Category: Trip Ideas
When two walks became one
7th August 2012 There are times when more gets fitted into a day than was expected and one of those came my way on a Saturday in May of this year. When a walk from Waterhouses to Hulme End didn't fill the day, an extension was in order. That took me to Hartington via Beresford Dale, Wolfscote Dale and Biggin Dale and fitted easily within the bounds of the rest of the afternoon. Being able to enjoy a longer walk was a bonus with the sunshine that was there to be enjoyed, whenever clouds didn't get in the way.
Waterhouses to Hulme End
Contrary to where my thinking had been, this essentially became a morning walk last May. It raises questions as to how I overestimated how long it would take me and I now think that tramping level tarmac tracks had something to do with my making good progress. As it happened, I am not so sure that I was expecting a metalled surface underfoot for all the way.
If the shortness of the trot had dawned on me last January, a tardy start after a busy tiring week at work would have had little impact on the day's plans, other than a later start. The non-appearance of a bus from Macclesfield to Buxton dues to icy road conditions would have had no real effect either. Nevertheless, it might have been better not to confront the prospect of icy surfaces so readily. Without actually getting out that day, I have no idea how things looked but it now sounds that rushing could have been unwise then.
One aspect of the walk in May was that no rushing was needed. A certain hunger ensured that I caught the 09:10 bus from Macclesfield. It was destined for Ashbourne and was well busy too, a heartening observation for a rural bus service in these austere times. Then, two folk boarded it when I alighted from it in Waterhouses.
My disembarking point gave me a longer walk through the village than a little extra knowledge would have left to happen. In the sunshine, that was of no concern and I proceeded steadily. That the River Hamps wasn't at all far away meant that I soon reached it and shadowed its course as I left the village. The next objective was the left turn that would get me away from the side of the A523 along which I was going.
The lack of signage when I did reach the turning near Brown End Farm reinforced the quiet vigilance that I had been exercising. This one of the few points in the day when inattention to map reading would have resulted in a spot of navigational floundering. Things would have been more obvious if I had sought out the site of the old railway station and started from there, but my approach worked and that's all that was needed.
The stillness of the countryside by the Hamps struck me and there only were a few passing cyclists and walkers to disturb any sense of isolation. Another reason for the quiet was a geologic quirk that meant the Hamps made no use of its riverbed on the day that I passed the way. Being limestone country, the river disappears underground for much of its course unless the weather turns wet enough for it to emerge above ground. With the news media being full of stories about drought at the time, it was tempting to think that this might be a manifestation of what was causing water companies to issue hosepipe bans and other measures aimed at conserving dwindling stocks. Little did I realise that we were in the midst of the wettest April to July period since weather recording began. Now, we don't hear such things and moans about having too much rain have replaced all the talk of water shortages, though it now seems that the weather has done a very good job of filling up reservoirs. With the U.K.'s dependence on surface water collection for our water supplies, maybe we need to better tolerate wet weather if we are to have any water at all.
The lack of water above ground prompts another question. Could our desire for being beside gently flowing rivers also explain the lack of folk around that part of the Hamps? Thinking about it now, it seems that other factors at play and I was following the route of a former narrow gauge railway that was set to link nowhere to nowhere. One of these backwaters was Waterhouses and it still is a quiet place today and the other was Hulme End and that's not exactly bustling either. Folk might seek more scenic drama when they visit the countryside and I was thinking my pastoral surroundings a little tame as I passed through them. In fact, thoughts of making good a design on walking the Howgill Fells from Sedbergh momentarily were restored and I was wondering if I had been a little timid in my route choice. Since then, I have made good use of the Howgills idea and need to say more about that excursion.
It isn't all farmland beside the Hamps, because the National Trust owns a number of woods along the way. It only took me an hour to get from Waterhouses to reach these and the sides of the valley had steepened by this point, partially putting paid to any yearnings for more visual drama. What also was unmissable was the lack of leaves on many trees that surrounded me. The evening before saw me spend some time around Tatton Park near Knutsford in Cheshire where there are plenty of leaves on trees, so this was a marked contrast. There must be slightly different climates between the two places.
Those National Trust woods had another use too on a track that needed little in the way of navigational intervention. They told me where I was and how I was going; names like Old Soles Wood and Soles Coppice proved to be good locators. Checking the map beside these told me that more might be made of the day than I had dared to expect. Beeston Tor Farm's caravan park came as a surprise to me after all the quietness that I had encountered and the limestone outcrop of Beeston Tor was there to be seen on the approach to where the Hamps meets the Manifold too. This was more like the sort of sight that I had in mind and there were more like it to be seen throughout the rest of my walk.
Unlike the Hamps, the Manifold was in good flow and there were more folk around it too, hence my earlier thoughts about humanity and flowing rivers. A mobile ice cream stall had set up for the day so there needed to be some custom. The caravan park, with a curious collection of older specimens, will have helped their cause along with any day visitors that came the way, though I staved away any sense of temptation. Accessibility helps too, since this was the next public road crossed by the former railway on its journey north since the A523 near Waterhouses. The abundance of hills made for narrow single track roads but we make our ways wherever we will.
Soon enough, I was back on an off-road track again after admiring a road bridge over the River Manifold. Having to share the delights of the surroundings with more folk now was no downer and I continued to make good headway. The level nature of the track played its part and it could be a good option for anyone wanting to get back to walking again after a lay-off. Maybe that's what attracts those who don't get out so often. Those seemed to more numerous after I returned again to a public road after Ladyside Wood. On the approach to that road, someone bid me good morning and asked if it still was that time of day. There were ten minutes to go to noon, so a laugh was shared and enjoyed before we parted.
The next off-road section of the Manifold Way was beyond Ecton Bridge and the old railway tunnel required passage too if I wanted to stick with the route of the Manifold Way. Many signs for the Hamps Way and the Manifold Trail were to be seen along the course of my walk without any depiction on my OS map. Further investigation since then revealed that I needed a new one and it is sitting in front me as I write these words. The trails could have uses for future walks.
In fact, the Manifold Trail could have a use since it avoids the tunnel. As I went through it, others came that way with loud motorcycles and there was such a din that I stopped next to a wall until they had gone. The motorcyclists may have enjoyed the racket, and there are those who do, but it is not a taste that I plan to acquire. Being able to hear the peaceful sounds of the countryside is more my thing and there was plenty of restorative quietness between that tunnel experience and the end of the Manifold Way in Hulme End.
Hulme End to Hartington
After a break at Hulme End, a stretch of road walking conveyed me to Beresford Dale. The day was growing hotter as I plied more tarmac, all the while noting that caravan and camping sites are not scarce in this part of the world. It after passing the last of these for the day that I began my descent into Beresford Dale. As I did so, signs highlighting a public footpath diversion were to be seen and the cause was that the bridge that I was planning to cross had lost its railings at one side. In the event, I chanced going over it in spite of all the safety tape and did so without mishap or tumble. Sometimes, you have to use your own judgement.
Once across the River Dove, crossing a field got me onto National Trust land and into Wolfscote Dale. The sun was in hiding when I entered the dale but it soon emerged to light up the wonder that lines this stretch of the River Dove. For one thing, the whiteness of limestone outcrops contrasted wonderfully with the green vegetation that surrounded them. Adding in a gently flowing river like the Dove was enough to make it all feel like a little piece of heaven that happened to fall to Earth. There was a need to share, but isn’t there always?
At the junction where Wolfscote Dale meets Biggin Dale, I popped uphill a little to find another resting place and ate more of my sandwiches there, a sort of outdoors afternoon tea after a fashion. During that time, the nearby surroundings emptied of folk to leave the place practically to myself. The prospect of continuing south towards Thorpe and Ashbourne really tempted, so alluring did the dale look. However, the use of two route ideas on the same day was enough so that brainwave was left for another time. It's best not to be greedy.
Once down off the slopes again, I turned to enter Biggin Dale and followed the walls while I was admiring the luscious green valley sides in bright sunshine. At the northern end of the dale, navigational choices were needed and I chose to go for Dale End instead of either Biggin or Reynards Lane. Once I had allowed cars and tractors to get by each other on the small road, I left it for the much quieter Highfield Lane to get to Hartington. Being above the dales at this point reminded me how much I felt I was missing while following the Tissington Trail from Pomeroy to Ashbourne in 2010. Appearances are that it's so much easier to make interesting photos when you're in a dale than when you're above it in this part of the world.
The lane was left for a public footpath that took me to the road into Hartington a little further along than the lane would. While dropping into my destination, I spotted a function going on at the YHA hostel, something that surprised me given it was May. Small wonder then that booking a YHA is an acquired art when things like that are done with their properties. A pleasing view towards Hartington's church replaced those thoughts and I turned into the heart of the place to find a bus stop in plenty of time before the next bus to Buxton would appear.
More Ideas
The outing may have used two walking ideas but it yielded many more. Even the homeward bus journey had its part to play in that it showed me what is to be found around Longnor and Crowdicote. There's much more to savour in White Peak country yet so I should not be bereft of excuses for escapades when I fancy straying not far from home.
Travel Arrangements:
Bus services as follows: 108 from Macclesfield to Waterhouses, 442 from Hartington to Buxton, 58 from Buxton to Macclesfield.
Collecting ideas…
2nd August 2012 The weekend before last saw me head to the Howgill Fells for an out and back trot from Sedbergh to The Calf. While the sky clouded over during my walk and there was an unintended deviation towards the end of the return leg, it remained an enjoyable affair, with my having traversed no fewer than five hilltops along the way. The first was Arant Haw with Calders, The Calf, Bram Rigg Top and Winders all following one after another and Calders being crossed twice. Much of it was on access land too, so it didn't matter much if I veered away from rights of way and, in fact, much of my course deliberately took advantage of this.
After getting in at least an outing a month since May, I would like to continue the pattern. Over the last few weeks, I have been dredging a few from previous outings that I made in the last few years. In its own, that visit to the Howgills was born of this strand of thinking, but there are others. A return to Ingleton for a circular hike featuring Twisleton Scars and Ingleborough with some sunshine and blue skies is but one of these others. Revisiting Teesdale is another, and it took the world of Twitter to remind me of that part of England. My sole visit to the dale so far also happened on an overcast day, so getting a day with better lighting and more interesting skies would be good too; that would make photographic endeavour all the more appealing. After all, someone has a very appealing image on their Pinterest site and I wouldn't mind having my own photos of Low Force (and High Force too) in similar conditions as well. The passage of the Pennine Way along there brings to mind the idea of exploring High Cup Nick near Dufton on the western side of the North Pennines. Again, there only has been a single outing in the Eden Valley so far, and I'd like to complement it with another. The weather was good that day, though travel issues curtailed the time that I had available, hence why I'd like to go back again.
There should be enough to be pondering from the above by catching up with a few issues of TGO while on a trip to Ireland added to them. They brought to my attention possible crossings of Lingmoor Fell in the Lake District and Beinn a' Chrùlaiste near Glencoe, both of which made use of roaming rights that we now have. The latter traverse reminds me that having a few Scottish trip ideas would be handy, and I was reminded of my pondering ascents either of Bynack More in the Cairngorms or a tempting Munro near Blair Atholl. Re-walking the West Highland Way between Bridge of Orchy and Kinlochleven was yet another. One new inspiration had caused me to recall older ones.
Maybe, I need to collate the various brainwaves in a permanent if ever-changing list somewhere so that I can inspect them in moments when nothing particularly can be extricated from my imagination, like during the latter half of 2010. Long-standing Welsh ideas like walking Ysgyryd Fawr near Abergavenny or returning to Pembrokeshire (featured in the current issue of Discover Britain, as it happens) would belong on there too. Maybe I need to re-read these prospective pieces more often than I do.
As it has turned out for me, the ideas that I have been using so far this year have treated me well, and all the inconvenient weather that has come our way doesn't seem to have stalled my hill wandering greatly at all. Now, I need to sit down and write about a few of them in place of thinking about possible new excursions, good though that is. The coming weekend looks not too promising for an outdoors excursion, so that may be a chance. That's not to say that other matters may not intrude, though...
Amazing what a little sunshine can do
20th May 2012 Somewhat infuriatingly for me, I am nursing yet another cold as I write these words. Was it the milder winter that made them more prevalent, or are those long working hours finally catching up with me? It might be a bit of both in reality and, since it is overcast where I am this weekend, I am not feeling overly denied by my ailment. The rest may do wonders.
In contrast, last weekend saw me summon enough resolved to get out and about. Friday evening saw me spend some time around Knutsford after work, with Tatton Park and more looking gorgeous in the evening sunshine. Saturday finally saw me undertake a trot from Waterhouses to Hulme End along the length of the Manifold Trail after a few false starts. Much to my surprise, I completed the 8.5 miles in around three hours, so I decided to continue to Hartington by way of Wolfscote Dale and Biggin Dale. The former of these looked so wonderful that walking from Thorpe to Hartington by the course of the River Dove is an alluring prospect that I'd like to turn into reality. Though my legs were tired, Sunday had its trot to too with a local itinerary taking in Tegg's Nose, part of the Gritstone Trail and Hurdsfield. What seems very odd to my mind was that there was none of that weariness there on Saturday evening after I got home from Hartington.
Only for the cold, I'd be letting my mind ponder options for the coming weekend since we are promised warmer temperatures. Maybe the lack of those might explain why I am coughing and spluttering this evening as well. If some delightful weather does arrive, I'd like to be able to go exploring the countryside after what last weekend brought. Well, I haven't been to Scotland, Wales or the Isle of Man since last summer and they can call again. Then, the Diamond Jubilee Bank Holiday weekend starts June for us, and it'd be a pity to leave that underused too. Hopefully, colds and flu will be a distant memory by then. Rest and recuperation should assure that, and opportunities can be well-used when they come.
Emerald Inspirations
21st April 2012 A trip to Ireland in March may have taken the form of an elongated weekend that involved no hill wandering (there was some urban trotting around Limerick that took in its People's Park and Arthur's Quay though) but the warm sunny day on which I needed to leave the place to return to the U.K. left a more lasting impression. There has been perusal of issues of Walking World Ireland too so it might be no surprise to hear that my mind (if not my heart) began to ponder a hill wandering excursion to follow my ascent of the Great Sugarloaf in Wicklow a few years ago and a trot around Howth Head last year.
Though sunshine was hazy and skies milky, thoughts of staying on my bus from Limerick to Shannon Airport all the way to final destination of Galway were very tempting. The ambience was very much of the feeling of summer days when we get the sort of weather of which so many of us dream. On looking down while flying across Ireland en route to Manchester, the extent of the haze was unmissable yet various hilltops protruded from low cloud. In fact, I reckoned that I could see the tops of the Galtee Mountains along the Limerick-Tipperary county boundary and I wouldn't be surprised if we passed over Slieve Bloom too. On the eastern side of Ireland, the sprawl of the Dublin and Wicklow mountains was there to be survey and I fancy that I picked out Poulaphuca reservoir near Blessington in Co. Wicklow too.
After the summery feel of March, April has plunged us into atypically chilly temperatures and typically showery weather; maybe that's why I am weathering a cold as I write these words. That made for a less than glorious Easter weekend that I spent doing some spring cleaning and tidying. If we had got the sort of weather that we enjoyed around Easter 2011 and the following Mayday Bank Holiday weekend, then I might have been tempted to follow up those thoughts of Irish explorations. After all, curiosity had me survey photos of Wicklow's hill country and antiquities on a few royalty-free stock photography websites and much of what I saw left me thinking that I might do better myself; it would make a good excuse to go across the Irish sea to survey the delights of picturesque Glendalough for the first time. For now though, that's on a waiting list.
Weather and workload has meant that I otherwise haven't been doing much wandering around hill country than a short trot up Nab End near Bollington. The hoped for extensive views over Pott Shrigley failed to materialise. That's not to say that I didn't content myself with what I found because I also managed to have the place to myself, something that would be said for the Kerridge ridge on the same day. A cycle that took in both Bollington and Pott Shrigley was what allowed me to sample Nab End's delights so there definitely were no complaints from me even if cloud rolled in to blot out the sun during the afternoon. Rediscovering a little more in the way of motivation not only would get me to that Irish waiting list but would send me out among Macclesfield's hill country more often too.
A hub for numerous hill country wanderings
3rd March 2012 January's walk from the Cat and Fiddle Inn to Buxton caused me to recall other walks that started or ended at the Cat and Fiddle Inn. When I set to pondering the trip report for that hike, the idea of collecting them together as a preamble to the trip report was stymied by there being so many of them over the years and there could (and should) have been more than these.
Thus, that planned preamble has been moved here. Most of those walks that featured the Cat and Fiddle Inn at some point in their route started from there, and I only recall one that finished there. Another thing that strikes me is that many of their number took place before this blog existed, so I reckon that it's no harm recalling them here. As it happens, time has made the memories of some more vague, so it's best to recall them somewhere before recollections fade further. It appears that writing those trip reports helps to reinforce memories, and it helps to be able to return to them later, too.
Buxton to the Cat and Fiddle Inn
The first on this list is what I believe to be the only walk from Buxton that landed me at the Cat and Fiddle Inn. It was a snowy affair and Buxton was snow-covered when I got there. Coming from the south-west of Ireland, as I do, meant that the sight remained a novelty even under slate grey skies as I lingered next to the cenotaph on The Slopes in the heart of the town. My next port of call was Poole Cavern Country Park where I passed through woodland with a white coating on its floor. That there was a snow shower as I went on my added to the magic of the experience.
From there, it was a matter of stitching a few public footpaths together to get me to where I wanted to be to await my bus home. As I continued west, the snow cover grew more tenuous. It was patchy as I passed the HSE Laboratory, but I seem to recall seeing a snowman by the side of the A54 as I passed that way. The A537 was encountered after that, and quiet lanes got me to my stopping point for the day. Looking at the map again, it appears that I may have passed Dane Head as I plied my way, though I seem to remain no images of its appearance that day, though sunshine was not plentiful. The year is one I cannot name either, but why does that matter when the experiences live on regardless?
Following the River Dane to Rushton Spencer
There are some years that don't get forgotten and 2004 was one of them for a few reasons. The summer was a washout though I did manage to pick off the best of the weather for a visit to the Western Highlands in Scotland during August before a wet autumn descended on us. Though I did manage a sunlit visit to Snowdonia in the previous month, my main memory still remains that 2004 wasn't a great year for walking.
The weather-induced autumnal hiatus caused me to leave walking aside until early November, and I was more than ready for a walk at that stage. Thanks to the weather, sodden terrain and soft going was my lot as I hiked from the Cat and Fiddle Inn to Rushton Spencer. Though it left me with very muddy boots, the conditions did nothing to dispel the sense of satisfaction gained from getting outside again. The dirty footwear wasn't an impediment to catching a bus home that day, either, though the current state of the public finances has meant that it no longer runs these days. Hopefully, we may see a bus connection between Macclesfield and Leek again, most likely in better times.
After a soundtrack taking me by Danebower Hollow, the Dane Valley Way was to convey me for the rest of the way. This was where I met all the mud under overcast skies with a foolish footstep leaving me with a leg sunk in mud up to the shin in a gateway, always problematic places due to animal traffic and congregation. Three Shire Heads was behind me at this stage with a return needed for photographic purposes; that had to wait until January 2012, so there'll be more about that in time. Maybe I'll repeat the walk in similarly sunny conditions to refresh my memory and make the most of what's there.
Via Shutlingsloe to Macclesfield
While out on that November 2004 stroll, I spotted another footpath that caught my attention, but a few years were to follow before a hillwalking year was begun with a hike that made use of that route option. Then, I walked from the Cat and Fiddle Inn to my home in Macclesfield and took in a windswept Shutlingsloe before going down from there through Macclesfield Forest to start a more level route for the rest of the way. Then, ground conditions largely were favourable, apart from a section in Macclesfield Forest, and the day stayed dry, though the sun wasn't as free of the cloud cover as might have been hoped. It did nothing to take from the fact that 2009 got its debut as a walking year at the end of that January.
To Buxton via the Goyt Valley
March often sees a whitening of the countryside at its start and one such episode of this caused me to abandon a planned trot around the Derbyshire Dales in 2006 (shortly before I started what you find here) to embark on one that skirted Shining Tor and crossed the Goyt Valley to reach Buxton by following the Midshires Way. It was the white coating that caused the change of plan since not many scenes like that which you see above were my lot until more recent years. The result was that I wasn't going to leave this chance to go on me, and plenty of snow was trodden though there remained patches of ground that lay uncovered too. Long-time followers of these musings should be aware that I have met with more snowy conditions since then.
To Whaley Bridge via Shining Tor and Kettleshulme
As if to pause the pre-Christmas rush in 2007, I took a day off from work and a local hike ensued. It took me from the Cat and Fiddle Inn over Shining Tor and onto Whaley Bridge via Pym Chair and Windgather Rocks. A route was found that avoided much of the B5470 to drop from Kettleshulme into my final destination for the day. The trot had taken me along frozen hillsides in glorious winter sunshine, so I didn't decry the declining light on the final stages of the walk.
To Macclesfield via Shining Tor, Lamaload Reservoir and Rainow
This was a variation of the above route that actually preceded; it might have been the overcast skies on the first time around that resulted in a partial repeat. On that Sunday, I walked from the second-highest inn in England as far as Pym Chair. Though I am making do with disjointed stored mental images, I believe that I made way from there to Thursbitch before turning in a switchback manner for the way to Redmoor and then Lamaload and Rainow. It looks like an indirect yet intriguing course of travel, and the switchback section in embedded in my mind, though I wouldn't have associated walking by Lamaload with this day out. With that surprise in mind, I reckon that re-walking this part would be no bad idea. After all, it feels that a memory bank needs refilling and there are plenty of other options in these parts. They may keep me busy for a while yet.
