Chapel en le Frith

CHAPEL RAIL STATION, RIDGE HALL, COW LOW, CASTLE NAZE, COOMBS EDGE, THE BEEHIVE AT COOMBS, THE ROEBUCK AT CHAPEL-EN-LE-FRITH

Distance: 8-9 miles.

Difficulty: Moderate.

Weather: Misty but mostly dry with occasional sunshine.

Walkers: Mickey Barrett, Peter Beal, Nigel Crank, Lawrie Fairman, Alan Hart, John Laverick, Syd Marland, Julian Ross and George Whaites.

B walkers: Terry Jessop, Tony Job and Geoff Spurrell.

Apologies: Chris Corps, Tom Cunliffe, George Dearsley and Mike Walton (all w*^king), Steve Courtney (Turkish hols),Colin Davison (Spanish hols), Pete Morrall  (preparing for winter in Spain), Jock Rooney (Isle of Man tax exile), Ken Sparrow (domestic chauffeuring duties).

Leader: Fairman. Diarist: Hart.

Starting point: Road outside Chapel-en-le-Frith railway station, Derbyshire.

Starting time: 9.48am. Finishing time: 2.10pm.

A quick look at the list of apologies will show that we have far too many w*^kers among the Wednesday Wanderers these days. Despite this unfortunate trend, we had nine A walkers, including the welcome return of Mickey Barrett from mopping up operations at his family home.

Mickey has been missing for the past two weeks after returning home from a sailing holiday to discover a burst tap had flooded three storeys of his house.

Our message to those who prefer w*^king to walking was summed up by the words on Syd’s tee-shirt – “A rainy day in the hills is better than a sunny day in the office.”

The B walkers were augmented by the debut of Terry Jessop, who has come to Poynton from Ilkley via Derby. His shy, retiring nature should fit in nicely.

Early morning rain had disappeared by the time we started, and the forecasts of a dry day proved largely accurate apart from light drizzle shortly after Pietime. The usual trick of donning waterproofs was enough to drive the rain away and we even had occasional glimpses of weak sunshine peeping through the cloud and mist.

The highlight of the A walk was reaching Castle Naze, a promontory hill fort which commands panoramic views for miles around in every direction: or so it should have done. 

Unfortunately the morning mist refused to clear and our sustained uphill march went unrewarded. Nonetheless we were able to walk in the footsteps of our ancestors and imagine what life would have been like back in The Iron Age.

For Lawrie it was a trip down memory lane, recalling: “It was ‘ard but we was ‘appy.” Frank Dudley, working as an apprentice carpenter at the time, thought iron would never catch on.

We crossed the Manchester-Buxton railway line at Chapel and trooped steadily uphill for nearly a mile, passing Ridge Hall and Ridge Smithy on our left en route. When we reached a T-junction (15mins), Peter urged a right turn but Lawrie insisted the legitimate path was to the left.

After a quarter of a mile, Lawrie reassessed the situation and ordered an about-turn. We retraced our steps back to the T-junction (22mins) and carried on until Peter pointed out a broken fence on our left (24mins) where several hundred pairs of boots had crossed before us for the ascent of Castle Naze.

We reached the summit (34mins), which is also known as Combs Moss. Historians and archaeologists believe it was the site of a fort, spread over a triangular area of 2.5 acres, protected by natural slopes on two sides and two ditches on the third.

Educated guesswork surmises the fort dates from The Iron Age (800BC) until the Roman invasion of Britain in 43 AD. The steep gritstone escarpment 1400 feet above sea level provided  a formidable natural fortification,  enhanced by man-made ditches protecting the entrances on the vulnerable side. Roman coins have been discovered here and there could be links with The Bull Ring henge at Doveholes two kilometres away.

After a pause to remove outer clothing, we went over a wooden stile and followed a path along the ridge with a steep drop to the valley below on or right. Sadly, the spectacular views were shrouded in mist. 

We reached a track by some handy rocks and stopped for Pietime (75mins). As we finished, the first drops of rain were felt, but by the time we had put on our waterproofs, the drizzle had ceased.

Resuming our walk along the ridge, we reached a drystone wall (111mins). Once again Peter suggested a right turn downhill, but Lawrie opted for the left turn uphill keeping the wall on our right. When we reached the corner of two converging drystone walls, Lawrie turned left again and Peter was heard to mutter: “We are now going in the opposite direction from the pub.”

We reached a gate on our right which we went through (119mins) and followed the well-trodden path downhill. We reached a wooden stile (124mins) and turned right along a pebbled lane before turning right again (131mins) at a wooden public footpath sign and entered a field with a drystone wall on our right.

Our group passed a farmhouse on our right and carried on across a broken wall (143mins), through an open gateway and down into a valley. When we reached two more open gateways, side by side, we went through the one on the right (146mins) and crossed a wooden footbridge over a stream (150mins), soon followed by a stone footbridge (151mins).

We then turned right heading uphill through a field. With farm buildings on our right we walked through a gate and reached a lane (155mins). We turned right and descended to the outskirts of Coombs, where we turned left at Hitch Croft Cottage (164mins).

We  reached The Beehive (168mins), where pints of Beehive cask bitter cost £3-10 and were enjoyed in the beer garden at the front of the pub. Some  sunshine had penetrated the clouds to raise the temperature. One of our more extravagant comrades opted for the Marstons’ Pedigree at £3-50.

Resuming, we retraced our footsteps back uphill until we reached a wooden public footpath sign we had passed earlier (171mins). This time we turned left and skirted a farmhouse to its right, crossing a wooden stile and uphill through fields.

We reached two fields containing single horses, which were separated by an electrified fence. After lifting the insulated wire to allow us access, one of the horses came over to inspect us. We gave him strict instructions not, under any circumstances, to take advantage of the situation and cross into the other field. To our pleasant surprise, he obeyed the order and we were able to pass unmolested to a wooden stile on the far side of the field.

Turning right after crossing the stile (181mins), we followed a narrow fenced path. We exited through a gate and turned left over a bridge which went over the Manchester-Buxton railway (184mins). We stopped for lunch prior to the final push towards Chapel Station.

This was achieved by turning right on to a path on the far side of the bridge and walking along it parallel to the rail track. We reached the cars (198mins) and de-booted before driving to The Roebuck in the centre of Chapel for pints of cask beer for passengers and soft drinks for drivers. The Tetley’s mild was in good form at £2-50 a pint.

The B walkers were already ensconced after a walk of slightly more than five miles. They had caught a bus as far as The Soldier Dick at Furness Vale, from where they had walked along the Peak Forest Canal through Bugsworth Basin, and the Peak Forest Tramway to Whitehough, Chinley. At this point they decided it would be rude not to call at The Old Hall for pints of Marston’s bitter. They had then continued on foot to Chapel-en-le-Frith.

Next week’s A walk  of about nine miles will start at 9.30am from the car park of The Bull’s Head on London Road North, Poynton, led by John and Syd. They have promised to get us to The Davenport Arms in Woodford by around 12.30pm, and return us to The Bull’s Head at about 2.20pm.

“W*^k,” which rhymes somewhat ironically with “shirk,” is an unacceptable word in the Wednesday Wanderers’ vocabulary 

Youlgreave

YOULGREAVE, ALPORT and environs

Weather: Initially overcast, later sunny

Distance: 9 Miles.

Difficulty: Easy

Walkers: Colin Davison, Alan Hart, George Dearsley, George Whaites, Jock Rooney and Tips, Chris Corps and Fergus, Tom Cunliffe, Pete Beal, Lawrie Fairman, Julian Ross, Syd Marland, Nigel Crank, Steve Courtney, Mike Brockbank, John Laverick.

Apologies: Mickey Barrett (still mopping up his house), Phil Welsh (visiting his father)

Walkers: Geoff Spurrel, Mike Walton, Tony Job

Apologies: Pete Morrall (prep. for Spain), Ken Sparrow (family duties).

Leader: Corps  Diarist: Dearsley

Starting Point: The George, Youlgreave

Starting Time: 10.15am. Finishing Time: 2.18pm.

This report contains hyperlinks, which allow you to view web pages describing some of the locations if you are already connected to the internet.

Things did not bode well when Tom Cunliffe’s car would not start at the Lantern Pike and then your diarist hit unusually heavy traffic at Buxton, only to discover that many of the Wanderers were actually behind him.

In the event we gathered more or less on time in Youlgreave around 10am.

First things first…what is this bloody village actually called?

Is it Youlgreave, Youlegreave or Youlgrave.

Either the locals cannot agree or Derbyshire County Council’s signwriter is dyslexic.

 

The name possibly derives from "yellow grove" (the ore mined locally being yellow in colour). Anyhow, no fewer than 15 Wanderers (is this a record? Ed) and two dogs gathered for what turned out to be an excellent walk, efficiently crafted and led by Mr Corps in very pleasant weather.

The last time your diarist walked in and around Youlgreave with the Wednesday Wanderers was May 11, 2011. The history of the area follows a similar pattern to that of the many White Peak villages whose prosperity was founded at the height of the lead-mining industry in the 18th & 19th centuries.  This has left its mark in the surrounding fields, which are dotted with the mounds and scars of old workings.

With lead underground, if not in their “pencils”, the Wanderers set off from the George, turning right from the frontage of the pub, past the imposing church on the left.

This is the church of All Saints, possibly one of the most impressive churches in Derbyshire. It probably dates back to about the 13th or 14th century, but many modifications have been made and much restoration was carried out around 1870. Externally the impression is dominated by the broad, big and tall perpendicular tower, with its angle buttresses, large western door, large west window, two tall bell openings, battlements and eight pinnacles, and tall and wide arch towards the nave.

We went along what turned out to be (reasonably enough) Church Street until we reached the odd looking monument to the right which apparently was the village’s own water supply in years gone by.

We swung right here and past a sumptuous looking house on our left, (pictured below) the name of which was not obvious.

                                                                        Lovely house

We went through a gate and up a short climb, then through the gaps in two walls, before turning right.

Within a few yards we swung left, following a sign pointing to “Over Haddon”.

                             
                                                         The green, green grass of....well Derbyshire


After a while, we then traversed a very muddy path to a huge farm which turned out to be Meadow Place Grange.

The farmhouse is actually a listed building and dates back to the mid 18^th century. I’m sure, like me, the Wanderers were agog at its chamfered quoins.

Meadow Place Grange

The house also boasts a central flush doorcase with raised fillet to edge and bracketed

stone ovolo-moulded hood. You don’t get those in Ikea.

We were soon heading through woodland and going downhill on a pleasant track.

We crossed a bridge and turned right, passing Lathkill Lodge on the left.

At 11am we were walking alongside a picturesque river.

Meandering gently....and so was the river

The river Lathkill rises just below Monyash and flows down to meet the Wye just below Haddon Hall. The valley it forms is apparently one of the finest of the limestone dales and the upper part is a National Nature Reserve, in the care of English Nature.

It is a famous trout-fishing river, and Izaak Walton, no less, declared it to be the 'purest and most transparent stream' he had seen. There are many water-based birds to be seen - wagtails, dippers, waterhens and coots for instance.

I’m sure I heard a passer-by say “look at all those old coots”. But I could have been mistaken.

We crossed a road and Pie Time was declared at 11.07am.

Despite exhortations from Mr Cunliffe, showing all the tact and empathy of a traffic warden with chronic piles, to move us along, the Wanderers enjoyed nine minutes of mastication before heading up the hill (effectively a left turn from the path we had walked).

At 11.20pm we took a path on the right which was signposted Alport.

Haddon Hall was visible in the distance.

At 11.40am we took another path to the right (following the yellow arrow), through a five-bar gate and onto a track. To our left was a giant quarry (pictured somewhere below). To our right was a high wire fence, protecting a field.

Giant quarry

Some Wanderers thought this was a deer fence. Mr Laverick surmised that they might have been cultivating truffles in the field. Obviously another champagne Socialist.

It was around this point that Mr Cunliffe retold an interesting story, offered to him some years ago by the wife of a policeman, herself a former WPC. Apparently, she confided, the police used to communicate with one another by banging their truncheons on the pavement. A kind of primitive Morse Code.

Mr Ross, himself a former member of Her Majesty’s Constabulary of course, had not heard of this ingenious tactic and was greatly amused.

But it could account for a lot. Perhaps, if only the Great Train Robbers had stuck to the grass they might never have been caught. In a bid to corroborate Mr Cunliffe’s tale I trawled the internet. But the only reference I could find to law enforcement officers hitting the pavement with truncheons was the few blows that missed Rodney King in Los Angeles.

We went through some woods and then off to the right on a path that led down a short but steepish slope. Over a stile we saw a road below us and alongside the road, a river.

We eventually walked down to the road and turned right.

We soon came across a sign saying “Alport” and turned left shortly afterwards.

We went over a bridge, which offered a lovely view (pictured below) and some Wanderers stopped to capture the quintessential rustic English scene as a giant (empty) hay waggon thundered past.

We went through a static caravan park, following a path to “Stanton”.

We met a road and turned left, turning left soon afterwards up a track to Park Hill Hall. This turned out to be Mr Corps’ only error. Three faults in an otherwise unblemished round.

A quick check of a flappy thing revealed an incorrect manoeuvre and we quickly moved back to the road where Mr Rooney’s unerring memory for the location of pubs soon put us back on track.

                                                                        Rustic views

At the bottom of the road we turned right and then left at a sign saying “Stanton in Peak”.

Having negotiated a steepish hill we reached the Flying Childers at 12.42pm. Mr John “Statto” Laverick volunteered that we had walked 6.63 miles. We had started at 540 feet above sea level and climbed 1083 feet in all.

Our highest point had been 965 feet.

Flying Childers

The other Wanderers had figures of a different kind on their minds….2.80 for Pale Gale Ale (from the Storm Brewing Company) and 2.80 for Bristol 400.

Talking of beer, ex Wanderer Mr Ivor Jones is inviting all Wanderers to celebrate his 80^th birthday with him next Tuesday at the Boar’s Head, Higher Poynton.

But back to Stanton. Flying Childers was a famous undefeated 18th century Thoroughbred racehorse, foaled in 1714 at Carr House, Warmsworth, Doncaster, and is often cited as the first truly great racehorse in the history of Thoroughbreds.

Has anything better ever come out of Doncaster?

Flying Childers gained the name of his breeder, Colonel Leonard Childers, in addition to his owner, the Duke of Devonshire, often being referred to as either Devonshire Childers or Flying Childers or sometimes simply Childers.

Although the Duke received many offers for the colt, including one to pay for the horse's weight in gold, he remained the animal's owner throughout his life.

First racing at age six, the 15.2 hand colt won his maiden race, held April 1721 at Newmarket, to defeat Speedwell.

He then won his second race in October, also at Newmarket, in a walk over, and his third race. It is said he completed this race, over the Round Course at Newmarket, in 6 minutes, 40 seconds and that he moved 82 1/2 feet per second or 1 mile per minute. Almost as fast as Mr Hart when he nears the half way pub.

 By comparison, this would be nearly 40 seconds faster than the unbeaten Frankel ran the Newmarket Rowley Mile in his famous 2,000 Guineas victory of 2011.

We set off again at 1.25pm, back down the road we had dutifully climbed around an hour before. At the bottom we crossed the road and took a path directly opposite.

At 1.44pm we had lunch until 1.53pm.

We reached a road, turned left and went through a five bar gate.

We took a path to the right and this brought us to a small bridge and the short climb that brings you back into Youlgreave.

At 2.18pm we were back at the cars and de-booting before enjoying more ale in the George, where John Smith’s was £3.02 and Bakewell £3.30.

The George

Mr Corps was rewarded for his excellent leadership with a round of applause, a rare accolade.

B Walkers report

Walkers: Geoff Spurrel, Mike Walton, Tony Job

Apologies: Pete Morrall (prep. for Spain), Ken Sparrow (family duties).

Journeys, walk and beer:

We took the 9.54am  199 bus from The Rising Sun to Buxton via Peak Dale, arriving just in time for the 11.00am  65 (Sheffield) rather dirty bus to Tideswell via Peak Dale, Wormhill, Millers Dale and Litton. 

We got off at Litton at about 11.25am and walked towards Cressbrook along a very quiet road. The short cut to Litton Mill was adjudged too steep, but the road down from Cressbrook Hall to the Mill proved nearly as demanding of arthritic knees and backs. 

We paused for lunch on a wall by the mill, then set off in deepish mud and light drizzle round Water-cum-Jolly, and then on drier tracks as we approached Litton Mill (famed for the sever life led by the apprentices). Faced with alternative walks to Tideswell (uphill. and not noted for its pubs), and Millers Dale (gentle climb to The Angler's Rest), we settled for the latter, arriving well enough ahead of the 2.25 ish 65 bus to sample pints of Adnams Southwold bitter (£3.00). 

We saw more of the return journey through cleaner bus windows, and alighted at The Eagle for excellent Hydes Anniversary beer at £2.00, and Carling at £2.25. The 15.30 bus got us back to Hazel Grove by 16.30.

Distance computed: 5.1 miles. Height gained: positive, to our surprise.

Food report: Geoff ate at the Soldier Dick last Monday, and was well pleased with quality.

Next week’s walk will start at Chapel en le Frith railway station. The “livener” will be at the Wanted Inn, Sparrowpit and after the walk Wanderers will drive to the car park at the back of the Roebuck in Chapel. Sadly you diarist will be wo^rk*ng.

Bollington

BOLLINGTON, RAINOW

Distance: 8.5 miles.

Difficulty: Easy

Weather: Cloudy with some rain

Walkers: Colin Davison, Alan Hart, Phil Welsh, George Dearsley, Nigel Crank, Chris Corps, Julian Ross, Steve Courtney, Peter Beal, John Laverick, Lawrie Fairman, Tom Cunliffe

Apologies: George Whaites (returning from his Spanish holidays), Mickey Barrett (mopping a flooded house), Jock Rooney (w*r^ing in the Black Sea)

B walkers: Tony Job, Peter Morrall, Geoff Spurrell and Mike Walton

Leader: Fairman (with usurping by Davison)  Diarist: Dearsley

Starting point: Public car park opposite the Spinners in Bollington.

Starting time: 9.30am. Finishing time: 1.23pm

After last week’s carnage, this was a more sedate walk.  A “white handbag” walk as Mr Cunliffe eloquently described it.

We welcomed a new debutant, Steve Courtney, a friend of Mr Ross, and we hope he joins us on a regular basis.

Mr Fairman was back from his trip lecturing on a cruise ship. He had meticulously prepared a detailed talk, supported by Powerpoint slides, of a series of stopovers in the Mediterranean.

Unfortunately, he was allocated a voyage to Norway.

The walk was also notable for a sign outside a house which read “never mind the dog beware of the wife”.

We set off from the car park opposite the Spinners in Bollington at 9.30am, turned left, making the obligatory stop at F Smith’s wonderful pie shop.

Suitably stocked with piping hot sustenance, we continued along the main road and then took a right turn, passing the Viceroy Indian restaurant on our left.

At a Y junction we took the road to the left, with a signpost showing “to Pott Shrigley”. This turned out to be Spuley lane.

We turned right at the newly refurbished house with its immaculately erected dry stone wall and after about 150 yards we swung left. Our route took us over a little bridge and then we began a steep climb, passing not one but two duck ponds on our right.

At the second pond we went through a gate on the right and crossed a well-defined path which cut our own route at 90 degrees.

White Nancy was to our right but shrouded in cloud or mist.

           Mr Fairman and Mr Beal indulge in that rather foreign practice, pre-walk preparation

                                                    The interior of F Smith’s marvellous pie shop in Bollington.

At 10.05 am we reached the top of the hill and an unusual “hot Pie Time” was declared.

Mr Welsh had scoffed his F Smith’s pie on the move so could not enjoy the luxury afforded to some of the other Wanderers as they bit into the delicious crust and tasted the succulent gravy, meat and potato.

The unbridled pleasure - as is often the way of it -  was limited to just three minutes and we were on the move again.

We walked down to a metalled road, over a cattle grid and straight on, over a stile.

Negotiating a 5-bar gate we turned right onto another metalled road and past Brink Farm Cottage. (10.29am).

At a T-junction we crossed the road and went straight on, heading up a hill.

We swung right and then left following a sign which said “permissive footpath” but there were no hippies, free love, Country Joe and the Fish or any sign of the spirit of Max Yasgur.

On offer was a steep climb for five minutes and then a turn to the right at the top of the hill, reached at 10.45am. Mr Welsh celebrated by opening a huge golfing umbrella.

To be fair, a fine rain had begun to fall, rather ahead of the weathermen’s schedule.

We must not make light of the landowner who has generously made this new route available, despite it not being a public right of way.

The East Cheshire Ramblers seem to have played an integral part in getting the new Permissive Footpath opened. But there is little information on its history.

In better weather it would have afforded spectacular views – we were told – of Birmingham and the Welsh hills.

In the event it afforded what appeared to be views of a giant slate grey tarpaulin. As my photograph shows.

                                 The breathtaking views afforded by the new “permissive path” we negotiated

But were we downhearted?   Well, yes.

We went over one stile and then a second on the left.

At 11.03am “official” Pie Time was declared.

With Mr Cunliffe keeping the sort of eye on his watch more akin to Sir Alex Ferguson, we were off again at 11.10am.

At 11.20am a certain amount of confusion ensued as we took a diagonal path across a field full of cattle and sheep, which seemed to have more sense of their location than many Wanderers.

                                                                        Real Pie Time

The rain grew heavier and Mr Welsh’s umbrella more enviable.

We went over two more stiles, found a track and turned right onto a road. Just past Harcourt Barn we turned right again.

This was Ewrin Lane, which led onto Smith Lane.

We crossed the B5470, entered a field and climbed a wall on the left after 75 yards.

We went through a gate and turned left past Lower House and took a path to the left.

At 12.04pm this brought us to the Robin Hood pub.

All the ale was £3.05 a pint, that was a beer called Endless which ran out, as did the Cumberland.

Black Raven was still available.

We left the pub at 12.55pm, turning left down Stocks Lane and heading to the Virgin’s Path.

At 1.03pm it started to rain again.

Lunch was taken at 1.19pm opposite Waulkmill Farm, looking at the picturesque waterfall on the River Dean. We have been here many times before.

The River Dean flows from Rainow and over this waterfall before passing through Bollington.

                                                                               Luncheon, with a view of the waterfall

                                                                The aforementioned waterfall

We set off at 1.26pm heading to the deserted Ingersley Vale Mill.

Before we got there some Wanderers decided to break away and return to Bollington via White Nancy.

The original Ingersley Vale Mill building was seriously damaged by fire in November 1999. The remains and the preservation of this listed structure are presently a major concern and ideas are proposed in the recent (2002) Kerridge Ridge & Ingersley Vale Heritage & Countryside Project (KRIV).

The mill is located across the narrowest part of the steep sided vale, being only about 150 feet across.

A huge wheel house adjoins the mill . A very narrow lane, clinging to the hillside, passes the mill and provides access to properties further up the vale.

A large number of very poorly constructed 1960s industrial buildings adjoin the mill on both sides up and down the vale.

There is also the remains of older out buildings - behind the mill one looks as though it might have been the Apprentice House that is known to have been built on the site.

A part of the building on the extreme right of the picture is the warehouse built in the 19^th century on the location of much earlier mill workers cottages and the mill manager's house, all now gone.

You can learn more of the mill’s history here.

http://www.happy-valley.org.uk/history/mill-ingersley.htm

We reached the cars at 1.23pm, debooted and headed for the Dog and Partridge.

There we met up with the B Walkers who had started out from Bollington and followed our initial route to the newly renovated house.

They then headed to Little Harrop Farm and from there to the shell of what was once the Highwayman pub.

From there they walked to Blaze Hill and then to the Poachers, before heading to the Robin Hood. It was a distance of around five miles with climbs totalling 650 feet.

Next week’s walk will start at 10 am from the public car park near the allotments at Youlgreave.

We hope to stop at the Flying Childers Inn in Stanton in the Peak.

http://www.flyingchilders.com/section426232.html

The finishing point will be the George in Youlgreave.

Little Hayfield

THE LANTERN PIKE, LITTLE HAYFIELD, HAYFIELD VILLAGE, KINDER SCOUT, KINDER DOWNFALL, RED BROOK, WHITE BROW, HAYFIELD VILLAGE

Distance: 10 miles.

Difficulty: Difficult

Weather: Sunny

Walkers: Colin Davison, Alan Hart, Phil Welsh, George Dearsley, Nigel Crank, Chris Corps and Fergus, Julian Ross, John Jones, John Laverick

Apologies: Lawrie Fairman (lecturing on a cruise ship), George Whaites (Spanish holidays), Peter Beal (hiking), Mickey Barrett (sailing in Turkey), Tom Cunliffe (in Rhosneigr, allegedly), Jock Rooney (Isle of Man)

B walkers: Tony Job, Peter Morrall, Ken Sparrow, Geoff Spurrell and Mike Walton

Leader: Hart. Diarist: Dearsley

Starting point: Outside the Lantern Pike

Starting time: 9.38am. Finishing time: 2.45pm – 3.15pm

Walks designed by Tom Cunliffe are always challenging and this week’s was no exception. In fact it was so tough that Tom decided to absent himself, meeting the gathering Wanderers with a flimsy excuse about going to Rhosneigr. There were many who believed he was upstairs peeping from a window when the Wanderers returned.

In sunny weather, with temperatures touching 24 degrees Celsius (over 75 in old money), the group set off from the Pike, turning right down Slack Lane and taking the relatively newly built path on the left towards Little Hayfield.

Our goal was Kinder Scout, at 2,087 feet the highest point in the Peak District and also the highest point in Derbyshire and indeed the East Midlands.

Some wondered whether little Fergus’s tiny legs would take him there. But in the event the dog performed a good deal better than some of the humans, your diarist included.

Clearly, 10 weeks on a Turkish beach is not ideal preparation for your first wander back.

On reaching the bus turnaround, we crossed the main Chinley to Glossop road at the pedestrian crossing, entering Hayfield via the side of the Skillet restaurant and turned left towards the Pack Horse pub.

Just before the Pack Horse, we turned right and soon found ourselves outside the greengrocers made famous in the BBC TV series The Village, set before, during and after World War One.

My library photo below doesn’t make it clear but the TV producers kept the name – Hankins – unusual because there is no apostrophe.

Hankins in The Village

                                                                        Hankins today

Hankins today sported some hanging animals, a pheasant, a chicken and a rabbit.

There was more televisual memorabilia not 250 yards further on, the Blue Plaque that commemorates the career of actor Arthur Lowe. Who can forget that line: “Don’t tell him Pike!” when a German officer asks for the name of a member of Dad’s Army who recites a silly poem about Hitler?

                                                                     Arthur’s Blue Plaque

Another point of interest is the tiny former grammar school on the right, which probably couldn’t hold half of today’s average class size.

Just past the school we took a track on the left which led us on a steepish climb to the shooting cabin. The Wanderers have been here many times before. This time we turned right and began to circumvent Kinder Reservoir below.

For between 15 and 20 minutes we descended a tricky slope with a mixture of loose stones and awkwardly projecting stones.

Pie Time was declared at 10.52am at the bridge over a stream, adjacent to a sign which read “William Clough”.

At 11.02am we set off again and began probably the most taxing climb your diarist has ever undertaken with the Wanderers. (The second and third most taxing were also on Tom Cunliffe walks by the way). At 11.40am the track briefly levelled out. But it quickly returned to terrain more suited to a mountain goat than someone with a bus pass.

Looking back down the steep climb from near the top of Kinder

The climb afforded some truly spectacular views, which I enjoyed despite gasping like a drowning man and thinking murderous thoughts of Mr Cunliffe.

By the way, as I understand it, when Benny Rothman and chums executed the mass trespass in April 1932 they had the good sense to use the gentler William Clough route to the summit of Kinder.

I hope the Wanderers will excuse the lack of detail in my chronicle at this point but my leg muscles were resembling a wet towel being wrung dry by a 17 stone washerwoman.

Sportingly, some of the Wanderers hung back and waited for the stragglers, including me, Mr Crank (suffering a key problem) and Mr Laverick.

When we finally reached the summit and I initiated a team photograph, Mr Davison managed to scramble into shot and blot out Mr Laverick, who can now not prove to his grandchildren that he conquered the highest peak in the East Midlands. Shame.

                                  

                                        Colin Davison helpfully blots out John Laverick in our team photo

 We now embarked on a horse shoe trek around to the right, with Kinder Reservoir in the distance.

We negotiated some huge rocks and soon found ourselves at Kinder Downfall.

                                

                                                                          Kinder Downfall

Some Wanderers may well have seen Kinder Downfall in winter, when it produces stalactites of ice.

It also creates a sensation when water flows upwards as this short You Tube film shows.

We passed Red Brook and began our descent. There were two or three comforting stops before we came to the copse of trees and a path that eventually took us to a metalled road. 

We reached the road (with the sign White Brow behind us) at 1.45pm. We, being the remainder of the Wanderers left behind by our turbo-charged leader Mr Hart and the equally energetic Mr Welsh.

We (the true rearguard) made it to the Sportsman at 2.10pm. Mr Hart and Mr Welsh (who arrived at 1.32pm) had already slaked their thirsts and soon were on their feet again to proceed to the Pike, which they entered at 2.45pm.

Your diarist, alas, wimped out and arranged to be collected by his wife from the Sportsman. John Jones, who lives nearby, went home.

The remaining Wanderers ultimately returned to the Pike at 3.15pm where they  were delighted to find our old friend Frank Dudley, and his driver John Eckersley, sitting alongside the B walkers - Tony Job, Peter Morrall, Ken Sparrow, Geoff Spurrell and Mike Walton.

                                                                          Frank Dudley

The B walkers crossed the canal to Gowhole, passed the large electricity sub-station, and turned  left on a track for Brownhill Farm. After elevenses, we followed Overhill Rd to Moor Lodge, turned right for the TV mast, and descended via Meadows Farm to the Kinder Lodge for excellent Timothy Taylors at £2.80. Only 4.5 miles, but a lot more hilly than usual, so we got the Glossop bus to the Lantern Pike. Both this bus and the one back to Newtown were 15 - 20 minutes late.

They arrived around 2pm and had demolished several bowls of chips with buttered balm cakes before the arrival of the vanguard of the A team in the form of Alan Hart and Phil Welsh.

 While pints of excellent Timothy Taylor Landlord cask bitter at £3-30 were quaffed, two more bowls of chips and buttered balm cakes arrived from Stella with the instruction to "eat them while they're hot."

Needless to say the advance party, with the help of Frank, obliged and had just finished when the remnants of the A team, Colin, John, Nigel, and Julian staggered inside.

Next week's walk will start at 9.30am from the free car park opposite The Spinners Arms at Bollington. Led by Lawrie, we shall walk along the newly-opened ridge towards Charles Head before a livener at The Robin Hood at Rainow around 12.30pm prior to finishing at The Dog and Partridge, Bollington, around 2.20pm.