WE'RE BACK AGAIN - AND AROUND ABNEY

It seems almost forever since we were last out walking and the blog only a memory. But PC is back from her seafaring adventures (for a while, anyway) and the summer holidays are behind us so finally we are able to get out, and what a wonderful feeling it is.

Naturally, as soon as we plan our day the prolonged dry spell breaks with heavy overnight rain, but undeterred we soldier on. Our meeting place is a small layby just before the tiny, pretty village of Abney. There's just sufficient room for two cars and it is right next to our starting point; a stone stile and footpath leading uphill and through fields to Smelting Hill.

PC is looking smart in swish new gear - her husband is currently doing the Coast to Coast walk so whilst he was buying equipment for his trek she took advantage and joined in - but she has forgotten her hiking boots so has to borrow a spare pair of mine! Some things never change.

We clamber over the stile and head up the field path to the next one, only to see a family of four goats managing the stiles with a great deal more panache and agility than we are. They bound out of our way as PC remarks that it reminds her of the Sound of Music. Clearly she has been at sea for too long.

After the next stile we have two cumbersome gates to negotiate, and a few ponies who are curious enough to come and look at us, although once they realise that we have nothing for them to eat they wander off.

The last gate takes us onto the distinct grassy path leading over Smelting Hill. It is warm enough to walk without a coat, and there is no rain, but the ground is wet and the sky still dull. But it is so good to be out that we barely acknowledge the weather. We have too much catching up to do.

There are a few pauses to admire the views, and we even have distant views of gliders at Camphill beyond Abney Moor.

It's an easy walk over Smelting Hill, we cross Siney Sitch by the small bridge and continue over Offerton Edge to descend through the bracken towards Offerton Hall. Instead of going through the gate onto the lane at the bottom we turn left on the bridleway and follow the edge of the access land, a wall to our right, the bracken filled moor rising to our left.

The path is slightly undulating then climbs gently up and over a small rise before dropping to the gateway onto the unmade Shatton Lane. Around the gate it is wet, but then again, we have never known it to be dry! We have to wait for a farmer with his Land Rover and open-topped trailer (containing two bemused sheep) to go past before we start the walk up the lane.

It's a steady walk up the lane with few distractions, which is good as we are still catching up with events! Ahead of us is the huge mast which dominates the skyline, and once we have past it we have wonderful views of that other blight on the landscape, the cement works.

Here we pause for a while to watch some para-gliders, five of them slowly circling in the air currents like huge lazy, but very odd, birds.

Further on and we're looking for somewhere to stop for lunch. We go through the gate at the end of the track near Wolf's Pit and hope to be able to sit on the grass and heather at the side of the track, but the air is swarming with midges so we are already setting off along the track towards Abney Moor before there is sufficient breeze to blow them away and allow us to settle down to eat.

We start off with a nip of celebratory Ramblers Restorative followed by coffee - both so much better savoured in the open air on a good walk. Then it is a wrap for me, and a salad for PC. Buns today are home-made Mocha brownies. It's a new recipe I've tried but they taste pretty good; crusty on top and gooey inside. I think I'll be making them again. We finish with another coffee before setting off again. Maybe we have lost the knack of lingering.

The sun is now making an effort to come out, and succeeds extremely quickly. Although there is still some cloud it is no longer dull and dreary, we can see blue sky and feel the temperature rising. It is turning into a glorious day.

We follow this track around to a gate and at the other side to the right we see the extremely narrow tarmac lane which is clearly used by the vehicles belonging to the para-gliders who are now very close. That lane leads back down to Abney but we ignore it and continue ahead along the unmade Brough Lane, pausing at a field to admire some horses. A couple of chestnuts and two mares with foals, one a lovely skewbald.

Walking further we find our next path, a left hand one which runs across Abney Moor. Here there is a long wooden bench, and a stone built one too, both looking very inviting and far more comfortable than where we'd stopped for lunch. If we had known about the benches we'd have waited a while.

We go over the stile onto the moor and follow the single, grassy track that meanders ahead. As we're talking a glider suddenly looms into view, then silently circles and slips away.

It's gentle walking over the moor, and warm too, but this moor is new to us so we're enjoying the newness. At the end of the path two men are sitting on a bench and having a very late lunch break. We pause to exchange a few words, then we're over the stile and onto the road and heading downhill back towards Abney.

A couple of cars pass us, but it isn't terribly busy so it isn't too much of a trial walking down here. There is a stream below us and as we reach the bridge into the village we peer over at it, but sadly it isn't terribly attractive at this point. The village, however, looks lovely especially with the gardens full of late flowering Japanese Anemones.

It's a tiny village so we aren't long before we through the other side and back at the cars. It has been brilliant to be out again, and the excellent weather has only added to the feel-good factor. It's also pretty good to take our boots off! Fingers crossed, we'll be able to get out again in a couple of weeks. Time to start planning.

AN UNEXPECTED OPPORTUNITY

DERWENT EDGE AND LADYBOWER

Having been unable to go walking for so long getting out for two weeks in succession is a real treat. Circumstances have meant that PC is still at home this week so we're able to sneak in another walk before she returns to the boat.

We're eager to enjoy this opportunity and both feel up to a reasonably long walk and plan to take in the length of Derwent Edge and return along the side of the reservoirs. 

We park up on the long lay-by on the A57 at the side of Ladybower after having availed ourselves of the facilities at the Heatherdene car park. Crossing the road we take the bridleway on the right which leads towards Ladybower wood and away from the reservoir. It's a lovely lane with a few neat cottages alongside it and good views across the reservoirs.

At the top of the lane we go through a gate and a little way further turn left on the track leading slightly uphill. It's close and muggy in this wooded area so PC stops to remove a layer. The walking is easy, though, so we are able to fully immerse ourselves in our conversation. So much has happened in the last week and we must make the most of it as it will be a long time before we're able to catch up again.

The track follows a wall line and soon we are out of the woods and only have trees to our left with Lead Hill looming above us on our right. Although it is only early on in our walk we decide to stop and have a drink whilst catching up with some photos from a family event last week. Out comes the secret flask with the Ramblers, then PC decides that she'd better empty her flask too. Sadly there's only a drop in it (Cointreau her tipple of choice) but the combination of Ramblers and Cointreau is a good one.

Once we've satisfied ourselves we set off again, this time the track is meandering upwards and soon we have the steep uphill, very eroded slope to Whinstone Lee Tor. We've warmed up nicely by the time we reach the top and exchange a brief 'hello' with a couple sitting up there enjoying the superb views with their dog. (No Mollie for us again, she's off on her holidays.)

We set off pretty smartish along the unofficial but well used path that follows the line of the whole Edge, noting as we walk that the wind is getting pretty brisk and hoping that it doesn't get strong enough to cause any problems (we have had real problems in high winds up here, and been actually blown off our feet).

The view opens up in front of us and we can see into the distance to the Wheel Stones and the Salt Cellar, looking forward to getting up close. Before we get that far, though we come to the Hurkling Stones and decide to get up close to them, something we've never done before as this is usually towards the end of our walks when we need to get a move on.

The weathered stones are very impressive and larger on close inspection than they seem to be from a distance. They also provide a good place to shelter from the growing wind so we decide to have an early lunch where we can sit in relative comfort.

Sandwiches (boring) then bun. No cream buns worth having this week but Mr Morrison has provided us with iced cinnamon swirls, richly doughy and gooey - and very satisfying. Followed by coffee our lunch is a definite success, but before the last of the coffee has been drunk we feel the first few spots of rain falling.

Undeterred we pull on our waterproof coats and emerge from the shelter of the Hurkling Stones. What a shock. The wind has got up and the temperature has plummeted. As we make our way back to the main path we can barely hear ourselves speak, and the rain is making a concerted effort to dampen our spirits.

As we reach the crossroads of paths we pause to consider our options. As much as we want to continue on ahead towards the Wheel Stones and Salt Cellar - with half a mind to go as far as Back Tor - the clouds are gathering and the whole outlook seems pretty grim. We want to walk, but we can't honestly see the point in being soaked through if we can avoid it. We've done it before, we don't need to do it again. There are no medals being awarded for perseverance!

So we take the left hand path and slowly start our descent from the edge. We're not going to rush, we still have plenty to talk about, and as soon as we dip away from the exposed edge the wind drops to a tolerable level and we can hear ourselves again. Sadly the rain doesn't stop but that's to be expected.

Naturally we keep pausing to enjoy the (damp) view and for PC to take pictures. And we notice that others are coming down off the edge too - we're not the only ones to err on the side of caution.

When we reach the dry stone wall at the bottom of the path we turn right, then left through a gate and continue our descent. Here the path is broad but eroded, it's a bridleway well used by mountain bikers - and one is steadfastly struggling uphill. Rather him than us.

By now the rain is coming in splutters and squalls and we're wondering if maybe we've made the wrong decision. But it's too late to change our minds now as we make our way to the barn complex at Grindle Clough (Grindle Barn). The barn, which we have visited before, is a handy shelter but it is already occupied when we reach it and decide not to disturb the gentleman who is there, looking proprietorially out at us. Instead we go through the gates and begin our final descent.

The clough looks extremely pretty with the fast running water, but the fields around are equally attractive too with their massed wild flowers.

At the bottom of the path we turn left and are once again on the level track which runs along the final length of Ladybower. And here we realise that we have made the right decision to leave the edge as the rain begins in earnest. At least we have some shelter from the trees.

This is a very easy amble now and we are soon (too soon) back at our cars. It is raining heavier now but we decide that we need to drive to a car park with a view (at the side of Ladybower) and continue our chat as we don't need to leave just yet.

As we are parked facing the reservoir with the edge beyond we see, through the rain, heavy clouds descending and completely obscuring the edge. They are very low, blanketing half the hillside too, and we are both very happy not to be struggling through it.

But we can't sit here forever, it is time to get back to our respective lives. By next week PC will be back on the boat, and I'll be hoping to find time to walk on my own. If I manage it, I'll post it.

A CIRCUIT OF BAMFORD MOOR

 

It's been a grim and grey few weeks, and not just with the weather. With PC off sailing the seven seas and family events taking over to a suffocating degree, getting out walking had fallen off the bottom of my list of things to do. But, joy of joys, an email from PC announced her pending arrival back in the UK for a friend's wedding and would I like to go walking the day after she landed. Would I?

Of course, the week leading up to PC's arrival had been bright, sunny and summery. The day of our planned walk dawned grim, dim and rainy. But undeterred we were still raring to go.

PC looks healthy and tanned (obviously not been in Britain, then) but had missed the moors and paths of the Peak District. She'd also missed proper English tea so had used up all her milk. Good job I have brought the coffee.

We meet at one of our familiar spots, the layby near to Cutthroat Bridge just above Ladybower, and we have a plan. Since we don't have Mollie with us today (too short notice to plan to bring her) it means we are free to roam on the access land leading across Bamford Moor to Bamford Edge. We've only done this once before, years ago (we tried once before that when the moor was first opened but the belligerent gamekeeper of the day considered a miniature poodle on a short lead to be a great threat to his game birds and turned us back before we got very far).  Back then we did struggle to beat our way through the thick heather to our destination. This time we're hoping to be luckier.

We walk down the side of the busy A57 and take the stile next to the gate leading onto the access land beneath Hordron Edge. We're on a clear track (frequented by gamekeepers and shooters) taking us gently through thin coniferous woodland which shields the moors from the road. It is so good to be out again, even if it keeps trying to rain.

Immediately we notice how much noise there is from the birds. We hear curlews and a cuckoo almost straight away, and there are others that we cannot identify. The track continues beneath Hordron Edge and when we come to the next woodland copse we see a bird up on the rocks to our left. I eventually manage to take a photograph, but although the bird is silhouetted against the light its long pointed beak is obvious. Is this the noisy but elusive curlew?

We continue along the track enjoying the chance to catch up on all that has happened in the last few weeks. It seems an age since we were last walking and apart from a few emails we haven't had the opportunity to exchange gossip. All that is changing!

As the track starts a gentle upward incline above the stream running down from Jarvis Clough we see a narrow but fairly distinct path on the opposite side. Recalling our problems on our previous walk, and the lack of any kind of path through the thick heather, we decide to drop down to the stream, cross over and follow the path.

 

This is done without an problems and we are soon walking up the path towards a single tree. We pause to admire the distant views of Stanage Edge before stooping beneath the tree and walking uncomfortably close to an old, disused quarry. The path levels out and we walk on a little way, following a drystone wall, then decide to stop for a break. We don't need a rest, but the secret flask and secret chocolate (yes, chocolate too) are calling.

We settle down on some flat stones at a broken section of the wall and pull out the secret flask. The Ramblers Restorative tastes wonderful, as does the Old Jamaica chocolate.

We have good, if rather murky, views across the Derwent Moors whilst behind us we can see (if we turn around) Stanage Edge. We have barely finished our drink and chocolate when the rain starts again, and this time it seems to mean it. We pack up quickly and pull on our waterproof trousers and coats before setting off again, keeping roughly to the line of the wall and the path.

The rain doesn't last long and by the time we have reached the rocks marked Pillars on the map the sun has come out and we need to remove the waterproofs as we're in danger of providing ourselves with our own greenhouse effect.

It is fairly easy walking, and the path is clear enough for us not to have to struggle through the heather. So far we haven't seen another soul out walking.

Before long we come to more rocks and decide to find somewhere comfortable for lunch. Once settled we pull out our food, and enjoy our buns (a cinnamon swirl danish and an apricot danish - we split them in half so we can have a taste of each) and a convivial drink of coffee. It is so good to be sat here enjoying the fresh air, views and company that we are most reluctant to get going, and we linger for quite a while. Eventually though we must move on and we pick up the path again.

 

The northern end of Bamford Edge starts to come into view, and we have a clear view of Win Hill across the valley, looking very stark and imposing from this vantage point. As we approach Bamford Edge we can see someone there, and when we get closer we realise it is a climber. He's holding a rope and looking over the edge, hopefully there's someone on the other end.

 

We walk along the wide path that tops the Edge giving us great views down to Bamford and across the Derwent valley, then further away to our left we can see the full stretch of Stanage Edge.

 

Up to this point we hadn't quite decided which route to take back, so we come to a decision and turn left to pick up the very indistinct path heading towards Moscar Moor. To begin with it is moderately clear, although we suspect it is used more by sheep than people, but eventually it peters out altogether. We could start compass work to attempt to find the correct route, but since this is access land we decide to strike out in the direction we want. Very quickly we are rewarded by another indistinct track, this time following some stone posts from a long gone fence line.

 

It's lovely out here with only the odd sheep for company. In places the heather is very high, though fortunately not where we are walking, and there are large areas of gnarled, whitened twigs where parts of the moor have been cleared. In amongst the low growing heather, though, are clumps of the while tufty 'flower' heads of Common cotton-grass (Eriophorum angustifolium), a sedge which favours boggy areas. 

We have to skirt one boggy area where the ground dips, but we do that easily enough without losing sight of where we are going even though we seem to have reached the end of our line of stone posts. Ahead are the grouse butts and a stone wall, beyond that we can see the top of the track that we had started out on.

As we reach the vehicle track that runs from the grouse butts to the main track another walker strides across the moor and passes us without saying a word. We allow him his space and follow him at a distance. When we reach the main track we see him striking off across Moscar Moor towards Stanage Edge, but we decide instead to take the route over Hordron Edge where there is a large amount of bird activity. We spend a while trying to capture shots of them in flight but don't have much success.

Further along we see another man and realise that he is at the stone circle known as the Seven Stones of Hordron. He scowls at us as we approach, refuses to answer a friendly 'hello' then sits on one of the stones with his arms folded, glaring. As we look at the stone circle and start to take photographs he snatched up his bag and stalks off. Phew. Glad I didn't see him when I was walking alone.

The stone circle is about 16m in diameter and there are about 23 of them in total, if you count all of the smaller ones as well as the main ones. It is in a superb position with the hills and edges forming an amphitheatre around it.

Once we've finished looking around we continue along Hordron Edge then drop down towards the road. Sadly there is a taught wire fence at the edge so no short cut, instead we walk down to the conifer wood, reach the main track then go down to the stile. It's only a few minutes now and once we've walked up the side of the busy road we're back at the cars.

It has been an amazing day. Despite the promise of rain we've only had one wet spell and that didn't drench us. We've enjoyed a long satisfying walk and even been and seen places we've not ventured to before.

Once the wedding is over PC will be back to the ocean waves, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed that family trials and tribulations will ease allowing me to get out again.

BASLOW EDGE AND HIGHLAND CATTLE

PC is off sailing the seven seas with her husband, so for now it is just me and my camera.


Motivation has been hard to come by since my last outing. Daughter is in the throes of her AS level exams - cue high stress and panic - and Mother is in hospital which means endless visits and concerns. Added to these is that my walking partner isn't here to keep me company, and sane, and the weather has been on the wrong side of awful. Still, I decided last night that I had to get out, albeit for only a short walk (time constraints due to above mentioned exams and hospital visits!)

So here I am, very early (for me) parking my car beside the Curbar road beneath Curbar Edge. And for a change the sun is out despite the heavy downpour last night.

It doesn't take me long to get ready then I'm off up the road then through the gate leading onto Baslow Edge. The track is a wide, well used bridleway more like the paths in Country Parks, but within a few yards I turn right onto a narrower, but still well used, path. This leads to a viewpoint complete with map for those who don't know the area too well. And it is a brilliant view from here, reaching well over 180 degrees. The sun is out, there isn't another person in sight, and I feel my tension slip away. I just wish PC was here to share it.

I continue onwards, keeping to the edge rather than returning to the broad track, and I am constantly rewarded by excellent views down to Curbar, behind to Curbar and Froggatt Edges, and beyond. There are boulders and rocks as well as slight dips up and down.

After cresting a slight rise and starting to drop again I see, for the first time and to my horror, a small herd of Highland Cattle. I stare at them warily for a few moments before striding purposefully past them. PC would be proud although, to be honest, I don't think the cattle even notice me.

They were all in possession of extremely impressive horns, though.

Emboldened by my bravery I go up the next rise - it could hardly be called scrambling or climbing despite there being a number of boulders - and pause again to enjoy the views. This walk is turning into more of a stroll with plenty of stops as I don't want it to be over too quickly.

I watch a bird on a stone, possibly a thrush although I am too far away to be certain, with a beak-full of worms for its young then I decide to take out the secret flask. It's too early for a drink, but I need to take the photo for PC!

As I pause for a while I can hear curlews on the moor, their call very distinctive and carrying. It's a pity I've never been able to see one in Derbyshire.

Here and there the ground is a little wet and muddy, but it does drain quite well so close to the edge. That's lucky since the rain of the last few days could have made walking quite unpleasant. At least the sun is still shining, and when the soft breeze drops it is almost warm. I'm not wearing a jacket - a first for this year!

The sun is casting interesting shadows on the boulders that litter the edge, and knowing PCs fondness for boulders I take a photo for her.

There is also a single boulder, perched seemingly very precariously, on the edge of the Edge. Poised on its point it appears on the verge of toppling, but in fact it is very firmly secured!

 

A little way further on and I have a good view of the Eagle Stone, a popular place for a little easy climbing, and in the past youths from Baslow who wanted to prove their fitness for marriage had to climb the Eagle Stone!

 

 

I'm almost at the end of the Edge now and the narrow path I'm following drops down toward Wellington's Monument. There is a bench beneath it should I need a rest (I don't) and for the first time ever there are no other walkers here. I take the opportunity to snap a picture then wait a while as a horse rider approaches then passes. We exchange a 'Good Morning', and she will be the only person I speak to on the whole walk. I do miss PC!

 

 

 

I continue along the long track towards the road. There is woodland to the right, known as Jack Flat, and a drystone wall to the left. And I hear my first cuckoo of the year! Worryingly, there is evidence of cattle too!

 

Nearing the end of the track can see another herd of highland cattle, and some of these have young. For now they are far enough away, and I pause to study one of the many Companion Stones (see www.artsinthepeak.co.uk ) we have found on our walks. This one, on Eaglestone Flat, seems very appropriate for PC - being sail shaped!

 

 Now I'm approaching the gate onto the road and have to admit to being very apprehensive. One of the cows has moved onto the track and two others are approaching. I decide I have to go for it; after all, Highland cattle are supposed to be very placid, and I make it past them with a huge sigh of relief.

 

 

 

 From now on it's the long haul up the road. I decide not to cross over and take the track across the moor given how wet the ground is and how soggy that part of the moor is. I've kept dry so far and want to keep it that way. I am rewarded, though, by the sight of Sweet Cicely growing under one of the drystone walls, and a wonderfully bright yellow clump of celandines.

 

 

The road is quite busy, and being fairly straight some of the cars and vans travel far too fast. On my own it isn't too bad, but I'm glad Mollie isn't here as she really doesn't like traffic.

 

I push the pace on the road, and glancing up I can see that there are some darker clouds in the sky. It doesn't seem likely to rain, not yet anyway, but I wouldn't be surprised if it didn't rain later.

 

Cresting the ridge I see that there are a lot of cars in the car park, many of the walkers emerging to walk along Curbar or Froggatt Edges. It's certainly a good day for it.

 

Down the road now and I'm soon back at the car. Looking up at the edge the dark clouds are beginning to look more ominous.

 

 

 

It's been a fairly short walk, and not at all strenuous. However, the absence of coffee and buns has taken its toll and since I still have plenty of time to spare before collecting daughter from her morning revision session I drive down through Curbar village in search of refreshment.

 

I stop at the Derbyshire Craft Centre and spend a little while browsing in the shop intending to have a quiet coffee when I've finished. However, a hoard (there really is no other description) of walkers - all ladies of a certain age - descend on the shop like a gaggle of angry geese, and making twice as much noise. They head straight into the cafe, their strident tones making me (and others) decide to go elsewhere.

 

I finally end up in The Cafe on the Green in Baslow. It's busy, but not noisy, and I enjoy a coffee with a piece of Lemon Bakewell. A good way to end the day!

SPRING IN CRESSBROOK DALE

PC is off sailing the seven seas with her husband, so for now it's just me and my camera.

Out again, but not on my own this week as Husband has a day off work and is joining me. We don't get out walking anything like as much as we would wish so he's jumped at the opportunity. At least the weather looks to stay fine and we even have some sunshine.

We park the car in the small parking area at the side of the River Wye at Upperdale. We're the only ones here as we're quite early. We pull on our boots then hoist our rucksacks on to our backs (why is mine heavier?) in near silence - no catching up to do and we ran out of sparkling conversation on the journey! Such is married life.

This first part of the walk is on the road, heading towards the imposing facade of Cressbrook Mill, but before we reach it we spot a duck on the river looking extremely exotic in temperate Derbyshire.

This proves to be a talking point as we can't quite decide what it is. (Turns out it is a male Mandarin Duck.) Once the duck has refused to stop to have its photograph taken we move on, and in a nearby field we see some interesting sheep. These, fortunately, are more obliging. My first thought is that they are Hebridean sheep. Why? No idea, but on checking various websites on returning home I'm pretty confident - although if I am wrong please feel free to let me know as I'm no livestock expert.

Ahead is the old mill, now converted into smart living accommodation, and it is the first time Husband has seen it in many years. I tend to forget how infrequently he gets out into the walking heart of Derbyshire despite travelling all over the country for his job.

We take the lane to the right of the mill and begin the steady ascent. We pass a lady with a very old dog, but other than that we see no one else. The birdsong is clear and we can enjoy the fresh green leaves bursting into bud. On the banks at either side of the road there are wood anemones in bloom, sprinklings of white like mini snowdrifts. As we reach the top of our climb and take the footpath towards the Dale we encounter more flowers growing beneath the straight trunks of thin woodland with the sun lighting the path ahead, a typical English spring scene.

It's a straight and fairly level path to a narrow gate and I'm relieved that there are no cows here (there had been in the past when I'd been with PC). However, at the other side of the gate the ground is churned up, a sure sign that cattle are, or have been, in the vicinity. I keep a wary eye open but as we walk into a more open field I can breathe a sigh of relief. No cows. But there is a lovely view over the trees to the distant Cressbrook Dale.

 

 

In the woods at the side, though, there is the most glorious carpet of anemones turning the whole woodland floor white.

 

 



 

 

It's a fairly steep descent here, dreadful when it's slippery, but no problem today. At the bottom is a narrow gated bridge over the dried up stream bed. It's hard to remember that on our last visit the bridge was close to being submerged.

 

The walk along the path in this wooded part of Cressbrook Dale is always very lovely. Birds are very active (we even hear an owl - it must have trouble sleeping) and the ground is carpeted with flowers, mainly anemones but there are bright yellow celandines too. We are following the dried riverbed which looks strangely sinister and primeval.

 

 

 

We continue through the woods until they give way to the wider, open spaces of the limestone dale. Immediately the search is on for the orchids which thrive here, but sadly it seems we are too early - or the weather has been too unkind - because they aren't flowering yet. I do find one eventually and

once I've seen one it is easy to spot dozens, but as yet they are just clusters of leaves with promising buds.

 

The Dale widens out with the sometimes-stream completely dry missing from the bottom. Ahead is a new bridge, replacing the stepping stones over the non-extent water and leading up Tansley Dale. Here we pause for a nip from the secret flask (yes, Husband knows all about it) and I take a scenic photo of said flask on top of the bridge with the Dale in the background, just for PC.

 

 

We continue up the Dale and into the breeze. It isn't too bad, but it is noticeable. The Dale dog-legs and soon we are approaching Peter's Stone, a monumental limestone dome where there was once a gibbet (see an earlier post). We walk up towards the stone then climb to the prominent outcrop beneath it where we can sit and enjoy the wide ranging view up the dale and down past Wardlow Mires towards Foolow.

 

 

After a while we take the path towards Wardlow Mires until we are in the Dale bottom again then turn back. From here there are splendid views of Peter's Stone, though it is a wonder that a gibbet could have been erected here.

 

 

We head off back down the Dale and find a suitable hollow of ground in which to sit for lunch and shelter from the ever present wind. The coffee is very good, and I initiate Husband into the ritual of the buns. Today we have Toffee Pecan Danish Swirls - very sticky but very satisfying.

 

It is tempting to lay back and snooze. Out of the wind it is quite mild but the sun has gone in and the clouds seem to be gathering, so we gather our gear and retreat.

 

We watch some Pied Wagtails bobbing about in the short grass and on the drystone walls before going through the gate into wooded area. Here there is a steep sided clearing with cowslips which we hadn't noticed on our outward walk. I pause to take a picture before we continue.

When we eventually cross the bridge over the dry stream we turn left and follow the course of the stream toward Ravensdale Cottages. Just before the cottages the stream reappears from underground and we can see it bubbling up from beneath some rocks, but beyond the cottages it has disappeared again!

 

Behind the cottages are the cliffs of Ravensdale and there is a notice saying that climbing is not allowed this year as ravens have actually nested on the crags for the first time in many years. Despite using our binoculars we couldn't see them, but it is excellent news, and we hope that climbers don't try to disturb the birds.

 

From here it is a short walk up the long driveway to rejoin the road, and then we are on the downhill stretch to Upperdale and the car. It has been an excellent walk, Husband has thoroughly enjoyed it and so have I - although there has been less conversation than usual! Next time I'll be out on my own again, though.