Odds & Sods 2024

Another saga, I'm afraid. Nowt else to do as it is pouring with rain. So make a cuppa, pull up a comfy seat and read on about obscured views, lazy Skylarks and dead camels: plus further memories for Mike B.

When we go on long walks, especially to remote locations, I now always carry a compass, full first aid kit, bright orange bothy and survival blankets. OS map naturally, don't trust mobiles. Sometimes I feel a bit of an idiot, toting this stuff around, especially on hot, sunny days like our Derwent walk. However, even on that day, there was a keen, cold north easter, which would make an immobile, injured person hypothermic quite quickly.

Onward with our saga...

Joyous our hearts were as we quaffed mead and dashed cups to the Gods ere our perilous quest to Mam tor and the wastelands of Lose Hill.

We sallied forth on the morrow and stood before the very gates of hell, the cavernous dragon maw of Cave Dale; and did we all quake to our very boots.

Is it not said that a mighty monster, the companion of beelzebub himself, dwelt within that dreaded domain?

‘No.’ Spake Jack Larkins, ‘It is nowt but a valley, carved by melt water when an ice dam burst.’

‘Stay your tongue, yeah daft ***,’ sayeth Doobag. ‘Did you learn nought in lessons? When Odin did make fight with the Ice Giants, did he not swing his mighty axe Hullgar and cut the Ice king in half, from top to bottom. And was his swing of such venom did it not strike the ground and cut it asunder and swallow a dragon whole.'

Clutching axe, broadsword, morning star, teddy bear and comfort blankets, our intrepid band of brothers crept through the dragon’s bazoo and came to behold wonders upon wonders.

Cave Dale looked like a miniature version of Cheddar gorge, only you can appreciate it in one go as it was on a more human scale.

Not much in the way of wildlife. Though this beastie decided to out stare me.

Turning to face the castle. Note that the distant hills are clearly visible.

I just like the way this tree grew out of the cliff face.

It didn't take us long to get to the moorland and strike off to Mam tor. But first, a few words from our local soothsayer...

Onward we brave few marched to moorland most bleak, whence came forth the words of our soothsayer: ‘I have cast the runes of destiny, consulted the entrails of the golden chicken (and a nice Coq au vin it was too), and consorted with the gods. Beware travelers for thou shall meet doom and peril as your way is obscured, and only those true of heart shall vanquish all. As for the rest of you, we’ll have a pint at the Dog and Duck.’

Right, enough Nordic sagas. We could see, as we climbed up Cave dale, that distant hills had their tops briefly hidden by cloud. Cresting the peak we could also see a) not very much really and b) that we were walking into cloud.

Very soon we were enveloped in the stuff. Basically white out conditions. Occasionally we couldn't see more than 50m is any direction. Bring back memories, Mike?

Mam tor is in front of us, somewhere.

The section of path we were on was quite isolated. We only saw one other person is over an hour. The wind was moderate to fresh and very cold. Very uneven ground conditions. And no mobile signal. Hypothermia would set in very quickly if one of us were injured.

As always, I checked the weather forecast in the morning, then largely ignored it. The Beeb and Met never get it right. Instead, I check Netweather's rainfall radar and sat24's cloud radar images to have a better stab at figuring the weather for the day. Thus, I reckoned we should have 'long' lunch, as I felt the cloud would clear.

But first, some shelter. This outcrop some 40m to our right would do.

As we sat, munching on sandwiches, this was the view in front of us for most of the time.

After 30 minutes of munching, the cloud passed to reveal this.

Similarly to our right.

Cor blimey. That's what we've been walking towards all this time.

We talked to people coming down the ridge. All they saw was the white stuff.

Anyway, as we set off to Mam tor, some birds actually made an appearance. Though I gnashed my teeth in frustration. A Skylark so close, yet lousy light conditions. Silhouette ahoy.

Sadly, not much more was seen, apart from Jackdaws and loads of Skylarks.. Plenty of bird song, but nothing visual.

Walking up to Mam tor was fairly easy, and there were glorious views.

My old lady's garb gives you an idea of the changeability of our British weather. T-shirts the day before. Winter togs today.

Here's Cave dale from Mam tor ridge.

Due to a terrible mix up reading the walk instructions, we missed Hollins cross (our descent point) and ended up at Back Tor. Though in all honesty we would have ignored the instructions and ploughed on along to the distant tor.

Funnily enough, we lost a lot of walkers after Hollins cross. Most chose to descend at that junction. Suits us.

Finally we fetched up at Lose Hill, and encountered some wildlife: yeah for me.  It had warmed up a tad, enabling the Memsaab to remove her scarf and gloves!!!!

Problem is, we didn't really know where we were or where Hollins cross was. We consulted map and instructions, and soon realised we were at Lose Hill. I supposed the convenient 'you are here' sign was a bit of a give away.

We weren't about to trudge back along the ridge, instead headed down hill along a path, and turned right along another and with dead reckoning headed back along the base of the ridge.

It was here we encountered the lazy Skylark. It sat on a cairn, trilling away. It also allowed me to creep very close to it. Initial long range shot, just in case it flew off.

Closer I crept.

And closer still.

Until finally I was practically next to it.

I was well chuffed. R7 and medium lens did their bit on a very overcast day. We walked back to Back tor, and picked up what turned out to be Hollins cross bridlepath to Casteton.

As we approached Castleton I spotted a dead camel. A Bactrian no less.

Thanks Angus for the nice story and lucky you getting that skylark in such an open spot. 

Verily thou dost spoil us with such tales of valour, and depictions of splendid grandeur

Looks like a 'Grand Day Out', Angus. I love the photos of the Skylark, and the dead camel ... . I have been in Buxton a bit recently at my sister's. When you were up Mam Tor, I could have waved to you from Soloman's Temple ... .  It is just behind my sister's house ...

Angus M said:

Thanks Mike.  It was a really nice walk. Some sections busy with people (the Polish contingent not withstanding) and quiet in others. Fairly easy walking.

You're welcome, and thank you for sharing the other photos.

I've walked there many times and in most weather conditions, from the very cold (subzero with a biting windchill), horizontal rain with driving winds and glorious sun.

Love it, the dead camel.....

For me, the Great Ridge was a good testing area for new boots, a good mix of terrain, hard paths, grass tracks, mud, a short rocky ascent (Back Tor) while not being far from the car park.

There used to be a cairn at the point where Hollins Cross is in memory of Thomas Hyett, similar to the one on Lose Hill.

Click the following links to see Flickr images of:

• Hollins Cross Cairn  
• Hollins Cross Thomas Hyett Plaque
• Kinder and Pym Chair
  • Pym Chair is the solo rock to the right of the main rocky outcrop, the Woolpacks are just visible further to the right
• Pym Chair

Hollins Cross used to be ancient coffin route across the ridge, and still a popular path between the Hope and Edale Valleys.

From the summit of Mam Tor you can clearly see Kinder and some of the weathered gritstone formations.

As you're aware, the Great British weather can change at the drop of a hat. My last walk was a full on proper winter walk, and just after lunchtime, the cloud started to roll across the Kinder Plateau, and I finished the walk, safely, in a white out with lots of snow to add to the mono colours, of white!

The money spent on navigation training more than paid off, a vital signpost at the top of Jacob's Ladder had been removed, so knowledge of the area along with map and compass skills paid off, and I got back to the car. Definitely a winter walk to bow out on.

That must have been my Auntie's camel ... badly parked again ... she lives in Castleton and uses it to get to the village shops!

I have to say it. The camel's got the hump by your auntie's bad parking.

The detour to Lose hill added a couple of miles on to a 6 mile walk. We weren't in the mood to do either a long or strenuous walk today, so chose a round trip excursion around Hathersage.

In case anyone is wondering, we're actually selecting walks from the Pathfinder guide book 16, Peak district walks, compiled by Brian Conduit, 2001; a friend lent it to us. This book appears out of print; though I found many of the walks via a google search, updated and modified for mobiles, but also with pdf downloads. Using a book is contrary to our normal approach, which is to examine an OS map (25000 series for preference) and pick a neat looking circular walk.

Today's walk starts and ends in Hathersage, and is allegedly 7 miles long. Hah! Not after the detour we took. So much for a short easy walk. Read on, though this walk will be split across a couple of posts. It is a super walk, full of differing landscapes, and is not the usual slog up for three to four hours (seeing the same scenery) then slog down for three to four hours.

I took my medium lens, partly as I wasn't expecting much wildlife, partly as the weather forecast was for heavy cloud, and partly as I was knacked. I noticed on Netweather's rainfall radar that a huge band of rain tracked westward then stalled just east of Sheffield. This boded well, and contrary to weather reports, we had sunny intervals!

Nothing much was seen to begin with, but we did spook a Buzzard while traipsing through Gunge wood. Cresting onto a ridge, we did see said Buzzard being mobbed by some crows. Then I spotted this.

I don't know about you, but I found it a bit unusual to see a Pied Wagtail on telegraph wires. They're normally bobbing on the ground, especially in supermarkets.

Moving on along the ridge, I crept up to a Chaffinch blasting out some decibels in a tree. Only if flew off when I got close. Sigh. It was going to be one of those days. But then I spotted summat flitting about in the tree's branches.

Oh dear. What is it? Do we have a Meadow Pipet or do we have a Tree Pipet. Answers on a postcard.

Whatever it is, it looked very nice posing with Hawthorn blossom, and was close enough for my medium lens to do a passable job. It decided I was too close for comfort, and flew off.

Hathersage

As we approached our halfway point, we came across these two. No problem photographing them.

Talk about throwing ones self into a sleep. They didn't even acknowledge our presence.

Kind of looks like our cat when she crashes out.  Nice to see an old breed of pig.

Shortly after this photo session, partook of lunch against a dry stone wall, in a large field over looking Hathersage and the Derwent river. There were a couple of pheasants in the field, who noted us but ignored us.

We recommenced our walk, and I had a crack at getting close to one of the birds. I think it was a bit confused as to what I was. You see, as I approached it, I squinted through my camera's view finder, with camera and hands obscuring my face. Therefore, I may not have registered as a human. On the other hand, it might have been a bit thick. Any how, I got really close to it.

It put on a fine display for me.

After this photo, I carefully spun round, face still obscured by camera and hands, and made my way back to my missus. No point in spooking the bird into flying off.

We continued down the hill to the Derwent river and the stepping stones, where a tale doom and woe awaited us...