Castleton

CASTLETON, CAVE DALE, MAM TOR, BACK TOR, LOSE HILL, THE CHESHIRE CHEESE AT HOPE, PEAKSHOLE WATER, THE CHESHIRE CHEESE AT CASTLETON

Distance: Nine miles.

Difficulty: Moderately strenuous.

Weather: Dry and sunny with blue skies.

Walkers: Peter Beal, Colin Davison, Alan Hart, John Laverick, Sid Marland, Jock Rooney with Tips, and George Whaites.

Apologies: Mickey Barrett (sore Achilles),Chris Corps, Nigel Crank, Tom Cunliffe and George Dearsley (all w*^king), Lawrie Fairman (midwifery duties), Julian Ross (domestic duties).

Leaders: Davison and Rooney. Diarist Hart.

Starting point: Road outside George Hotel, Castleton, Derbyshire.

Starting time: 9.52am. Finishing time: 2.40pm.

A bracing walk which afforded some of the finest views in the Peak District, unseasonably fine weather and two traditional pubs offering warm welcomes and excellent cask beer – what more could any man want ?

This was one of our most enjoyable outings of the season and it was only a pity that there are so many w*^kers in our midst. I suppose somebody has to pay for our pensions, but it is a shame there were not more to take advantage of the lovely weather and clear visibility.

Among the absentees was Chris, who put w*^king ahead of walking. He had offered to lead us, but Jock and Colin volunteered to deputise in an area with which they are familiar. Surprisingly the group they were leading arrived at the halfway pub from a different direction and ten minutes behind the three of us who were deemed to have gone the wrong way.

With the sound of Sergio Leone’s cinematic masterpiece ringing metaphorically in our ears, The Magnificent Seven sallied forth turning left at the end of Castle Street and passing the war memorial on our left as we turned right uphill. * (see footnote)

We turned right again before Dale Cottage (2mins) and entered Cave Dale.

This was the start of a steady climb until we reached the end of a drystone wall and turned right steeply uphill (24mins). After a rest while we awaited stragglers (28mins), we continued with a drystone wall on our right and walked through an open gate. We crossed a stone step stile on our left (29mins) and followed a wooden public footpath sign.

We crossed another stone step stile (36mins) and kept a drystone wall on our left before crossing yet another stone step stile and entered a field (41mins) veering right at a sinkhole to cross a fourth stone step stile (42mins).

This took us into a field where we saw a “riggwelted” sheep. This is not a breed, but a Yorkshire expression for a sheep lying upside down, helpless,  with all four legs in the air (In Wales the word is “braced”).

We are indebted to Peter B for this fascinating information, which he gleaned during a tour of the Black Sheep brewery where one of the beers is called Riggwelter.

 It has an ABV of 5.9% and is described thus:

 “This strong, velvety, ruby brown beer is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. It is deceptively clean drinking with a wonderfully complex palate of coffee, bananas and liquorice which reward you with a long refreshing Goldings hop finish.”

The brewers recommend it should be drunk with red meat, strong cheese or decadent desserts such as dark chocolate torte. They do not warn, however, that it might make you fart and will almost certainly get you pissed.

We crossed a ladder stile (49mins), turned right along a gravel track and disturbed a murmuration of starlings, or sturnus vulgaris as the Latin scholars amongst us often call them. There must have been several thousand in the flock, but this pales to insignificance compared to the million-strong murmurations which form in Jutland prior to their annual summer holiday in the south.

Ornithologists believe they form these dense flocks as a defence against attacks by falcons or sparrowhawks.

In a nearby field a comely lass was toiling with what looked like mole traps. When I informed her that one of her sheep had been riggwelted she threatened to have us all arrested. Apparently the expression has not travelled as far as Derbyshire.

We continued until we crossed a road (60mins) and followed a wooden public footpath sign. We proceeded until we reached a dip in the land where we could shelter from a chilly blast of wind which had started to assail us (66mins).

Resuming, we reached a gate (68mins) and crossed another road to start our ascent of Mam Tor. This is also known as Mother Hill or Shivering Mountain. Its shale content has caused many landslips and in 1979 the A625 Sheffield to Chapel road was finally closed because of its instability.

We reached the summit (81mins) where John got out his tackle out and measured it at 1,831 feet whereas Colin declared a more modest 1,676 feet on his equipment. The official height is 1,696 feet.

To our north was Highland Farm and its barn which was filmed as the farmhouse home of John and Grace Middleton in the TV series The Village, which was screened earlier this year.

We began our descent to the east along The Great Ridge aiming for Lose Hill in the middle distance. We reached a wooden stile (119mins) where there was a discussion as to whether we should go left over the stile and turn right to climb Back Tor and Lose Hill. The alternative was to ignore the stile and skirt them to our right.

Colin said he would be prepared to head for the summits but wanted company. He should have known that when you walk on with Hope in your heart, you’ll never walk alone. In the event he found four other volunteers, while John and Jock took the Big Jessie skirt option.

After reaching the top of Lose Hill (137mins) we started the descent towards Hope, reaching a wooden stile (143mins) where we rejoined John, Jock and a mightily relieved Tips, who was wondering what had happened to his “flock.”

We crossed the stile, turned left and began a steady descent. The path was clearly marked, with Peter B, George W and your diarist finding themselves in the lead. 

On reaching a farm, we saw a sign for Edale Road on our left (163mins) which our new leader Peter advised us to follow. This brought us to a road (170mins), where we turned right and reached The Cheshire Cheese at Hope on our right (172mins).

Here we found excellent pints of Doombar cask bitter and a landlady called Laura, who was familiar with our missing colleague Tom. She said Tom had visited her hostelry and been most helpful with advice about how to deal with Enterprise Inns. If she had been referring to anyone else, we might have believed she fancied him.

Ten minutes later our four colleagues arrived, with Colin informing us we had gone in the wrong direction !

We turned right to leave the pub, with George W inexplicably setting off with Colin’s rucksack on his back, leaving his own in the bar. Colin picked up George’s rucksack, and followed sniggering. We turned right at the main road (179mins) and then left at The Woodroffe Arms.

A public footpath sign on our right directed us towards Castleton (184mins) which took us along the left bank of the delightfully-named Peakshole Water. When we paused for lunch (187mins), George looked at his rucksack with astonishment as if somebody had performed a conjuring trick. 

Presuming that the best form of defence was attack, he declared: “Someone’s picked up my bag by mistake”, and was mightily relieved to be reunited with his own new rucksack.

Continuing, we crossed the Hope Valley railway line (193mins), walked through a field to reach a road, where we turned left (210mins) into Castleton, soon reaching The Cheshire Cheese. The Barnsley Gold cask bitter was deemed to be in good form at £3-30 a pint.

There follows a number of photographs by Mr Davison.

B Walkers report

Walkers: Tony, Wally, Geoff        Apologies: Terry (cultural visit to Tutbury,  Ken.

Route: Brabyns (Marple Bridge), Peak Forest canal, Romiley, Chadkirk, Otterspool, Marple, Brabyns.

10.15 start, as Geoff had a triage appointment at 8 am in Denton, at which an orthopaedic consultant confirmed that his hip was buggered, and needs replacement . Join the club Geoff!  This will create logistic problems as Yvonne is due to get her hip done in Wrightington shortly, so he has to juggle NHS delays, hospital appointments and a booked river cruise.

We reached Chadkirk herb garden at 11.40 for late elevenses, and arrived at the Hare and Hounds just after noon. Thwaites Original ran out after one pint for Wally, so we settled for Old Git at 32p a pint more than the Original (about £2.60). We continued as far as Marple Hall remains (Hall demolished 1959) for a lunch stop, then up past Marple C.C. and allotments, and eventually down to the canal and Brabyns.

The Norfolk Arms was busier than the last time we called, and we settled for a bitter at £3.00 a pint. They had a tempting sounding Ginger Bitter, but the barman said it tasted of many things, but ginger was not one of them, and gave me a taste to confirm it.

Total distance 6 miles, too much of it in Marple housing estates. We need to make more use of buses if we are to repeat the pleasant walk as far as Otterspool.

Incidentally, Tony's bus pass, lost between Madagascar and Fernilee last week, was found by a lovely lady in Whaley Bridge, and is back in his possession.

Next week:  Alderley Edge, especially if Ken will lead us.

Next week’s A walk will start at 9.40am from the car park of The Little Mill, Rowarth. We shall be heading via Cown Edge to The Grouse at Chunal for around 12.45pm before returning to The Little Mill for refreshment about 2.30pm.

* While Sergio Leone did fine work with Clint Eastwood's spaghetti westerns and Once Upon a Time in the West, he didn't direct The Magnificent Seven. That was John Sturges (A Pedant)