy papers in hand, looking very miserable. We march straight past heading back to the cars.

Naturally, as we head back the rain eases, and by the time we reach the cars the sun is even making an effort to emerge. Meanwhile we're steaming as the temperature increases. (It doesn't last, by the time we're driving home it's pouring again.)

Despite the weather it has been a good, much needed, therapeutic walk. Fingers crossed we'll be out again, somewhere, next week.

And if you were wondering where Mollie is, she's off on her holidays with her owners. She'll be back soon.

ALONG THE RIDGE TO LOSE HILL

After our great walk last week we decided that we really ought to carry on along the Great Ridge and go to visit Lose Hill so, in a repeat of last week, we meet up in Castleton (for the conveniences) then drive up the road to park past the turn off to Winnats Pass, close to Treak Cliff Cavern.

We're lucky, again, as we've managed to arrange for another fine day. Not quite so clear as last week, nor as mild, but an excellent walking day. We have to layer up against the wind but we're soon setting off up the road in good spirits. We haven't gone far (we're just across from the car park for Treak Cliff Cavern) when we spot a nuthatch in a tree, its plumage beautiful. It hops up and down oblivious to us, but as soon as PC has her camera ready it disappears. Obviously camera shy!

We're taking a familiar route today, past Odin Mine (a protected archaeological site) and its adjacent crushing circle which produced lead ore for a considerable length of time, along the old road then off on the path to the right near Mam Farm.

There hasn't been much rain lately but the narrow path is quite slick and slippery. PC pauses to remove a layer, we are going steadily uphill, and we pause to admire some vivid orange toadstools.There are sections of this path that are always boggy, and although we negotiate the first stretch easily the second is more problematical. Whilst PC pauses to take a photo of the view I forge ahead and after some nifty footwork manage to stand on uneven muddy ground which takes my feet from me. Fortunately I put out a hand to save myself, which sinks wrist deep into mud, but at least I haven't sat in it! Naturally, PC crosses without a hitch.

Once I've washed the muddy glove in a stream we carry on up the slope towards Hollins Cross.

We really aren't finding these climbs as difficult as we used to, which much be a good sign. At the top we pause to enjoy the far reaching views ahead to Edale, then decide it's time to sit down for a coffee, so we make our way to the shelter of a wall and the place we'd sat last week.

First out is the Ramblers Restorative - not that we need restoring just yet, but there are other treats in store for later in the walk and we don't want to miss out on our 'fix'. After sampling the warm, fuzzy glow left by the Ramblers we then have a coffee. PC's turn to make it today, which means it's scalding hot and the cups are too hot to hold.

While we sit waiting for the coffee to cool, and enjoying the view, and talking, a large group comes along the path from Mam Tor and turns down towards Edale. "Don't look now," says PC, "but they have Tigger with them." Sure enough, when I am allowed to look, there is Tigger, bouncing away down the path, and there seems to be a polar bear too. Well, at least they seem to be warm!Once the coffee is finished we pack up and set off again, this time up Barker Bank towards Back Tor.

This seems to be the busy time of day as there are quite a few people on the path here, most are coming towards us and most have come down Back Tor. As we approach the path veering off to the left towards the Tor a large dog comes snuffling up behind us, nudging the back of our legs. its owners completely unconcerned. It's a good job we aren't dog-phobic, and the hound seems genuinely docile, but it could quite easily have given someone a fright - and it's a shame the owners aren't very considerate of other walkers or of sheep.

Instead of going up Back Tor we decide to take the lower path which goes through Brockett Booth Plantation instead. A deliberate break in the trees would provide an excellent view of Peveril Castle if the sun wasn't shining so brightly in our eyes, but it isn't bright enough to block the view of the hideous Cement Works. Will we never be rid of the blight.

At the other side of the woods we clamber over a stile and cross some fields. The height of Lose Hill is ahead of us but we are skirting around its base first to approach from the SE. One stile forces us to perform near miraculous feats of athleticism to climb over it, as it seems it was made for giraffe-legged people, not mere mortals such as us.

Soon we're at the base of Lose Hill with the long 'flight of steps' leering down at us. There's nothing for it but to grit our teeth and go for it.

We surprise ourselves. With only a couple of stops (to admire the views, of course) we make it almost to the top. With the wind howling we decide to stop for lunch before reaching the summit to avoid being blown about too much, and we skirt around to the eastern side of the hill where the wind is barely a breeze and we can see for miles.

Out comes lunch - a celebration lunch as PC's birthday is approaching. 21 again! Sandwiches are accompanied by a glass (actually a plastic cup, but it doesn't sound so good) of red wine - very welcome. Then it's time for the special birthday bun. Excessively high calorie Belgian Chocolate Cheesecake complete with a white chocolate swirl on top. Under normal circumstances it would be too rich and too fattening, but somehow today it has the Goldilocks factor. It is just right!

After the wine and the bun it is very tempting to just sit and talk (and maybe have an afternoon nap) but time forces us on. We clamber up the side of the hill and once away from the cosy wind-free picnic spot we are hammered by the full force of the wind. Wow, it really has increased in strength, and has become bitterly cold too.We don't linger on the summit but press on down the ridge to a slightly less buffeted spot where we drag on an extra layer. Feeling warmer we continue on the path. There's hardly anyone out now and we have the strange sensation of having the whole ridge to ourselves.

As we make our way very carefully down the steep, rugged slope of Back Tor, we're talking about ballroom dancing. Probably not appropriate under the circumstances.

At the bottom of the Tor we take the path leading away from the ridge and downhill, and by now we're onto the subject of posh frocks. Not that we have a great deal of experience of posh frocks, but we share what experiences we have endured.

This track takes us to the Hollowford Road gate, exactly where we'd been last week, and all we have to do now is follow the same route to Castleton then back to the cars. In Castleton some of the Christmas trees are already lit up, and it's a pity we don't have the time to wait until dusk as we're sure it must look lovely.

As we press on up the road to the cars we make our plans for our next walk. Not for next week, family commitments, but the week after. Fingers crossed the weather will be kind again.

THE RIDGE IN REVERSE

WINNATS PASS TO MAM TOR - UPHILL FIRST

On planning today's walk we realised that, although it is one of our favourites, we had never done it in reverse.

To remedy this oversight we meet up in Castleton (good loos) then drive along up the road to park near the Speedwell Cavern car park (no parking fees on the road except for weekends and bank holidays). We're quite giddy with excitement, the sky is brilliantly clear and blue with hardly a cloud in sight. And the shadows cast by the early sunlight are nothing short of spectacular sending the limestone sculptures of the rocks into sharp relief.

Another relief is that PC has brought a rucksack today - no need for me to carry double then!

And one more thing PC has brought is a bottle of Cointreau. No, the plan isn't to drink our way down it through the day (though it is tempting) but to fill up the secret flask. However, there's no need. There's still plenty of Ramblers Restorative in the flask, and it doesn't do to mix spirits, so instead we have a nip before we set off. Gorgeous. Just like breakfast orange juice, but with a glow.

Glowing, we set off along the footpath which crosses the field between the road and the Speedwell Caverns site. The grass is sodden with early morning dew so we get a little damp, and at the top we come out onto an area which is being tarmacked. As we gingerly tip toe across the still warm and springy surface someone hurries out of the shop opposite to stick signs on the footpath gate to say it is shut. So we were just in time, then, but we were given some resentful looks by the workmen.

Now it's all uphill. We usually come down Winnats in the afternoon at the end of our walk, and it is really good to see it in different light and from a different perspective. We notice things we've not seen before, like a huge fallen gatepost which would make a wonderful seat for weary walkers. We, naturally, aren't that weary, though the uphill is keeping us warm (or maybe that's the cointreau).

In a surprisingly short length of time we find ourselves at the top of the pass and adjacent to Winnats Head Farm. That was pretty painless but we don't congratulate ourselves too soon, we've plenty more uphill climbing to do.

We cross over the road and head for the footpath crossing Windy Knoll. There are two horses in the adjacent field, dozing in the sunshine, but they both manage to perk up when they see us, ever hopeful that a stray polo mint may come their way. They're disappointed, so we give them a consolation pat and continue on our way.

The disused quarry on our right is in deep shadow as we head for the gate onto the road. Up to now we've been discussing all things educational including recent parents' evening, prize giving events and the ways schools seem to want to celebrate mediocrity over genuine achievement. It's good to be able to let off steam (my turn this week) as we are then able to approach life with an enhanced sense of calm. It just shows how beneficial walking can be. Once across the road we're starting the long, steady climb up the slopes of Mam Tor. Since we're still talking (to be honest, we rarely stop talking) we hardly notice the steepness of the slope and we're at the base of the 'staircase' to the Mam Tor summit before we know it. We pause for a breather and to admire the far reaching views. And the view of the cement works!

Now we start the steady climb up the well maintained steps up the hill. Inset into some of the steps are small brass plaques - we see a torq then one of a roundhouse. We've never noticed this one before (probably because we've always been going downhill and gathering speed) and it is particularly fine, so PC takes a picture.

Again, it takes us very little time to reach the summit but rather than go up to the trig point where everyone and their grandmothers seem to be gathering, we skirt the top hunting for a hollow in which to sit out of the wind and enjoy a coffee. Yes, the sun is shining and the sky is clear, but up here there's a stiff breeze blowing. We're unsuccessful on the Edale side of the slope so we cross over to hunt out somewhere on the Castleton side. We drop down a way to where the side of the hill has slipped away, peer cautiously over the edge, then find a convenient sitting place where the hillside has dipped but not yet fallen. We hope our weight won't provide the incentive for it to head downwards!

Naturally the secret flask comes out. After all, we have something to celebrate, we've done all the climbing well before lunch and with relatively little effort. We must be getting fitter, so a couple of nips of the Ramblers Restorative is our reward. Then we have a coffee and a natter (yes, we're still talking) whilst enjoying the view.

It's a wonderful wide vista from here and we can see for miles. The only blot is the ugly cement works - how on earth did they get permission to build such an eyesore? In its heyday Peveril Castle, whitewashed to stand out and be noticed, would have been considered ugly (and very threatening), but in no way could it compete with the monstrosity of the cement works.

By the time we've mused on the landscape, spotted a heron wading in a large puddle and watched a group of children way below us, no doubt on a geography field trip, we've passed enough time to consider getting out the sandwiches. Maybe it's a bit early (but not before noon, we don't want to upset the Picnic Police) but it seems preferable to eat now while we're comfortable than try to find a better spot. However, once the sandwiches are eaten we decide to wait a while for the buns (extreme willpower in force here) so we pack up and set off once more.

It's a long steady walk down towards Hollins Cross with us going against the flow of people. Most of them are puffing on their way up, which makes us feel quite smug. We have spectacular views to Lose Hill and Back Tor but by the time we reach Hollins Cross all we can think about are the buns. So we fine ourselves a wind free hollow on the Edale side and settle down. The buns today are fresh cream apple turnovers; just enough tart in the apples to balance the sugar on the top of the pastry and one of our five a day! They go down extremely well, along with another coffee, and we're glad that we waited a while for them.

After a long, lazy break we go back up to Hollins Cross and take the path that leads to the Hollowford Road. We've never been on this stretch of the path before and we're glad we're not doing it in the wet. Although it has been paved and repaired the steps are uneven and, in places, narrow which means we have to watch where we are putting our feet. It's also quite steep and is one of those cases where it is probably better going uphill than down. A couple pass us in a bit of a lather; they have half an hour to get to Castleton to catch their bus. We wish them luck and dawdle to let them get well ahead of us.

We come off the moor and onto the narrow gully which is the top part of Hollowford Road. It's narrow and running with water, but much better than the one and only time we'd been on this path before when it had been extremely muddy and very wet. At the bottom we come out onto a tarmac lane and pause to read an information board pointing out landmarks and explaining that we'd been on the 'coffin road' from Edale to Castleton from the time before Edale had its own church.

We wander down the road and are soon, seamlessly, back in the centre of Castleton. As we walk through the village we look in a few of the shops selling their Blue John jewellery before heading up the road towards our cars. The sun is dipping behind the hills now and the warmth is suddenly sucked out of the day. All the wonderful shadows and contrasts are gone and Winnats Pass is mired in gloom once again.

We're pleased we've done this reverse walk, it's meant that we've been able to look on it all with fresh eyes. And what's even better, we aren't even tired.

LOSE SOME - NOT QUITE A CIRCUIT AND NOT COMPLETELY DRY

We're doing something very sensible for this walk, although we tend to consider it a bit of a cheat. We meet up at the base of Winnats Pass, abandon one car, transfer rucksacks, walking gear and bodies (ours) into the other car, then drive to Hope where we park and get ready to walk.

We start off along Edale Road which is narrow enough to provide some close encounters with a few passing vehicles, but it's the kind of easy, level walking that's just right for warming up the muscles.

Just before we reach Townhead Bridge we take the left hand track which leads, not surprisingly, to Townhead and, ultimately, Lose Hill. We pause to admire a garden's flourishing patch of Bears Britches (Acanthus spinosus) before pressing on up the gentle incline. As we come to a fork in the track, and knowing we need the left hand path, we see a group of half a dozen teenage lads sorting out their gear. On seeing us they hurry up and continue on their way, no doubt expecting to outstrip us easily. We expect them to outstrip us easily too.

We pause to remove a layer, it is warm and despite a few smatterings of rain we don't want to don waterproofs, then continue up hill. A short while later - and it is a short while - we reach the stile which takes us onto an enclosed track. The stile is decorated with half a dozen resting teenagers. We can almost hear their groans of horror as they pick up their rucksacks and stagger over the stile as we wait for them to get a move on.

We give them a couple of minutes start before we follow. The track feels very old, hollowed out by the passage of many feet with banks at either side and arching trees meeting overhead like the soaring columns of a natural cathedral. We have splendid views across the valley and can clearly see the line of the old Roman Road on the opposite hill.

It's a steady pull up this track and we pause a number of times to admire the view - and to let the boys ahead get out of the way. They are really very slow.

Eventually we see the top of the track where, once through a gate, the path emerges onto open moorland in the final pull up to Lose Hill. When we pass through the narrow gate we find the boys laid out on the damp grass looking rather the worse for wear. We, naturally, nimbly skip past them and power up the next patch of ground, just to show them how it should be done.

We pause to admire a stand of foxgloves (yes, and to get our breath back, we're not made for power-walking) then continue to meander up the very steep hill. We're above the trees here and the views are extensive, reaching all the way along the first loop of the Edale valley. We do keep looking back, still no sign of the boys.

Naturally, we have a few pauses on the way uphill, no point in rushing and missing the view. After a while the boys come into range again, only for them to all collapse in a heap once more. This sorry sight is repeated a few times on the way up. They obviously didn't have their Weetabix for breakfast!

We, on the other hand, are making excellent time, so we decide to stop and have a drink and a bun. Ah yes, it's turned into a double bun day purely by accident. It's PCs turn for coffee, but she wasn't sure so brought buns as well - just in case. Being my turn for buns I'd brought buns and had also remembered to fill the secret flask (with the last of the Ramblers Restorative, I must make some more). So we sit and enjoy a nip from the flask, some coffee and a fresh cream scone.

(Whilst doing so the boys - after another rest 20 yards south of us - manage to stagger past us to rest, again, 20 yards north of us. They eat lunch in almost total silence, the lack of noise suggesting they have little breath left for talking.)

Dark clouds are looming so we decide to press on - having ascertained that the boys have already gone before and have a good enough lead for us not to catch up with them again. It was beginning to get embarrassing - for them!

As we reach the final stile on the route to the summit we do the sensible thing and pull on our waterproofs. The wind is starting to make itself felt and the dark clouds are racing across the sky. It all looks very dramatic.

Sure enough, the heavens open, but not for long. We could have managed without the waterproofs, but now they're on we'll leave them for a while. The sky hasn't cleared and we could be in for more rain.

By the time we reach the summit of Lose Hill we have a magnificent 360 degree view around us, including of Win Hill, the Great Ridge and Mam Tor, Castleton, and the less than impressive cement works. And the sun is shining too. This is what walking is all about.

Descending from the summit is quite direct and height is lost quickly. The path is fenced in by post and wire on one side and a semi-dilapidated stone wall on the other. For some odd reason there are large way-marking cairns at the side of the path, pretty pointless as it would be almost impossible to lose your way on this part.

As we cross the ridge we can see the dark clouds gathering again at the head of Edale and the telltale signs of rainfall at Grindsbrook. Then it all turns very eerie. As the rain starts to sweep down the valley the cloud drops and everything is completely obscured behind a sheet of white.

Its like looking through a fog, or a blizzard, but turning eyes right we can still see bright sunshine at the other end of the valley.

Then the rain hits us. Wow, it really means it. Thank goodness we'd kept out wet-weather gear on as we definitely need it. It's still pouring as we start our decent of Back Tor but thankfully it starts to ease off as we pick our way down the rocky hill being especially careful now that it's turned slippery.

By the time we reach the bottom the rain has stopped and we climb over the stile as the sun breaks out again. And when the sun shines it really is warm, and a bit steamy too.

It's been a while since the bun stop so we find a good place for lunch using some flat stones on top of the dry stone wall. It's very comfortable with a good view down to Castleton, although it isn't that easy to pick out the castle. After sandwiches, though, we decide to carry on before having coffee and second buns (do we sound like Hobbits?) so we walk to Hollins Cross narrowly missing a group of teenagers (no, not the same ones - they've disappeared off the face of the earth) then take the path down towards the base of Mam Tor.

Eventually we find a comfortable mound to sit on where we while away the time drinking coffee and eating fresh cream chocolate muffins. We feel as though we deserve them. In the distance we see yet more school groups enjoying the great outdoors and down on the Castleton Road, there are at least half a dozen coaches parked, with probably more in the main car park. It seems as though every school trip, Duke of Edinburgh outing and groups of Lost Boys has congregated here today.

We check our watches and realise that we need to get a move on. We dispense with the waterproofs, the sun is out and everything has warmed up dramatically, and we make our way over a couple of boggy patches to the remains of the old road, most of which has been destroyed by the Shivering Mountain.

As we walk down the road to car number one (narrowly avoiding being run over by a coach) we start to sniff. Not because we have a cold, or hayfever, but because there is a wonderful, sweet smell. We study the hedgerows, peer over walls - nothing. Then inspiration strikes. Plucking a clover flower we discover the source of the perfume. Red and white clover on the sparse grass verges are almost impossibly fragrant. Neither of us have ever been aware of the sweet smell of this common weed.

All too soon we're back in the car and driving through the heaving main road of Castleton towards Hope where we're reunited with car number two. It's been an excellent walk and it's been a good way of doing it. We'll have to cheat a little more often.