Kinder Edge With Chris

Well today I might have been to somewhere that doesn't actually exist...or to a place where I've made up the name. I've always known the edge which marks the northern extremity of the Kinder Plateau as 'Kinder Edge,' yet there seem to be no references to this term online; additionally Ordnance Survey maps just call it 'The Edge.'

I managed to arrive at Sheffield Bus Station in time to catch the Fox House bus and meet Chris for ten o'clock, this being despite there being no trains again...and the bus I had to travel to Sheffield on having an oil leak.

I normally arrive in Sheffield by train and am able to use the toilets on the platform for free, this isn't the case at the bus station though. It costs 20p to go, but it cost me 40p this morning because my money got stuck in the mechanism and the electrics inside the turnstile had to re-boot, hanging on to my first 20p in the process.

Chris was waiting for me when the bus reached Fox House; I got off and we immediately drove to the start of the walk at the Birchen Clough parking area on the Snake Pass.

After Chris had got ready we crossed the road and walked over to the Snake Woodlands, turning south and walking along the bottom of the valley, then gradually climbing up to open moorland on Ashop Moor. There are some lovely views of Kinder Edge from here.

We reached Ashop Head and then climbed up on to the plateau from where there are extensive views of Manchester and beyond. I'm not exactly sure of the geography but I'm claiming to have identified Pendle Hill, the Clywdian Range, and Snowdonia.

There were some interesting rock formations to look at as we walked along the edge, we had a bit of fun naming them since they aren't named on the map. When we approached the location where the next photograph was taken we decided we'd better to be very quiet and give the sleeping stegosaurus a wide berth.

More rocks and nice views.

We made our way back down to the car via Fairbrook Clough, another name which doesn't appear on the map. This is difficult descent, Chris said it was as difficult as anything he'd encountered in the Lake District.

I was struggling; I had two severe attacks of cramp, the worst I've ever had...I needed to swallow a couple of extra vitamin D tablets. When I see the nurse on Tuesday I will have to mention this to her.

We arrived down at the Snake Pass road at a very pretty spot.

At this point we made a decision; because my walking pace had significantly slowed we decided that Chris would return to the car and pick me up at the Snake Inn...which I noticed is now called the 'The Snake Pass Inn.' This saved my legs over half a mile.

I was dropped off at Malin Bridge where I caught the tram back to Sheffield City Centre. When I arrived at the railway station there were still no trains running to Doncaster.  I had to walk to the bus station and catch a rail replacement coach. There were some railway staff there and so I complained because there was no advanced information about the line closure on either the Northern Rail webpage or the SYPTE site, where I thought such details would be updated. I was told that all the details had been posted on an obscure railway engineering website six months ago; I told the man that I wasn't interested in railways...I just wanted to get home. He then got on his high horse and told me that I was the first person to complain today, well boo hoo; what did he expect me to do, give him a slice of cake, or kiss him?

That's the bloody trouble with people today, no-one complains, no-one wants any confrontation in our over polite, politically correct world inhabited by special snowflakes.

As I was sitting on the bus waiting for it to set off for Doncaster several people wanted to get on without first having purchased tickets, this is actually allowed on some trains; the guard will sell you a ticket. So...a massive heated argument flared up between the driver and about three or four women who hadn't got tickets. They were told to wait until a member of staff working for the appropriate train operating company arrived with his or her ticket machine. They weren't happy; I'm not sure if they got on the bus or not. To be honest I was with the woman, if a train company doesn't provide a service you shouldn't be expected to pay for that non-existent service, quite a radical and shocking idea...send for the thought police to kick down my door and taser me.

Long live the revolution!

Ashopton, Win Hill, Hope, and Castleton.

I got off the bus at the Ladybower Inn, and unusually, was soon talking to someone who would end up being my walking companion for the next hour or so as we climbed to the summit of Win Hill. His name was Tony.

We walked south along the road and then turned right to cross the dam wall, then took a path through the woods which soon intersected with the route up Parkin Clough. I reckon that this is the steepest route up Win Hill: I needed to stop for about half a dozen rests. If he were on his own I doubt that Tony would have stopped at all, despite his being at least ten years older than me. I was still pleased with my level of fitness though, it seems to be improving all the time, and having someone else with me spurred me on.

After taking photos and chatting for a while on the summit we went our separate ways; Tony in the direction of the Kinder Plateau, and myself down to Hope. I found a route, part of which I hadn't walked along before, which took me down to the main Hope Valley road, just to the east of Hope.

A few hundred yards and I was at the Old Hall Tea Rooms; arriving just in time so that I could still order something from the breakfast menu...a full English breakfast and a pot of tea.

I took my time eating my meal; the weather was a bit miserable and I was only planning walking the two miles or so into Castleton, and so wanted to make the day last.

Eventually I did leave and started heading westwards, but after about five minutes I realised I had forgotten my map; I'd left it hanging on the back of the chair when I left. So, I quickly returned to the tearooms where the waitress was expecting me - and then made my way back towards Castleton.

I soon walked past the field where people were making preparations for tomorrow's Hope Show (August 27th.) - I noticed how all the tents and marquees seemed to be white and lacked any garish sponsorship logos on them: Maybe it's a stipulation with the event being held in a National Park.

By now it was raining, but not very heavily. The next thing I noticed was that a concessionary path that I wasn't even aware of, had been closed; the sign explains the reasons.

I also noticed some interesting, and rather attractive I thought, pieces of sculpture which seem to have been abandoned in the field which the footpath would have crossed. I wonder if the two facts are connected?

The intensity of the rain was increasing and so for the last half a mile or so into Castleton I walked pretty quickly; arriving with only a few minutes to wait for the bus.