STEEPLY UP AND GENTLY DOWN

A CIRCUIT FROM CHATSWORTH TO BEELEY AND BEYOND

We've met up (eventually - after getting lost somewhere above Matlock!) in the car park at Chatsworth, after negotiating the very poor signs into the car park (OK, so I went in the exit) and paying our £2. We both remember the days when it was free.

Today we are following another of our 'revisited' walks, one we haven't done in a very long time, and fortunately the weather seems to be willing to be a little kinder to us than last week. Still, PC is taking no chances and duly pulls on her waterproof trousers and woolly hat. I'm going to risk it.

The first trip is a quick visit to the garden centre loos where, as I wait for PC, I am being out stared by a frog. I don't like frogs. I dislike them almost as much as cows. So it is with great relief (no pun intended) that we set off.

Exiting the garden centre car park we gasp at the price label on a Betula jacquemontii and escape by taking a right hand turn down the bank through the trees. Almost immediately that wonderful heavy woody, loamy smell of autumn hits us. There are lots of fallen leaves on the floor already being crushed into the muddy path but around us the trees themselves are still very green. We debate the possibility of a colourful autumn, but both doubt it will happen. We're expecting it all to fade then fall. We'll see.

There's only a short stretch of road to negotiate to the single width road bridge over the River Derwent and we pause to look at the murky brown water surging beneath. It has rained quite heavily the last few days so it isn't surprising that the river isn't running clear. Once over the bridge we turn right through the metal gate and into a long, closely cropped field. There are sheep in the field, not cows as last time (thank goodness), and we walk along the clear, wide track to the gate at the other side which brings us to the road again, directly opposite Beeley Church.

We take the road up the side of the church, pause as PC removes her waterproof coat (it isn't even trying to rain), turn right then left, and we're on our way past the pretty old houses of the village. For some reason we start talking of a few people we went to school with, way back in ancient times, and trying to picture how they'd look now. Have they worn as well as we have? Doubtful!

PC is quite taken by some chickens and a cockerel, so stops to photo them. They're hurrying for cover. We've heard a buzzard, and maybe they have too, or they could just be camera shy.

The tarmac runs out, or rather it turns right towards Moor Farm, and we head straight on and up along a grass and mud track instead. Ahead is a heavy old gate, but fortunately there is a newish kissing gate next to it. At the other side it's time for me to remove my fleece - it must be getting warm!

The grassy track continues uphill and although the path actually follows the wall line there is another gate (and very nice stile although you need extremely long legs to use it) leading into Beeley Plantation. It is open for access and a more attractive proposition.

In the woods the path is wide and the trees bring that autumn smell with them. We're quite high up and down to our right is Beeley Brook on its way to join the Derwent, but at the moment the path is fairly level. We cross over the brook at some conveniently placed stones before the uphill starts in earnest. We pass a small group of school children wearing hard hats (why?) accompanied by their teachers and a very watchful border collie.

The path is quite boggy in places here and we have to be careful of prominent tree roots, but we're still climbing and beginning to feel warm. Once the boggy bits are cleared the path becomes easy again, though still steep. We've passed a few walkers on our way, perhaps a half dozen or so, but not so many as we thought would be out on a clear day.

When the path levels out PC has to stop to remove her jumper. She's really feeling the heat, especially as she's still wearing the waterproof trousers.

There are two options ahead, straight on or up to our left, and it's the left hand path we take, climbing steeply once more, but as it levels out we know that we're almost at the top of our walk. The brook has to be crossed in a little while, but there are lots of lovely large boulders here just begging to be used as seats, so we find a suitable one, sit down and fetch out lunch.

We were going to start with coffee, but decide that it really is time to sample this years Ramblers Restorative. It's spicy and warming with a promise of Christmas and intoxication. Perfect. We follow it with coffee, then it's lunch and buns. We're back to the fresh cream scones again, and again they're from Morrisons. Without any doubt Morrisons really do the best scones. Especially as these were on offer - buy one get one free. And no, we don't have two each (but we were tempted). Another coffee, and a long talk, and it's time to get moving.

It's easy crossing the brook up here, but the waterfalls promised on the map are very disappointing. They may look good during or shortly after a heavy downpour, but today they're an uninspiring trickle. We're walking across the head of the woods now, and to our right the trees thin sufficiently for the sunlit views beyond Rowsley to unfold. Yes, the sun is out.

When we leave the woods we turn sharp left onto the very rough track which leads down towards Beeley. We do debate, briefly, going across the strangely named Rabbit Warren, but since there isn't a path from it back down to this track (though I think there used to be) we decide not to bother.

We have some wonderful views across the fields and valleys from here, all illuminated by autumn sunshine. It even feels warm in the sun, surprising given the up and down weather we've been experiencing lately. The track widens and smooths out before turning lumpy again, and we see a 4x4 on its way up. We make way for it (there's not a lot of option) and wonder how it's going to cope with the deep ruts and gouges at the top of the track. Since it isn't a Land Rover we reckon the track will win.

The lane is a little muddy near the farm but once past it we're on tarmac again. There's a lovely collection of stone mushrooms (saddle stones) at the roadside and the houses here at Beeley Hilltop look very neat. We pause to admire the trees on the edge of the Chatsworth Estate, the colours are subtly different giving a textured effect rather than a great blaze of autumnal hues. In the foreground is a dead tree, pale and stark against the darker woods, with a parliament rooks perched on its bare branches. (Yes, the collective noun for rooks is parliament - I looked it up!)

We're nearing the bottom of the lane now and the road (B6012) is in sight. It's a sign it's a warm day, there are plenty of open topped cars driving past.

It's a bit tricky negotiating our way back to the bridge, there isn't a pavement and the verge is almost non-existent, but we manage not to be knocked down or crushed by cars, and we pause on the bridge to look along the length of the river. Then it's a short haul back up to through the wonderful smelling woods and to the car park.

Sadly, we'll be a few weeks before walking again due to school holidays and other commitments, but we're determined to do a good one when we meet again at the beginning of November.

WHAT A DIFFERENCE A WEEK MAKES or VENGEFUL AUTUMN RETURNS

MILLSTONE EDGE TO HATHERSAGE

It's hard to believe that exactly one week ago we were slathering on the suncream and worrying about the heat. Now, we're prepared to be battered, blown and soaked. Yes, autumn is well and truly here, and we're daft enough to be out experiencing it in all its fury.

We've driven through a few heavy showers to reach the Surprise View car park but the sky is clear as we struggle into our gear: extra jumpers, fleeces, waterproof coat and trousers. Add a scarf, woolly hat and gloves and the ensemble is complete. Then we turn around. The thick, dark clouds on the horizon look less than friendly, and the severe winds bring them and the accompanying rain towards us with alarming speed, so we retreat to the shelter of the car. PC has a moment of sparkling inspiration and brings a sample of her Sloe Gin with her.

As the wind rocks the car and the rain hammers down we cosily sip PC's brew. It is excellent, though different to mine. Less syrupy, slightly different taste. Odd really, as we used the same sloes and the same recipe, but we think she may have added more gin. Nothing wrong with that!

As last the clouds clear so we do battle with the ticket machine - credit cards only - but we know what we're doing this time after the last debacle. Then it's time for the off.

We are battling against heavy winds as we wander up the path through the heather towards Millstone Edge. The Surprise View here isn't very surprising at all. Another band of rain is sweeping in obscuring everything. Hoods up, heads bowed we plough on as the torrent hits us. Wow, it really means it. Not only are we being bullied by the wind and soaked by the rain, but we have the added discomfort of hail. Hail! In October. Urgh.

It's hard to keep our feet as we crest the high point of the edge opposite Mother Cap and we can feel the stinging hail though layers of waterproofs and trousers. A couple of walkers pass us from the opposite direction, heads bowed, and our cursory greetings are whipped away on the wind. We hope the whole walk isn't going to be like this.

As the path descends close to Over Owler Tor the rain stops, the wind eases and the sun comes out. It would be glorious if it wasn't so cold and our fingers weren't freezing inside sodden gloves.

Crossing the moor though the bracken and heather is easy, and we now have the far reaching view that eluded us higher up. Naturally, the eyesore of the cement works is prominent, especially when a stray ray of sunlight illuminates its stark pale presence. It really isn't a good advert for the Peak District.

We reach a small group of wind beaten trees and pause to inspect what appears to be a buried cairn and mound. We're at a point where 'the wood that wasn't there' would have been. I really must get around to writing about that.

We continue straight on as though heading to Higger Tor, but follow the path down towards the road. The drop from the stile here is a bit severe unless you have very long legs or are extremely agile. We can admit to neither. Then it's up the road a short distance, discussing Stephen Fry's autobiography, before crossing over to the path on the other side which marked on the map but has no sign post.

When we last came this way it was even colder and the deeply rutted track had a series of treacherous ice covered puddles along its length. The deep ruts are still there, and you have to walk carefully, but it seems that those who have caused the most damage (vehicles) have now been stopped by gates. The second part of the track is easy to negotiate and in the dip of the hills it is wind free and quite pleasant.

We pass Callow on our right and Mitchell Field on our left before reaching the road which runs from Hathersage to Stanage and beyond. There are a number of bends on the road which mean we have to be careful, but we also find a perfectly positioned bench up and to the right. It is too tempting to ignore so we climb the few steps up to and sit down, giving a thank you to Peter Townend in whose memory it has been erected.

We intend at first only to have coffee, but it is almost lunchtime and we know that picnic spots further on are pretty much non existent, so after our first drink we fetch out the sandwiches, and then the buns. We've gone retro today, and PC has brought for our delight some Apple Charlottes (although Tesco calls them Apple Custard Tarts or somesuch). It takes us back years to our childhoods when we would be able to buy these treats at the corner shop, not in packets but delivered by the bakery each day. Nostalgic, and good. We manage to finish them as another wave of heavy rain hits us and as it abates we finish off the coffee.

The walk down towards Hathersage is enlivened by PC trying to take a picture of an uncooperative goose, and a swan behind a fence that hisses at her when she turns her camera on it instead. Obviously not happy to be thought of as second best to a goose.

In Hathersage we make a detour to the loos, then we walk up the hill and out of the village, enjoying some good views across the fields towards Abney. It's sunny again, gloriously so, and we're looking forward to getting back onto high ground.

We're out of the village proper now and cross the road to a footpath which runs steeply up between some houses, easily missed if you're not looking for it. It's shaded here, but steep so we get warm very fast. However, we do manage to keep the pace up and make it to the top, where there's a stile into some woods, with only the briefest of pauses. There are two paths, one ahead, one to the right, and it is the one ahead we need. We take the right hand one. It does end up in the same place, but not without petering out half way leaving us to tread warily at the side of a stone wall.

As the path climbs out of the woods it starts to rain again, so wait for it to pass. Although the individual trees do not seem particularly ancient the woods themselves feel old. There is a fine gnarled, many trunked sycamore specimen and a lovely beech whose leaves have already turned into golden medallions of autumn. Why this tree alone has turned so wonderfully when the rest have not is a mystery, unless it is perhaps in a chilly spot where it catches the cold winds.

Breaking out from the woods we enjoy and fantastically clear view of Winyards Nick on the horizon. We wonder if this would have been a landmark back in the iron age to guide travellers towards Carl Wark and Higger Tor, neither of which are visible from here. We're intrigued.

Pressing on we walk across an open field and see, to our left and to our great surprise, a large house. It looks very 'Jane Eyre' but there's no name for it on the map.

Our route takes us down the driveway of the house, then across the minor road where we decide to go through the splendidly named Whim Wood rather than slog across the moor, a prudent move given the next wave of incoming rain.

It's a very pleasant walk through the wood, hugging the wall on our left, and although we're climbing we're sheltered from the rain and the extremes of the wind. At the top of the wood the path becomes a little indistinct but not too hard to follow, and it brings us to a wall and a gateway leading to the more open but still wooded land directly beneath Millstone Edge.

Ignoring the right hand option which would only take us back to the main road, we turn left and prepare for a steep clamber up to the edge. As it is, the path isn't too bad though the shoulder high bracken means you have to keep our eyes on where we're going. At least we don't have to actually climb the edge.

A stile leads us onto another path which in turn takes us up towards Over Owler Tor. We're retracing our steps now but the views behind us are spectacular.

Up a little higher and we're back on the top of the edge - and again being hammered by the wind and rain. Surely it can't have been like this up here all day! We detour from the path to take a more direct route through the heather towards the car park, arranging where to meet next week as we walk. There isn't much time to stop and chat now, dark grey clouds are looming and we've only just managed to take off boots and waterproofs before the rain hits us, so it's straight into the cars and away. We're a little soggy around the edges and windswept and hoping that the weather is a little kinder next week.

SEPTEMBER SUNSHINE WITH SUNGLASSES, SUN CREAM AND SLOE GIN

FROM BASLOW TO WELLINGTON'S MONUMENT, THEN ON TO THE ROBIN HOOD FOR A RETURN THROUGH CHATSWORTH

Today we have something quite unexpected, even though it has been forecast. A stunningly blue, clear and hot late September day. This is what is called an Indian Summer. Long may it last!

We meet up in the large car park at Baslow keen to follow a route we last walked during our 'dog days'. After some memory dredging and using our fingers to help calculate, we reckon it must have been about 8 years ago. A long time to leave before revisiting a good walk.

Before we set off we sort out our rucksacks, and I pull out a small bottle of Sloe Gin - the final product from our walk back in October last year where we managed to salvage some sloes in Deepdale. Rather than carry an unsafe glass bottle around with us (or at least, that's the excuse we use) we feel it's better to sample the gin before walking. Who cares that it isn't yet 10 o'clock? Yes, it's a good one. Pity we haven't got PC's to sample yet (get it bottled, girl!) but this taster certainly puts an additional rosy glow on the walk.

We pay our dues at the parking meter, wincing a little at the cost, then don rucksacks and cross the main road. Where we pause to study the map. Well, it is 8 years since we last walked here and finding the way along residential roads is always harder than moorland paths. We think we're sorted, and set off up behind the italian restaurant (it looks nice, must go sometime) and talk about work, or the lack of it, for those leaving university.

Just as we begin to wonder if we're going the right way we see Bar Road ahead of us and turn up it. This should take us up towards Baslow Edge, and with a few more pauses to check our route we're soon on the tree lined track that presses steeply upwards. There are cows in the fields and walkers aplenty. There's also a heat haze covering the view so that PC is worried that her photos won't turn out.

By now we're discussing upcoming university choices and 6th form choices. Both are equally traumatic. We're also feeling the heat now, so PC ties her hair back with a shoelace and I zip off the bottom of my trousers to make them into shorts. We find a nice boulder to sit on and have a quick drink before we head on through the gate and onto the moor. Good job we have plenty of water with us.

We go through the gate and onto the well trod path up onto the moor. We seem to remember that last time it had been very muddy, rutted and churned up here, possibly by motorbikes, but maybe we're on a slightly different path. It doesn't look to have suffered much recently.

To our left it looks as though there are old quarries gouged out of the hillside, long disused now with tumbled stones being buried by heather and bracken. To the right are superb views across towards Birchen Edge and beyond. There are plenty of people out now, too. Hardly surprising given the glorious weather.

Ahead of us there's a bench, and it doesn't take any persuasion for us to go and take a seat, shrugging off our rucksacks and settling down to enjoy the view. We haven't been walking long, admittedly, but a comfy bench is just too good an opportunity to miss. Sunglasses and sunhat are now essential but we're not complaining.

We've obviously bagged a choice spot, quite a few couples and small groups hover close by for a while hoping we're going to move, but we could quite happily sit here all day. Eventually one party of three, plus dog, sidle towards us and as we start to sort out our rucksacks they stand so close we feel as though we should be on first name terms! The moment we move away, the pounce, and are on the seat before the bench has had time to cool.

Cresting the small rise in the path we can clearly see Wellington's Monument to our right and the prominent Eagle Stone to the left with someone at its base clearly considering climbing it.

We move to the right then realise that the path we need actually started somewhere back down the way we have come. We must have missed the turning since we were enjoying the view so much (or talking to much). Undaunted, and despite eating apples freshly picked this morning, (our concession to healthy eating, they counteract the buns), we follow a very steep narrow path downwards. We're obviously not the only ones to have missed the right turning, but this path would be a little bit scary if the ground was wet. It would probably produce a swift, slippery decent with an uncomfortable landing.

But today the ground is dry and with the help of a few tree branches we make it to the path beneath the Monument with minimum fuss.

Here it is cool and shady, and quiet. There's no one else to be seen or heard as we walk along the slowly descending woodland path. Moss covered boulders loom out of the undergrowth and there's a smattering of golden leaves on the floor. The tree canopy is thinning but most trees have yet to make the dramatic change into autumn colours. Apparently plant life has been lulled into thinking that this is another Spring, and in some parts of the country Spring flowers are already making an appearance. They'll be in for a shock. We see a toadstool the size of plate, then another 'fairy toadstool', the red and white spotted poisonous fly agaric (Amanita muscaria). PC duly takes a photograph.

We pass through a small gate which leads us to a path between a hedge and a wall. Beyond the hedge is a large house and garden which can be glimpsed from time to time. The path takes us down towards Bar Brook and a beautiful stone footbridge across it. From this bridge the dominating view is of the massive concrete bridge which arches over the brook to link the houses with the road. It's an eyesore, and one that we wouldn't like to have the expense of maintaining.

From the bridge we climb slowly up to the road (A621) and emerge into the sunlight once again. It's a fast road, so we have to be careful as we cross over to the stile adjacent to the cottage opposite. Once again we're amongst trees, but these are sparse and consist mainly of spindly birches. The path climbs slowly uphill with plenty of inviting boulders. Eventually we choose a conveniently shaped one to sit on for lunch which gives us good views despite having a stone wall in the foreground.

Salad, sandwiches and coffee are consumed along with the bun - iced cinnamon swirls. Not quite as good as they promised, a little on the dry side and very heavy, but full of essential calories. PC declines a nip from the secret flask (freshly prepared Ramblers Restorative), convinced that added to the earlier sloe gin it will be overkill. So the Ramblers is safe for another week.

It's hard setting off again on a full stomach with the sun beating down, but it isn't far until we've reached the highest point on this side of the walk where we inspect, but don't climb, the huge gritstone rock formation. From here it's all downhill, and crossing the close cropped grass we come upon the remains of an enclosure - clearly marked on the map but not so clear on the ground if you aren't looking for it.

Down the path to the road (A619) we have to negotiate and awkward (for us) stile before facing the traffic again. Swiftly crossing we plunge steeply downhill (via stone steps!) to the wooden footbridge crossing the beautifully named Heathy Lee Brook. The last time we crossed this bridge it was extremely slippery underfoot, but since that ancient time the bridge has been replaced - a plaque stating that it was put up in 2007 after the floods. We hadn't realised, though, that the waters had been so strong as to wash away the original bridge. Must have been scary.

(We remember the floods with stark clarity. We were actually out walking near Derwent not expecting the weather to be quite as bad as it turned out to be. In the end it took me 5 hours to get home as all routes were closed. Oh yes, very memorable.)

Now it's an easy stroll along the back-tracks of the Chatsworth Estate, with one or two rather high stiles to negotiate. We remember the last stile as being a real trial to the dogs last time, but this time we're on our own, and it's a trial for us instead. Then we're into the park with the afternoon sun beating down on us. In the distance we see a herd of deer running, the antlered stage bringing up the rear. Then I realised that we're in a 'field' with cattle. I make a quick dash for the stile, even though the beasties don't even notice us.

We follow the fence around to the Canon Gate which leads us onto the Baslow path. Not far to the car park now, and there are people coming along the path in droves. The good weather has certainly fetched them out.

Naturally, the car park is heaving when we get back, and the inside of the cars boiling. Just enough time to finish off the water and plan for next week. It's been so good revisiting an old walk that we'll try to do the same again.

WE'RE BACK WITH A GENTLE AMBLE AND A SPRINT FINISH

UNDER DERWENT EDGE TO LADYBOWER AND ASHOPTON

Summer is over and we're back - at last. There's so much to catch up on, so much gossip and so many happenings that we've planned an easy walk to give up enough breath to talk. Although we've both been keeping fit(ish) over the holidays (PC sailing and me walking) we've both managed to put on a bit of weight. Too many Cornish Pasties for PC while I've been enjoying the Cumbrian ale! Still, we're ready now, and raring to go.

Cutthroat Bridge is our familiar starting point and we have one of those wonderful autumn days where the air is crisp and fresh but the sun is bright. We had hoped that the heather would still be in full bloom - two weeks ago the moors were a vivid purple - but it's gone over and we've missed the best of the colour.

We avoid being run over on the A57 and make our way onto the bridleway at the opposite side of the road. We have an easy walk along this path which gives us plenty of time to start catching up on the last few weeks: holidays, exam results, family etc etc.

We haven't gone far before we have to stop - not to rest but to de-layer. The sun is starting to make itself felt and our fleeces and jumpers aren't needed. We're passed by some other walkers and a pair (or is it a tandem, brace, duo, couple?) of cyclists, and we remember that this time of the year is still the holiday season for many, especially those with no need to keep to the school term times.

It doesn't take us very long to reach the gap beneath Whinstone Lee Tor where we pause to take in the wonderful view, and to get out the map to decide what to do next. Our original plan (such as it was) would have taken us on the path over Lead Hill following the route of our very first blog. However, after a brief discussion we decide to continue on the bridleway which runs beneath Derwent Edge, something we can't recall ever having done before.

By now the sun really is shining and since we seem to have lost all the other walkers and cyclists (who prefer to keep high up on the Edge itself) we decide to find somewhere to sit for a coffee. Not quite as easy as we first thought as although there is a lot of heather and grass, all very wet from yesterday's rain, there's not much in the way of handy boulders on this part of the path. In the end we find a grassy platform where we make ourselves comfortable and fetch out the two flasks - the coffee and the secret flask. We savour the last of the Ramblers' Restorative (good job I have another batch almost ready at home) followed by coffee and enjoy the view along with a good talk.

We sit for longer than we intended, it's almost lunchtime, but buoyed up by our refreshments we press on, initially ignoring the path down to our left which leads to Ladybower and taking the narrow track straight on which flanks the drystone wall.

It's really warm now, and we're feeling peckish. Fortunately, there are a lot of boulders around here so we scramble through the bracken and heather to reach a huge slab of gritstone at convenient seat-height. Sandwiches, coffee and our first-of-the-season fresh cream scones are consumed with great satisfaction.

We don't really want to get up and move, it feels a really lazy day, but we know we can't sit around forever. Again, we consult the map and decide to retrace our steps and take the downward track towards Ladybower and Grindle Clough. We're onto the subject of books by the time we're on the broad path heading towards the woods.

The path is a bit stony, the usual case when a track is heavily used by mountain bikes, but it's easy enough to walk. We certainly wouldn't really fancy it uphill, though. We go through a gate then across the stream before reaching another gate which takes us into an old yard and barns, renovated by the National Trust.

The first building is Grindle Barn, now made into a shelter for walkers with a wonderful 'duck' bench and ceramic tiles set into the walls made by local schoolchildren back in 2002. Outside, above the entrance, is a carved wooden board showing life in the valley and on the hills. It really is worth seeing.

As we pass through the yard the last barn on our left has date carved into the lintel: 1647.

From here the downward path is paved, a bit strange and heavy on the feet, but it does stop erosion. By the time we're at the bottom on the Ladybower path we're onto the subject of the prices some charity shops charge for things they were given for free. Like £70 - yes, £70 - for a dress in Kendal. Needless to say, that one was left on the rack.

We're enjoying the view and the steady pace, but when we glance at the time we realise that we're later than planned and that we to get a move on. So we step up a gear, not fast, but we're making a bit more effort. Not easy when we've eaten all the food and drunk all the coffee (and the Ramblers').

It's a long, steady haul along the side of the reservoir, which is rather low despite us thinking we'd had a pretty grim summer. As we approach the long, multi-arched bridge we veer left past the houses at Ashopton and out onto the path beneath Ladybower Tor. It's single file on the narrow track until we're through the gate and in the shade cast by the trees behind the Ladybower Inn. The temperature is really high now and it feels more like mid-summer than early autumn.

It doesn't take us long to reach the broad stony path that runs parallel to, but above, the A57. Here I get a phone call from home - a sure sign we're late and with a fair walk back to the cars there's no likelihood of being home soon. Ah well, can't be helped.

The walk up the path is steeper than we remember, or maybe it's because it's so hot and we, quite honestly, are getting tired. Obviously, we ain't as fit as we thought! However, once we've hit the high point it doesn't take us long to yomp the rest of the way, completely ignoring the wide views and peace.

We make it back to the cars hot and sweaty, not a good look, and with the first rosy glimmers of sunburn. Yes, it really has been that hot. No time to hang around, though, so we make hurried arrangements for our next walk in two weeks time before heading our separate ways and a return to what passes for normality.

END OF SEASON CHALLENGE - THE GRINDSBROOK HORSESHOE

OR: UP HIP AND AWAY.....




It's hard to believe that this is to be the last walk of our 'season'. School holidays put an abrupt end to our walking although we'll both be putting one boot in front of the other albeit separately and in different locations.


So, for our Grand Finale we meet up in Edale. It's a choice spot for high summer walks because of the long days, the large choice of routes and - hopefully - good weather. Today we seem to be in luck as despite a few dodgy clouds looming on the way here we seem to have lost them and the sun is shining out of an impressively blue sky. I'm even wearing shorts - scary!


We've decided to head up Grindsbrook and discuss our route as we walk. Normally we take the popular track up to the head of the Clough then make the steep climb up to the top, and once we even went up the Grindslow Knoll route (never again), but this time as we stride into the meadow after crossing the bridge over Grinds Brook and clambering up the steep steps at the other side, we choose to turn right on the path that climbs up towards The Nab, Ringing Roger and the edge of the Kinder Plateau.

The grassy path starts to climb immediately and we're soon feeling warm, and not just because of the sunshine. Soon the grass gives way to an eroded path which, in turn, leads us to a gate in the wall. Once through this we're really on the long haul upwards. The path has been laid over with stones because, no doubt, of severe erosion and we consider that a pretty good job has been done. The 'steps' are fairly even and of a reasonable stride length which makes climbing up so much easier. The path takes a sharp left and we continue to follow it as it zig-zags its way up the hillside. Naturally we keep stopping to admire the ever-widening view over Edale and the Great Ridge beyond.

When the path suddenly becomes easy, rather than be elated we tread suspiciously, and sure enough our suspicious thoughts are confirmed. Ahead lies the steep, eroded and rocky clamber up Ringing Roger. Of course, we could go around, there is a lower path, but we're making excellent time and aren't feeling even slightly weary, so onward it is.

Naturally, it isn't too easy. The erosion and loose stones make it a bit of a challenge, but it's well worth the effort and soon we've made it around the top and onto the path leading to the head of Golden Clough. Standing on the path overlooking the deep valley of Grindsbrook below, feeling the wind in our hair and the sun on our faces is one of the magical moments that makes us get out walking whenever we can.

It's only a short haul up to the very top now, and again the path has been paved against erosion though not as sensitively as at the bottom as some of the steps are high, others low making you walk unevenly. Still, it's a little matter once we're on the top and walking across Nether Tor.

The path is level and almost sandy with tiny pebbles of quartz scattered all around. The views are spectacular and some of the rock formations amazing. There are huge slabs of almost flat rock, then tortured, wind-sculpted monuments.

When we arrive at the superb rock formation called Hartshorn we manage to squeeze down out of the wind and threatening clouds to sit for lunch whilst enjoying the dizzying view.

Since it's our last walk the buns are really special and summery: shortcake pastry, creme anglaise and fresh strawberries. Funny how we go silent when we're eating something so nice!

The clouds are moving fast, changing from dark grey to white to grey again, so it's off with the sunglasses and on with a fleece as we leave our lunch spot and continue on our way. We've decided by now that we're going to go the for complete horseshoe. After all, going down the rocky wall at Grindsbrook Head isn't something we were particularly looking forward to and we don't reckon we'll lose much, if any, time going the slightly longer route.

The path meanders a bit in places to avoid having to cross deep water run-off from the plateau, although at time time of year there is barely a puddle or two to negotiate. We have to do a little bit of rock climbing (OK so we'd not picked up the 'easy' path but hey, no problems) and we're soon at Grindsbrook Head. No, we're definitely not going down that way.

As we walk around the top of the Head and photograph the mushroom shaped rock the sun comes out again and the grey clouds have disappeared. Wonderful.

It's an easy enough walk up to Grindslow Knott although PC decides to skirt around its side rather than go straight over the top, but the views from the top are amazing. There's a whole 360 degree panorama that no amount of photographs can do justice to. There's also splendid views of the far ridge we've just walked too.

Next is the descent, and the first bit can be a bit tricky although we manage well enough (utilizing hands, feet and bums) but it reminds us, as if we needed it, why we don't walk up this way any more. It is steep on the way down, and pretty relentless. Although really it is fairly easy it can make the legs ache.

Soon enough, though, the gateway is in sight and we're walking through the grassy sloping fields towards Grindsbrook Booth. The last section of the path is beneath a canopy of trees, then we're out on the road again and heading down to the car park at Edale.

It's been a marvellous walk to end a marvellous season. Little did we imagine back in the Winter when PC had her hip replacement that we'd be doing anything as good as this so soon. We'd both thought that a route such as today's would be out of the question for at least another year, but we're both pleased to have been proved wrong.

So that's it until September. Over the summer we might be able to get around to putting some more photos on the blog, or some details of older walks (and the Missing Wood), but we'll also be out walking, just not in the Peaks.

Happy Holidays.

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.

WIN SOME - UP TO WINHILL PIKE

We'd felt a sense of panic when our normal walking day had to be suspended, but luckily we were able to rearrange and we chose to walk up Win Hill. Fine, except we haven't as much time as usual. Are we up to it?


The last few days have been unusually hot, but the forecast is for rain, so we've come prepared with sun cream and waterproofs. No lingering in the lay-by today, we need to get a move on, so from our parking spot on the road next to Ladybower we're soon on the way. Then PC realises she's forgotten her walking poles so she has to go back for them. While I wait I check out the best route.


Off again and we're crossing the dam. The earth-bank wall is covered with blanket of yellow flowers looking bright and cheerful.

At the other side, the water isn't too high.

At the far side of the dam we turn right then take the track that climbs up to the left. It's quite rocky underfoot, and in places a bit soggy after the heavy rain and thunderstorms of last night, but we're able to push on at a good pace.


On reaching the top we come to a gate, go through it then pause to remove a layer. We're down to shirt sleeves, a rare event this year!


We turn left on a broad track which starts to climb slowly but steadily through the trees. There's no one else about and we have the path to ourselves. The conifers aren't planted too closely together here, so the woods aren't too dense or gloomy, and there's a broad expanse of grass and bracken at either side of the path.


We're surprised at how easy the walking is and how soon we meet the path on Parkin Clough, where we turn right and climb steeply uphill. We once walked the whole length of Parkin Clough, from bottom to top, an unrelenting slog where we debated who was going to be Sam and who would be Frodo. Not sure we ever came to a decision.


Anyway, we climb up through the trees, through a gateway in a drystone wall, then up again. We're in the open now and having plenty of stops. Ahead is the much eroded and repaired path up to Win Hill. I'm not sure whether I like the stone 'steps' or not, but they are a necessity on such a well used route.

Looking back the extensive views across all the Edges are beginning to emerge. Sadly, we also get a full frontal view of the cement works. What an eyesore!


We're on the last push to the summit now where we stop to enjoy the 360 degree panorama. It's too early for lunch but we decide to sit down for a coffee just as a group of teens reach the trig point after walking up from Hope. We find a spot a little way from them where we can sit and savour the view, the coffee and the contents of the secret flask.

It's very pleasant sitting here, though we've had to put our layers back on as it is quite breezy. There are a few more people about - Win Hill is a bit of a people magnet - but it's still relatively peaceful.


However, we're watching the clock so we pack up and set off again. A slight error of judgement (no, we aren't lost!) means we have to scramble around some rocks to regain the path, which doesn't actually go over the summit but skirts it, but we're soon back to easy, level walking again.


We leave the path, even though it is tempting to keep straight on, and take a narrow track through the heather. This starts to take us downhill and eventually we come to a gate in a wall leading to a partially felled plantation. The cut off tree trunks make a tempting seat so we decide to stop for lunch. We remember stopping here some years ago, in the pouring rain, but before the trees had been taken down.


Buns today are a little scrambled due to the heat, but after some improvisation of cutlery and plates we manage to due them justice. Fresh cream strawberry tarts with creme anglaise. They may not look as good as they did in the shop but there's nothing wrong with the taste. Perfect.


It would be too easy to sit here all day. We've lost the breeze, the sky is very slightly overcast which makes it comfortable, and the birds are singing their hearts out. But our eyes on the time we have to pack up and move on.


The path keeps us going downhill, in place a bit slippy and precarious, but we're descending rapidly. In no time at all we've reached the bottom track which hugs the contour of the reservoir. The banks at the side of the track are filled with airy grasses and foxgloves, and there is a sweetly scented honeysuckle twined around a hawthorn.


In no time at all we're back at the dam and heading back to the cars. We can just see the peak of Win Hill over the tops of the trees, and we congratulate ourselves on having managed the walk and a couple of stops with time to spare.