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.

Calver, Stoney Middleton, Eyam, Highcliffe, Leadmill, and Hathersage.

I was fortunate that I wasn't in a rush to catch my bus at Sheffield this morning. The train almost overshot the platform; a short one carriage train and the longest platform at Sheffield Midland. This meant that I had what seemed to be like a walk of several hundred yards back along the platform...and then when I finally reached the main concourse area, the most convenient doors for accessing the bus station were blocked by an advertising hoarding.

As I was travelling on the bus I noticed that there was still a lot of snow on the ground - especially the higher, more exposed areas. It was fine when I got off the bus at Calver Crossroads though, and I walked along the road to Stoney Middleton. The sun was shining and was just at the right angle to illuminate a particularly attractive cottage as I walked by; if it wasn't for the snow you might think it was in the Mediterranean somewhere.

I then walked over the fields to Eyam, the snow being quite deep in places; I noticed that there were some deep footprints where people must have sunk in up to their knees.

The views along this section are always nice though.

As I entered Eyam I greeted the milkman: he wasn't using a milk float though. (We haven't had our milk delivered in Doncaster for many years.)

I then climbed up towards Highcliffe, passing another Peak District alpaca farm. The higher part of this footpath was quite slippery, and so I put on my ice grippers; which then remained on for most of the rest of the walk. At times later on in the day snowshoes would have been more useful though. 

I passed a couple of gates; easily stepping over one because the snow was deep, but compacted...but nearly tripping up over the next one.

I walked along the road to Highcliffe and then continued  towards Bretton. This road, like all of the roads I walked along today, had been ploughed, but snow was piled very high at the side...much higher than I am tall...and looking quite precarious in places. 

I turned off the road before reaching Bretton and took a track to the right. Farm vehicles had been using this track and so it was easy to walk along, but as soon as I arrived at a point where several footpaths and bridleways met I knew I would have to modify my route: the path that I had intended to use was blocked by three foot of snow. So, I climbed over a stile next to a locked gate and went along another farm track, which then became merely a footpath across fields which were quite deep with snow in places, but just about passable. It was hard work though walking through 18ins deep snow, made slightly easier by using the deep footprints already made by other walkers.

A few minutes later I reached the western edge of Eyam Moor and the snow was even deeper, and after a while I was really struggling - each step was such an effort.  I noticed that the snow on the lee side of the wall next to the footpath wasn't anywhere near as deep and so when I found a spot where the difference between the height of a snowdrift and the top of the wall was at its lowest, I made a beeline for it, and with the combination of a Fosbury Flop inspired jump and a commando-style roll I ended up in a clump of heather on the other side of the wall - just where I wanted to be.

A bit later on I had to negotiate a stretch of undulating snowdrifts, each about twenty foot high; scrambling up to the top and sliding down the other side on my backside.  I reached the bottom of Bretton Clough at Stoke Ford and then followed various paths to Leadmill. The snow was still quite deep in places, and some stretches were icy; but I coped okay, reaching the road at Leadmill unscathed.

I arrived at Hathersage twenty minutes before the bus was due, just as a few snow flurries started falling.