Derwent Edge

Christine and I went out into Derbyshire yesterday.  Getting there was easy enough, the main roads are pretty clear now.  The problem is finding somewhere to park.  We gave up the idea of walking over Stanage and left the car near Cutthroat Bridge on the A57 to walk up onto Derwent Edge.  Not much to say really: lots of snow, blue skies, warmer lower down, nithering on the tops.  We hadn't gone far before we were passed by a runner and his dog, who Christine knew from years gone by (the runner, not the dog).  Just after that a couple of mountain bikers passed us.  It had taken them a long time to catch us up.  It's a lot slower when you have to push the bike.  Anyway, they eventually managed to pedal a a couple of hundred meters and then we overtook them again.  They rolled up at Whinstone Lee Tor and proceeded to throw themselves over a snow bank.  We enjoyed the spectacle.



We bimbled along through the snow as far as the Hurkling Stones and then hung a left at the Moscar-Derwent path, of which there was no evidence save for a solitary set of foot prints in the deep snow, which petered out after a few hundred meters.  I expect the body will be found in the spring.



Looking towards Mam Tor and Kinder Scout

The scene was positively alpine and I wished I'd had some skis.  We met a couple of skiers later in the day and actually it looked more trouble than it was worth.  On the other hand, we both agreed that snow shoes would have been useful.

There were stunning views across to Mam Tor and Kinder Scout and down to Derwent Reservoir

Just below the gate on the track down to High House Farm is a stone bus shelter.  Well it looks like a bus shelter but the service is rubbish and so the National Trust converted it to a place to eat yer butties on a rainy day.  I'd been sat on the seat for, well quite a long time, before I noticed the arms (must have been snow blindness)

How cool is that? 

The shelter also offers the visitor an absolute treat in the form of small ceramics, designed by kids from a local school, set into the stone.  Here's a few but you need to go and see them for yourself really.

The track leads steeply down to a gate onto the road and an idyll...

Isn't that just the stuff of Christmas cards?

Reflections above and the bridge over Ladybower Reservoir below



6 miles and 1300' ascent.  Not far and not fast but just a splendid day's walking. 

(We went to a burlesque show in the evening but that's another story and this is a walking blog after all)

Derwent Edge and Strines

As preparations for Cape Wrath Trail in July (more of which later) I packed up the rucksack, drove to Cutthroat Bridge on the A57 and took it for a walk over Derwent Edge as far as Back Tor.

Ladybower Reservoir from Whinstone Lee Tor

The Wheel Stones, Derwent Edge

Then down the bridleway to the Strines road.  The car park at the road end of this track has been gated shut for over a year now because of logging.  Coming down the track I saw for the first time the extent of forest that had been cleared. 

Hollingdale Plantation (cleared) from the Strines track

Bluebell woods below Strines Reservoir

Across and up the road a bit is a track which winds its way down to a point between Strines and Dale Dike reservoirs.  The latter was the cause of the Great Sheffield Flood of 1864 when the newly built dam burst.

The track climbs steeply (well for Derbyshire) up to a tower, now used as an empty tower, which is visible from the A57 when you come back into Sheffield from the Peak District.  It's one of those places that you see for years and never go to.  Funnily enough I'd seen it for almost 30 years and never visited it.

Whilst googling for the name for this tower I learnt of a mass murder in a house in the area, where the husband killed his wife and children and the nanny, and then ran off to France finally to be captured on top of the Notre Dame in Paris (by Quasimodo) or it may have been Rouen Cathedral (by Quasi's little known cousin).  Anyway, the tower is called Boot's Folly and was built in 1927 by Charles Boot.  Apparently there was a bit of stone left over from building a nearby house.  I guess this was in the days before Lego.

After the tower, there was some pleasant strolling through upland pasture with gambolling lambs and peewits getting a bit narky because I was a few hundred yards from its nest.  And then it was back down the A57 to the car, the tedium of which was broken by a short conversation with a Curlew who walk beside me, well about 50 yds away, which went something along the lines of

peewit peewit...currrrrlew
curl curl curl curl curleeeeeew
peewit peewit peewit curleeeeeew
peeeeewit

You'll note it contained a bit of Lapwing and roughly translates as

curlew: hello
me: it's quite warm today
curlew: yes but looks like heavy rain later on
me: oh right. see ya


which was surprisingly accurate. They know a thing or two about the weather do these curlew.

9.5 miles and 1800 ft of upness.