Cutthroat Bridge, Bamford, Thornhill, and Brough

I caught the first available bus to the Peak District from Sheffield this morning, the 273 bus to Castleton. I got off at Cutthroat Bridge, walked along the verge for a few hundred yards and then took the track which leads across Acess Land to the grouse butts on Bamford Moor.

Throughout the day the weather was far better than yesterday; it was only sunny for about an hour though, fortunately when I had the best views as I was looking down to Ladybower Reservoir and Ashopton Viaduct from Bamford Edge, but it wasn't misty, even when it was quite overcast at times.

This first photograph was taken just as the sun was starting to break through the clouds; I'm pointing the camera at where I've just been.

I spent about five minutes waiting for the sun to come out again at the next location, my first proper sight of the reservoir. It remained cloudy, so I moved on.

Maybe only ten minutes later and I was bathed in lovely bright sunshine; the views were magnificent; I think I struggled with the camera a bit though; the photographs seem a bit flat. Although it can't be seen on the photographs, when I was standing here I was able to see my first snow of the winter, a few remaining patches in the deepest and highest up of the gullies near to the top of Kinder Scout on the horizon.

I arrived at the road which climbs up from Bamford and then walked down Bamford Clough, a steep track with a lot of loose stones and debris from a concrete path which was laid many years ago. At both the top and the bottom the route had been blocked at one time; I could easily get past the obstructions...but it means that mountainbikers and off-road motorcyclists are prevented from going this way - probably a good idea.

I popped into the community cafe in Bamford, which shares the building with The Angler's pub, also owned and managed by the local community. I was tempted by the cream tea, costing only £2.85.  I decided to let the metformin tablets do a bit of work for me today; I had hardly any sugar at all yesterday, I ate mainly roast vegetables. I've walked at least ten miles on my two walks this weekend and so the calories won't do too much harm either...I don't want to be losing weight too quickly anyhow.

I crossed over the River Derwent using the bridge and the stepping stones at Bamford Mill.

It was only a short walk across the fields to Thornhill; as I passed the Primitive Methodist Chapel I noticed how primitive indeed they are, or were then, the letter 'Z' on the inscription is written back-to-front.

It was a steady walk downhill to the main Hope Valley trunk road. Yet again my path was blocked, this time it was just probably someone being thoughtless...I just walked straight over it.

I decided to catch the bus back to Sheffield from the bus shelter at Brough and I didn't have long to wait.

Cutthroat Bridge To Hope.

I got off the bus and walked alongside the road for a couple of minutes until I reached the stile for the access land on Bamford Moor. For the first half a mile or so the route was a track, but I soon broke off to the right, walking over dead bracken, down into Jarvis Clough. This was easy today, but at the height of summer when the bracken is taller than me, this won't be the case. 

I jumped across the beck and climbed up the other side of Jarvis Clough. As I reached the top I caught my first glimpse of the water in Ladybower Reservoir: further on, the views were lovely.

At just about the most inaccessible point of today's walk I came across this notice:

I'm not sure what someone with a dog is supposed to do when they read this; kill their dog maybe? I didn't see any canine carcasses though.

The path then gradually descended towards the road. I first had to pass by a phalanx of tree monsters guarding the approaches to a magical forest inhabited by grotesque goblins from a Central European fairytale.

I have never seen so many twisted and contorted trees in the same place; every one of them was like this.

A few minutes later I reached the road, right at the side of the commemorative monument, and then continued down to the foot of the dam wall, crossing over the River Derwent on the road bridge. I then climbed up past the old railway, walking through woodland and meadows: my friend Justin disturbed me as I was lying on the grass enjoying the sunshine, phoning me to tell me about a change of plan for our regular pub meeting in town next week.

The last couple of miles was a steady downhill walk across fields. Both of the cafés in Hope were full; there were no empty seats inside or outside, so I popped in to one of the tea rooms for a quick pot of tea and a Bakewell tart before catching the bus back to Sheffield.

It was quite a brief walk today; the best of the weather had passed by one o'clock, as forecast, my knee was hurting me a bit, and I was tired after a late night last night, meeting up with friends in Leeds.