Tideswell, Litton Mill, Brushfield, Ashford-in-the-Water, and Bakewell

An almost perfect day today; the weather was warm and sunny and ideal for photography, my health was one hundred percent as good as it can be and that's very good these days, public transport ran like clockwork...BUT...it was muddy nearly everywhere I walked. I've brought back several ounces of Derbyshire mud on my boots and trousers...I didn't slip down though.

I got off the bus at the northern end of Tideswell, on the way in, so that I could walk down and take some photographs of the church and whatever else I saw in the area.

I took the path which runs parallel to the road through Tideswell Dale, but is obviously more scenic...but a lot muddier. I then crossed the road into an area of Access Land and the path soon took me up high behind the parking area. I needed to be careful on the steep grassy descent though.

Just past the toilet block there was another path leading onto the Access Land again and I immediately regained all of the height I'd lost, and added a bit more too, arriving at the old quarry...a wonderful spot for wildflowers in the spring and early summer months. It's a sheltered location here and somewhat of a sun trap; it was noticeably several degrees warmer, being protected from the chilliness of the wind on all sides by the sheer quarry walls..

I left the quarry by walking down well over a hundred steps cut into the rock, down to the gravel track at the bottom which comes out just before Litton Mill. These were to be the first of many more hundreds of steps I'd be climbing up and down today...I don't think I've ever come across so many on a walk before.

It was a short stretch along the road to reach Litton Mill - I didn't take any photographs because, despite it being nearly midday, the sun still hadn't risen high enough in the sky to illuminate most of the buildings in this deep narrow valley.

I had to climb up more steps to reach the Monsal Trail, and more still, followed by a difficult muddy ascent up to the rake and then the bridleway which goes to Brushfield.

It was a steady descent of just over a mile to reach the Monsal Trail again, just before the Headstone Viaduct and then the Headstone Tunnel.

After passing through the tunnel I continued for a few minutes before reaching the first path that goes down to Ashford-in-the-Water - there are some lovely views to the north with Longstone Edge looming on the horizon.

By the time I reached Ashford many parts of the village were in shade...but not the church.

The next bus to Bakewell wasn't due for another forty five minutes and so I walked it there taking the pleasant riverside footpath...still more mud to deal with though.

I literally just turned the corner and walked onto the bus at Bakewell, the driver setting off as soon as I'd sat down.

Eyam, Housley, Burnt Heath, Great Longstone, and Bakewell

It was a rushed start this morning. I didn't wake up until 07:30; the cocktail of painkillers I'm taking at night for the dry socket pain after a wisdom tooth extraction makes me drowsy...which is good I suppose.

It was a lovely day today, it actually felt like summer; mostly sunny, warm (hot at times even), and no cold wind...and the wildflowers, they were blooming everywhere - clover, campion, vetch, and buttercups; entire fields of them in places.

I got of the bus at Eyam and walked through the village, taking plenty of photographs.

Towards the far end of the village I took a lane that leads to the south, then a footpath across meadows and then down to Horseshoe Quarry through the grassland and woodland - a lovely spot for picnics.

Because the entrance to Horseshoe Quarry isn't marked on the map I wasn't sure how far along Middleton Dale I'd come out at; regrettably I made the wrong decision and turned right and had to walk for half a mile along a busy road without a pavement until I found a path at Housley.

It was level going along a byway and then some fields until I reached a location which is identified as Burnt Heath on the map, but every time until now when I've been there the sign would show 'Cavendish Mill' - well, now it's called 'Glebe Mines'. It must have new owners.

I then descended down Black Harry Lane into the upper reaches of Coombs Dale, and climbed up the other side to reach the top of Longstone Edge.

I found the safest way down, along a beautiful dry dale and then a lane which comes out near to the church. No chance to photograph the church though because it was covered with scaffolding.

I popped into one of the pubs in Great Longstone and bought a very expensive glass of Diet Coke; in the process of sitting down my map case knocked over a very slender vase in which two lilac-coloured cornflowers had been very carefully positioned. I might have apologised...but I probably just blamed gravity.

On the way from Great Longstone to the Monsal Trail, and then later as I was walking along the Trail, there were some stunning views of fields carpeted with yellow buttercups.

At Bakewell I treated myself to fish and trips in the restaurant - the mushy peas were served in a small stainless steel bucket.

Bakewell, Little Longstone, Monsal Head, and Ashford-in-the-Water

I took a different route through Bakewell to reach the first footpath of the day; the path starts at a very picturesque bridge and then leads up onto pleasant grassy fields with nice views of Longstone Edge.

I then walked through some woodland to reach the road at Rowdale House. As I was waiting for the traffic to pass so that I could take some photographs I noticed how many large lorries there were on this stretch of road, especially delivery lorries and tankers. For the rest of the day I was convinced that the entire Peak District was being clogged up by heavy goods traffic...maybe it only happens on a Wednesday.

It wasn't long until I was on the Monsal Trail, with close-up views of Great Longstone and the Edge behind.

I didn't stay on the Trail for long before taking the path that leads to Little Longstone. Photographs of the pub and the church always seem to be representative of a village.

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It's not far up the road to Monsal Head. Here's my cropped version of the classic view of the valley and the viaduct.

I then took a path which was new to me, down through woodland to the bottom of the valley, crossing the river over a footbridge right next to the weir. The water spilling over the weir today was impressive, roaring like a lion and glistening in the sun like a ton of tumbling diamonds.

The riverside path leads to Lees Bottom, where I timed it just right to catch the TransPeak bus back into Bakewell if my ankle was feeling a bit sore. It was fine though and so I was able to continue with the walk.

The path from the car parking area at Lees Bottom which goes to Ashford-in-the-Water is a bit difficult at first, quite a bit of slippery limestone in places, and one section where the path is actually a stream. Along this section I placed my right hand on a moss covered rock to help with my balance, and was immediately stung. It was quite painful, and remained so for the rest of the walk; even now, as I'm typing, I've got a sensation of 'pins and needles' in my fingertips. This has never happened to me before anywhere in the Peak District; I grab onto all sorts of things for balance and support...but have never been stung, or bitten, before. Maybe it was something in the water.

I arrived unscathed at Ashford and took a photograph of the old bridge from a different angle.

I walked along the path back to Bakewell, and arrived with enough time for some sausage roll therapy and to be sprayed with water by a passing car which seemed to be operating as a mobile fountain. Water, I'm hoping it was only water, was being forced out at quite high pressure in at least four directions.

Welcome to Bakewell; home of the tarts, and the puddings.

Calver, Great Longstone, and Hassop Station

When I left the house this morning at 7:30 it really was quite uncomfortably chilly; however, by the time I reached Calver it was pleasantly warm and sunny, with a refreshing breeze - excellent conditions for walking...and taking photographs.

I started by walking up Coombs Dale; the nearest of the limestone dales to Sheffield. It's not the prettiest, or most interesting of the Derbyshire dales, but it does have some delightful spots, some old mine workings...and dangerous slurry lagoons near to the head of the dale as well.

After passing by a forest of 'Danger', 'Do Not Enter' and  'Prohibited' signs I turned left and climbed uphill towards Longstone Edge. Two of the largest cows I have ever seen, probably six foot tall, briefly blocked my way before deciding to move on. I briefly considered ducking underneath their udders...there was certainly enough room. (The Commonwealth Games opening ceremony in Glasgow is tonight - I wonder if ducking beneath stationary cows is ever likely to feature?)

I needed to cross one of the quarry roads before reaching the top of the climb, holding back for a few seconds as a giant earth moving vehicle passed by, stirring up a large cloud of dust.

The views from the top of Longstone Edge were spoilt today by the hazy conditions down on the plain.

The path down from the edge was difficult, very narrow, eroded, and steep, with brambles clawing at my boots from one side, and gorse bushes trying to poke out my eyes from the other side. There was certainly nothing to hold on to to steady my balance, and I had to get down on my backside a few times.

Taking this route down the approach to Great Longstone is along a short dry valley; I first had to pass through a gate - it was broken before I even touched it, there wasn't much left at all after I'd attempted to open it. (The photograph was taken before I passed through.)

I stopped for refreshments at one of the pubs in Great Longstone, a glass of Diet Coke, and as I left the village I posed for a selfie [of a sort.]

After a few hundred yards I was on the Monsal Trail...and then a pot of tea at Hassop Station Café. I didn't linger; I wanted to catch the 2:30 bus so that I'd arrive back at Sheffield to make sure I wouldn't be caught up in any traffic congestion caused by this evening's cycle race in the city centre.

The bus journey was very comfortable, it wasn't crowded and the vehicle was quite new, so the engine didn't struggle with the hills at all.

However...my journey home to Doncaster on the train was one of the most uncomfortable and unpleasant I've ever experienced. Even as we waited in the station the engine was growling, roaring, and snorting like an angry wild animal . When we started moving things got even worse; every chair, table, luggage rack and fitting was rattling and shaking from side to side as the floor and walls of the carriages were twisting and warping as if they were being pulled into another dimension by an all-powerful evil empire...and my poor genitals...my testicles and the area around my anus; there was a deep thrusting vibration throughout the entire train, resulting in me experiencing a very distressing sensation which felt like that I was being forced to undergo a rare and unusual medical or cosmetic procedure where every hair on my testicles and within striking distance of my anus was being individually pulled out using tweezers...but not using any anaesthetic. 

I walked home from the railway station doing a passable impersonation of John Wayne...and I'm still a bit sore as I'm sitting on the chair typing up this blog post.

Thank you, Northern Rail.

Stoney Middleton, Great Longstone, Hassop Station, and Bakewell.

On Monday I bought a couple of laminated maps which cover all of the Peak District. I needed some new maps, and they seemed to be a bargain.

They should last a lot longer than my old maps, but I did have some problems with them. They are even more difficult to fold than the ordinary paper maps, and won't fit in my map case.

It was annoying having to stop, take off, and unzip my rucksack just to look at the map. After a few stops I'd had enough and decided to stuff the map down the front of my trousers. It was held securely in place, but was restricting my movements a bit when going uphill. I think the best option might be for me to get a cagoule with a large enough pouch at the front.

I got off the bus at Stoney Middleton and took a steep footpath up through the village which was followed by a flatter section of farm track across fields and down into Coombs Dale where I spotted a temporal spacial portal leading to an infinite number of parallel universes.

Deciding to stay in this universe I climbed out of Coombs Dale along a side valley which isn't named on the map, and then took the track which leads down to Rowland. I didn't go to Rowland though; instead I branched off along Hardrake Lane, a well-defined footpath half way up Longstone Edge with good views in most directions. By now the sun was breaking through the clouds and so I was able to get a few decent photographs.

The first was taken along Hardrake Lane looking back at where I'd just come from, and the second, looking back again, this time at Longstone Edge just as I was about to enter a small dry dale to the north of Great Longstone. Since reaching the area where these two photographs had been taken my camera had been warning me about the battery needing recharging: I managed to take a few shots of the church as I entered the village...but that was it.

I crossed the main street in Great Longstone and took a footpath leading towards the Monsal Trail: there are several. This one, in places was a ginnel, and in other places was a snicket. Both of these words are used in Yorkshire dialect and so I don't know how far south their usage in Derbyshire might reach.

I soon reached the Monsal Trail, and then Hassop Station, where I stopped for refreshments; a pot of tea and a scone.

There was no rush to catch the bus and so I sat on a bench just beyond the old station. After a few minutes two women walked by, chatting loudly. Suddenly one of them stopped mid-sentence and pointed at me and told her friend that she had planted the tree behind me many years ago, and then, in just as strident a manner informed her companion that they've now put a bench in front of it...the bench I was sitting on.

I didn't hear either of them make reference to me though, but I didn't know what to say, or do; so I said nothing and did nothing - I just continued sitting where I was until it was time to walk to the bus-stop at Pineapple House Farm.

As I was waiting for the bus I noticed a small mammal run across the road, something long and slender: a stoat, weasel, polecat, or ferret. Take your pick; I don't know the difference.

Foolow, Housley and Calver.

Today's walk didn't follow the original route I had planned because a couple of footpaths had been closed. The reason they were closed is clear in the photograph; they cross an area of land near to some old flooded quarry workings, and must be deemed to be unsafe at the moment.

I started the walk at Foolow and walked down the road towards the hamlet of Housley; somewhere I haven't visited before - it's only half a dozen farm buildings and houses though. I crossed the main road and took the footpath to the left. This goes in a straight line for over half a mile, something very unusual in the Peak District; and was as wide and well maintained as a bridleway.

I then arrived just to the west of Cavendish Mill; despite its rather grand aristocratic-sounding name, it's a bit of an eyesore actually. I had then intended to turn right and find the first footpath leading over towards Longstone Edge, but I ended up taking the photo where the footpath sign should have been; the next path, a bit further down the road, was no longer there either.

I continued down the road for about another ten minutes until I located a footpath leading across fields going in approximately the direction I required. This took me to a track, and then a path, which skirted to the south of the area which had been closed off; some rather out-of-this-world slurry ponds which seemed to give off a kind of diffused, translucent glow.

At the end of a piece of woodland I climbed up some fields to pass by a farm and then continued along a road until I reached a popular viewpoint on Longstone Edge. From here I took the restricted byway up the hill towards High Rake. I'm not sure if these are still active workings along here or not, but the deep gash in the ground caused by the quarrying is very impressive in its own way; like a miniature Grand Canyon. I took some photographs, but I couldn't get close enough to the cliff edge for the really spectacular angles...I'm a coward!

The byway continued for another mile or so and then I took a path across pastures which gave me some lovely views looking down at Calver and Froggatt, northwards towards Hathersage, and across the valley to Froggatt Edge.

When I got on the bus at Calver I noticed that it had a couple of posters advertising the details of Doncaster's Park & Ride scheme; it must have been used to provide the service at one time.

Baslow, Hassop, Rowland and Calver.

I got off the bus at Baslow church and soon left the village by crossing the old bridge and then walking along an overgrown snicket. As soon as I had arrived in open countryside I noticed something in the distance over to my right.

If you enlarge the photo you can see that there are two oblong-shaped copses where some of the trees have been felled to spell out the letters 'E' and 'R' - I will let you draw your own conclusions.

I then continued uphill across the fields and along the road to Hassop. En route I noticed some foxgloves in bloom. These are flowering several weeks earlier  than the foxgloves in my garden; I have noticed this with all the plants in my garden. With me living at low altitude in Doncaster the average temperature is a few degrees warmer than it is in the Peak District and so you'd expect my plants to be flowering earlier, yet this isn't the case...even though my garden has a southwesterly aspect. The only reason I can think for this is that I have a large oak tree in my garden which sucks up most of the available water and leaves most parts of the garden in shade for prolonged periods.

It was only a few hundred yards across more fields to Rowland, a pretty little village situated at the foot of Longstone Edge.

Next I climbed up onto the edge, and was pleasantly surprised how much better my breathing was - I'm hoping I'm finally getting rid of my bronchitis.

The final section of the walk was along Coombs Dale, where there were some lovely displays of wildflowers.

I soon arrived at Calver, where I popped in the café and enjoyed a ten item cooked breakfast in the middle of the afternoon.

UPDATE: I've just received this informative reply from a member of one of the online walking forums of which I'm a member:

Hi there - I live in Baslow - what you saw on the hillside (under what is known locally as Crocodile Wood from its shape) was planted to commemorate the Coronation of Elizabeth II - it was replanted a few years ago. It is not felled trees which create the letters but larch which stand out against the darker trees in the rest of the patch.
Chatsworth did another one to commemorate the Queen's Golden Jubilee (in Chatsworth Park) - this one was done in stone - so far as I know they were made to remove it by the Peak National Park.