Tideswell Wakes Week, Wheston, Peak Forest, Old Dam, and Castleton

The journey on the bus from Sheffield to Tideswell was very cramped and uncomfortable, at times even being painful when I couldn't get any relief by moving my legs. I had to fold up my sun hat and use it as a cushion for my right knee, and kept rubbing my left thigh to maintain the blood circulation, being careful not to touch up the woman who was sitting next to me whose thigh was tightly wedged up against me. In the process of rubbing my thigh my left elbow was positioned very close to her right tit; she did seem to be helping me out though by turning in towards me so that my elbow could nestle in her cleavage; the extra couple of inches available made all the difference. I'm sure she would have liked to move a bit further away but couldn't because she already had one leg and half of her body in the aisle, as did the large man sitting opposite. There's not much room on some of these buses.

When I got off the bus I spent a bit of time to make sure I hadn't suffered any injuries, strains or pulled muscles in my legs or lower back. I was fine, did a few basic stretching exercises and then wandered round the town taking photographs; there was plenty for me to snap - it's 'Tidza Wakes Week' and today is Carnival day.

The highlight for me was the 'Victorian Street' where all the houses were dressed as traditional nineteenth century shops and businesses. It seemed to be open house in every home, with various local charities and community groups organising displays and holding a coffee morning. In truth I would have liked to stay longer, and did consider changing my plans and cancelling the walk. The problem was that the main street through Tideswell would be closed during the Carnival and the buses wouldn't be serving the town and I didn't know what, if any, alternative arrangements had been made - I didn't know in advance that it was Carnival day today and so hadn't checked.

After briefly popping in the church I found one of the country lanes that leads of to the west, to Wheston, briefly passing through the village before walking down into Hay Dale - I had to use my backside though.

I continued heading north along Dam Dale until I reached Peak Forest where I popped in the pub for a pot of tea and a slice of apple pie; the landlady reckoned I was more of a Bakewell Pudding type of man though.

I soon reached Old Dam, then climbed up to the grasslands above Castleton, and finally scampered down Winnats Pass hoping to catch the 15:55 bus. 

I was a few minutes late arriving at Castleton and so had an hour to wait for the next bus. I decided to go and have a drink in the Peak Inn, just across the road from the bus station. By now the sky had clouded over and so any photographs I took probably wouldn't be that good...and there was another reason; I'd broken the electronic viewfinder on my camera and so I would be taking any photographs 'blind'...just like I did with the last two shots here of Mam Tor.

Not only did I break my camera today, the third one in five years, but the zip on my trousers also came apart. I think I can repair the zip with a short piece of string and some pliers...but not the camera of course.

By the way, if you're wondering why I seem to break a lot of cameras; it's part of my general clumsiness caused by my Asperger's syndrome. I've got no proprioceptive sense and so therefore can't work out where my fingers are in relation to the rest of my body and my immediate environment, and how much force to use when grabbing or lifting an object...or just touching something. Although I'm really awkward and clumsy during the daytime, I have no loss of dexterity at night. Before my diagnosis I seriously thought that I could see in the dark. 

Miller's Dale, Wheston, and Bradwell

There was no sign of any Global Warming today; at times it was unpleasantly chilly and I reckon it's been one of the coldest summer days I've ever experienced.

I had another uncomfortable journey on the bus today. It was full to the maximum capacity as it left Sheffield bus station, two walking groups and a church group (I think) going to a seminar in Buxton added to the numbers. Fortunately, the members of one of the walking groups got off at Fox House, only twenty minutes into the journey. This helped quite a bit though, it meant that the man sitting next to me could move a few inches away from me and put his left leg in the aisle. He seemed to have been rather unsettled about me having to ram my left knee into his upper thigh (I suppose my having to regularly rub my own knee to keep the blood circulation going didn't impress him at all) - I was more more concerned though about a young man standing a few feet away who was drinking a takeaway coffee and trying not to spill it or fall over.

As the bus passed through Tideswell it was obvious that it was 'Tidza Wakes and Welldressing' - even at 10:30 it was very busy. I got off a few miles down the road at Miller's Dale. It was drizzling a bit by now and so I struggled with my 'Poncho-in-a-Bag' - ending up looking more like a refugee from the Glastonbury Festival than a serious hiker....it did the job though, keeping me dry for the next half an hour or so until the weather cleared up.

I walked up the road to the point where I could access the Limestone Way, soon passing the farm with a particularly tricky 'bisexual gate' (it swings both ways and it's bloody difficult to get the bolt in the right hole.) I was high above Monk's Dale at this point but I didn't fancy taking the valley bottom path; it would have been far too challenging for me at this time of year...overgrown, wet, and boulder-strewn. I did walk along Monk's Dale a couple of years ago but the ground was frozen solid; the temperature hadn't got above freezing for several days and so conditions underfoot were favourable...and, of course, the undergrowth had died back.

A few hundred yards beyond the farm I could enjoy a nice view over to my left; the weather was murky but it's possible to make out a rather pretty hill with cows and sheep on its flank, I think it's got a nice shape...it's called Knot Low.

I reached the road at Monksdale House and then continued towards Wheston, passing by a clump of three dead trees.

I then walked down a byway called 'Water Lane' and reached the road that leads to Tideswell. I turned left and headed westwards, away from Tideswell, and stopped to photograph a sign, the warning being something I would never had thought of as being a major hazard in the Peak District.

I crossed the busy Buxton to Chesterfield road and continued northward along a country lane until I reached my next section of footpath; a steady climb uphill towards Bradwell Moor. At the side of the verge there were a lot of these pretty yellow flowers, I don't know what they're called, but I reckon they wouldn't look out of place in anyone's garden.

Towards the top of this path there's a storage tank, or small covered reservoir, which looks rather sinister.

The final section of the walk was across the southern edge of Bradwell Moor. There are a lot of old mine workings and rakes and this type of terrain seems to encourage the growth of wildflowers. I took photographs of my favourites.

The first one is the early purple orchid, but I don't know what the others are.

I made good time down into Bradwell, where I paused to look in a shop window - I'm not sure what they were selling though.