Great Hucklow, Windmill, Old Dam, Beytonsdale, and Castleton.

The guard on the train this morning announced that we would be ten minutes late leaving Doncaster due to overrunning engineering works. This meant that I'd miss the 272 bus at Sheffield, and so would have to catch a later service, to a different destination. After checking my bus timetables, which were still wet after last week's soaking on the Great Ridge, I decided to catch the 65 and start my walk from Great Hucknall. Fortunately there was plenty of room, and even a table, for me to re-fold my map en route. There was plenty of time at Sheffield Midland Station to visit the toilets and pop into the Sainbury's shop there and buy something extra to eat. All I could find was a packet of Welsh cakes; I've never tried these before, in fact, until today I'd never heard of them. They looked a bit like Derby scones, which I think are delicious (never served as part of a cream tea though). Later in the day I was to find out that they didn't taste that much like Derby scones; they were much lighter and not as buttery...but did contain more currants. There were six in the pack and I ate them all; so I must have enjoyed them.

I got off the bus as planned at Great Hucknall and walked through the village, then along the road and a path that goes parallel to the road, until I reached the hamlet of Windmill. There were some pretty views along this section; spoiled somewhat by the poor visibility though. A few hundred yards beyond Windmill there's a gate which is the access to High Rake. Almost immediately there are the ruins of High Rake Mine, with a detailed information board, and a bench facing northwards to  appreciate the view of  Hucklow Edge over to the east. It was 10:45 by now and so the cricket commentary was just beginning: time for my sandwiches and a rummage in my rucksack for my radio. As I ate my sandwiches and Welsh cakes, England got off to a bad start for the day; they did easily win the test match against New Zealand by mid-afternoon though.

Here's a photograph of part of the information board at High Rake Mine; the part with the largest lettering.

I continued walking along High Rake and then crossed a narrow country lane and took the path that continued in the same direction. I was now walking along, and sometimes in the bottom of, Tideslow Rake. This is a very prominent, and impressive landscape feature, the largest in the Peak District I think. Here are two photographs I took, facing both directions, to try and show how large it is, stretching for over a mile - all dug by hand I should think.

  

When I was in the bottom of the rake I heard the sound of a loud engine and looked up to see a low-flying light aircraft; a very small one - a very flimsy single-seater.

After reaching the end of Tideslow Rake I walked along the road for a short distance and then took a path across the field, and then a single track lane, to Old Dam. I continued along this lane to reach Beytonsdale, a hamlet I hadn't visited before.

I took another path leading uphill across more fields and then reached the road, right next to Eldon Quarry. Just before reaching the quarry I saw an eviscerated frog on the grass.

I walked along the old quarry road and then along the section of the Limestone Way which leads down Cave Dale into Castleton. 

As I was approaching Castleton the weather rapidly improved, as you can tell  from this picture I took at the bottom end of Cave Dale, only about a hundred yards from Castleton's market place.

The bus was waiting in at the bus station; service number 273 which goes to Sheffield via the Ladybower Reservoir and the Upper Derwent Valley. The journey back to Sheffield was lovely, especially the section when the bus travels the entire length of the reservoir's upper arm to the visitor centre at Fairholmes. The last time I was here I was in a car with two friends from Leeds listening to Wagner on the CD player...and that was even better. 

I had time to get a cup of tea at Sheffield railway station; however I had to stand on the train, struggling with my drink as it slurped about in the plastic cup. I had a bit of an accident as the train turned sharply to the right just beyond Swinton station when what should have been a sip of scolding hot tea ended up inside my nostrils. Strangely, the hot tea didn't seem to drain back out from my nostrils though.

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.

Tideswell, Windmill, Little Hucklow and Bradwell.

Today has been the second day of the Bakewell Show and since all the roads leading to the town would be very busy I decided to catch a bus that stayed well away; the number 65 to Buxton, and got off at Tideswell.

Tideswell is such a pretty little town at this time of the year; there are flowers everywhere, hanging baskets, containers and troughs decorating nearly every building.

I wandered around the streets and alleyways for about twenty minutes and then set off down a country lane in a northerly direction. I soon arrived at the Baslow to Chapel-en-le-Frith road. The road was very busy and so I hurried along the next section of the walk until I reached the footpath that leads towards Tideslow Rake - this is the best example of this type of landscape feature I've seen so far. A rake is a man-made linear feature in the landscape; a series of old surface mine workings following the line of a mineral seam or vein; excavations down to the bare rock and grass-covered spoil heaps.

A bit further on there's a less obvious rake, High Rake, with fabulous views to the north and east though; all the way to Lose Hill, Win Hill and the Hope Valley.

I then arrived at Windmill, a hamlet I've not visited before, and then walked across grassy fields to Little Hucklow.

Next I walked to the north across fields again and then along the road in Bradwell Dale. The views towards Bradwell Edge are impressive here, and I enjoyed watching several paragliders launching themselves into the air off the edge, and then spiralling upwards as they caught the thermals.

(This photograph was actually taken looking in the other direction though.)

Since it's now the school holidays the 15:09 bus from Bradwell goes all the way to Sheffield - I arrived in the village just in time to catch it.