Hope, Little Hucklow, Windmill, Wardlow Mires, Wardlow, Great Longstone, and Bakewell

A change of plan today; I left the house early this morning and so ended up at Sheffield bus station just before eight o'clock. Since the Castleton bus was due in a few minutes I got on it rather than waiting another thirty minutes for the Bakewell bus, which was my intended plan.

I travelled to Hope and headed south out of the village along the road which leads to the cement works and Pindale. There were some lovely views of the Great Ridge along here.

I took the footpath which goes alongside the perimeter fence of the works, but didn't go all the way down into Bradwell.

Instead I stayed on higher ground, walking along the quarry road and then Smalldale Head Road. Whilst I was on this stretch of the walk the sky became very dark and it started to spit with rain although I could see bright sunshine ahead of me to the south...something to look forward to. Alas, I never reached the sunshine; by the time I arrived at Bakewell it was cloudy there too. The weather was disappointing today - much better was forecast.

I arrived at Little Hucklow, walked the entire length of the village and then across the fields to the hamlet of Windmill - the best views were over to my left.

I ate my sandwiches sitting on a bench at the site of the old lead rake before continuing down the road towards Wardlow Mires and then the bridleway which goes along Silly Dale. I don't think this should be a bridleway though; I could see that horses regular use the route but I wouldn't feel comfortable, or even safe, passing horses at close quarters here. In places it's quite narrow and it's enclosed by dry stone walls at both sides meaning that there's nowhere to get out of the way of anyone on horseback.

The only way to reach Wardlow is by using the road. It started to drizzle a bit as I approach. The only subject I found to photograph was the church - it's small and not very old.

The next footpath led on to the southern end of Longstone Moor and then a lovely descent down into Great Longstone. I have not used this path before and I enjoyed the distant views of Monsal Head and Little Longstone which I haven't seen before from this angle.

I walked through Great Longstone from west to east; this piece of metalwork caught my eye; I'm not sure if it's part of the pub sign at the White Lion, or not.

I had to rush a bit to reach Bakewell in time for the bus; I've done the walk before and so it wasn't a problem...I didn't miss anything. I arrived just a couple of minutes before the bus was schedule to depart...but it was five minutes late.

I noticed a few twinges in my right knee today - I hope this isn't a sign of problems to come.

Brough, Bradwell, and Castleton

I couldn't wear my regular boots this morning; my right boot didn't fit, it was too tight - the laces were digging in to the top of my instep. So, I wore another pair, an older pair of Berghaus boots which are no longer fully waterproof, but still very comfortable. I'm wondering if this problem with my instep might be connected to the bone spurs I've got growing on the back of my heels which have been causing tightness and pain in my Achilles' tendons.

I got off the bus at Brough and immediately took the wrong path, the path at the wrong side of the river. It didn't take me long to realise my mistake and cross over the bridge and find the correct path. There were some nice views as I was walking along this path towards Bradwell, an easy low level route. I've selected a photograph I took of the Hope Cement Works which were brightly illuminated by the morning sunlight.

A few minutes later I was taking photographs in the village of Bradwell and called in the shop and bought some sausage rolls to eat later.

I climbed up the steep path and steps to eventually reach the road that leads to Pindale and Castleton. There were some lovely views as I got higher...not from every viewpoint though because in some places the unattractive roofs of several of the buildings in the small industrial estate can be seen.

The next section was flat, walking across limestone grassland and well-maintained tracks suitable for vehicles.

When I  was still quite a distance from Mam Tor I could see there were a lot of people on the summit, the most I've ever seen...there were also many vehicles parked on the various approach roads.

I didn't climb Mam Tor today, I turned right and walked down Winnats Pass, which is always spectacular. None of my photographs were really any good; the contrast seemed to be too high and much of the detail was washed out. The image I've selected, because I do like this one, was taken right at the bottom of Winnats Pass after I'd been to the toilets which are hidden away at the back of one of the ancillary buildings next to the car park for Speedwell Cavern.  

When I got down into Castleton it was very busy too; I'm thinking that this might be because it's Valentine's Day today, the weather was fine, it's a weekend...and Chatsworth House is closed until the end of next month due to the renovation works. 

I was hungry, and unusually for me I queued, for ten minutes, for some chips and mushy peas. I wasn't this hungry though.

Due to roadworks at both Hathersage, and Bamford, the bus was fifteen minutes late. The latter part of the journey back to Sheffield was rather cramped and uncomfortable...and potentially dangerous. A large bouldering mattress nearly fell on me and I nearly had my eye poked out by the point of another walker's walking pole.

Great Hucklow, Little Hucklow, Coplow Dale, Bradwell, and Castleton

My friend Justin phoned me just after 07:30 this morning as I was getting ready. He told me that he couldn't sleep and had watched 'Skyfall,' the most recent James Bond film, on DVD. He told me that it was rubbish and had none of the elements he wanted in a Bond film, exotic locations, glamorous women, evil villains, and some good repartee and humour. I agreed with him on every point and also that Daniel Craig isn't the right man to play Bond. I was able to keep the conversation going by using my free hand to gather things and place them either in the pockets of my ski jacket or the various compartments of my rucksack. However, I had to end the phone call when I started to put on my boots; I need two hands for that - and a bit of brute strength too.

The Plymouth train was waiting on the platform at Doncaster Station. It would be going via Sheffield, it couldn't really go by any other route, although the ticket inspector was a bit uncertain as she welcomed us aboard. Of course it did go to Sheffield, and got there twenty five minutes later.

A few minutes later as I got on the bus and was scanning my travel pass I thought I heard the driver greet me by name, saying, "Good Morning, Lee." This startled me a bit; I replied with a vigorous 'Good Morning' and left it at that; there were a lot of people behind me queueing to board. Maybe he recognised me from my profile picture here or elsewhere online; of course, this blog is as much about public transport as it is about walking.

As the bus passed over the moors near to Fox House I could see that the higher land in the distance, The Great Ridge and Kinder Plateau, was covered with snow.

I got off the bus at  Great Hucklow and walked through the village to pick up the byway which leads to Little Hucklow.

  

The track was icy, and slippery in places. I slipped once and landed on my backside; fortunately I know how to fall down correctly by  re-distributing my weight and relaxing my muscles: I learned this technique at college many years ago - on a performing arts course.

There were some lovely views of the White Peak countryside as I carefully picked my way down to the road.

The approach to Little Hucklow was along the road, often icy in places too; fortunately there was a verge to walk on most of the time.

I found the footpath which leads northwards to Coplow Dale. At Coplow Dale I got waylaid. As I passed one of the most ramshackle and rundown cottages I've ever seen the occupant came running towards me wanting to know the time. I told him; it was 11:06. He commented that that was a very precise answer and we ended up chatting for about fifteen minutes about the local area and its history, and some of the characters he'd known....and his new cowshed, which was only new in the 1950s though. He was certainly a character himself; he was a ringer for Father Abraham from The Smurfs

He was very proud of his cowshed but it was an eyesore built of breeze blocks and corrugated steel. I didn't mention this, I also didn't comment on the long thumbnail he had, over an inch long and curved backwards like a talon.

He paused for breath and I made my excuses and continued towards Bradwell, across the fields, along a very short stretch of country lane and then along the footpath that stays high above Jennings Dale...more lovely views to enjoy.

I reached the road and then headed straight for the viewing platform which overlooks the quarry workings. I was hoping that there'd be no-one there and I'd be able to finish off my sandwiches; well, there wasn't anyone there, but there wasn't a seat either - so I ate my sandwiches a few minutes later sitting on a boulder.

I entered Bradwell in the Smalldale area, but soon left again as I took the path which would take me to Castleton, going by/through the cement plant.

The entire complex, both the quarry and the cement plant and ancillary buildings is known as 'Hope Works.' As I was walking past the chimney and the building that I think is the washery I started to think about James Bond again and how Hope Works would be a great location for the secret base of a devious villain - and would make a decent title for the film too.

I didn't have far to go now, just along the road to Castleton; more great views of the Hope Valley though.

I could smell the fish and chips long before I arrived at the fish and chip shop. I was quite muddy and thought about not going in, but the floor is tiled and there were other walkers already standing at the counter. I needn't have worried, a couple of minutes later a cave diver was standing next to me; she was wearing a very dirty wet suit, goggles, and two air cylinders on her back...she did ask for permission though. [I did check that she wasn't wearing flippers, she had wellies on.]

After eating my meal I had a wander round the village; I found something which I think is so out of place for Castleton, so I took a photograph.

What is an American food angel?