Charlesworth

CHARLESWORTH, HIGH BANK, COOMBS EDGE, COWN EDGE WAY, ROBIN HOOD’S PICKING RODS, SANDY LANE FARM, SYLVANDALE FARM, WARHURST FOLD FARM, RIVER ETHEROW, BROADBOTTOM, MOTTRAM IN LONGDENDALE, MUDD, GORSEY BROW, TRANS-PENNINE TRAIL AND GREY MARE INN AT CHARLESWORTH

Distance: 11 miles.

Difficulty: Moderate.

Weather: Always dry and sunny after a cloudy start.

Walkers: Mickey Barratt, Peter Beal, Colin Davison and Alan Hart.

Apologies: George Dearsley (prolonged Turkish hols), Tom Mud* (curry aftershock), Jock Rooney (domestic duties), Julian Ross (visiting relatives in Northumberland), George Whaites (dentist).

Leader:  Davison. Diarist: Hart.

Starting point: Outside the George and Dragon in Charlesworth.

Starting time: 9.50am. Finishing time: 2.26pm.

Not for the first time, Tom suggested this walk, nominated the pubs and offered to lead us, only to fail to turn up. This time the excuse given was spectacular after-effects following a visit to a New Mills curry house on Tuesday night.

We will spare our more sensitive readers the full details of his symptoms, conveyed by Peter B. on Tom’s behalf, but lack of research about the opening times of the chosen pubs led to his name being changed from Cunliffe*.

On arriving at the Harewood Arms in Broadbottom after a steep climb with powerful thirsts, we entered the pub to be told that they would not be opening until 4pm. Detours brought us more heartache as we discovered some nearby pubs had completely closed (The Cheshire Cheese at Broadbottom and The Pack Horse at Mottram), while others did not open at lunchtimes.

We then found that the George and Dragon at Charlesworth, which Tom had recommended as our final rendezvous, did not open till 3pm. Happily we were able to slake our now raging thirsts at The Grey Mare Inn opposite.

It seems surprising that a habit is developing for pubs to be closed on weekday lunchtimes, but to open their doors at 3pm or 4pm instead. Who, one wonders, are the likely customers on late afternoons ? Surely publicans can expect more custom if they open between noon and 2pm, close and then reopen at 5pm when some lucky workers have finished for the day.

Suffice to say this is a trend which is not helping the forward planning department of the Wednesday Wanderers.

From outside the George and Dragon we crossed the road and headed uphill, passing Charlesworth School on our right and immediately afterwards turning right along cobblestones. This brought us out at an impressive house called High Bank where we turned right at a green public footpath sign. For 20 yards we were heading downhill before we turned left along the edge of a field (5mins).

We crossed a wooden stile and turned left along a lane for 20 yards before heading right over a wooden stile marked with a yellow arrow (8mins). This was the start of a steady climb on a horseshoe-shaped ridge with the valley below getting gradually deeper.

Eventually the ridge evened out and we walked along Coombs Edge with a view back down to Charlesworth and a view for miles to the west. As we descended with the ridge we turned left (50mins) instead of plunging further downhill on the path ahead. This route becomes Cown Edge Way.

We reached Robin Hood’s Picking Rods – two stone pillars with a narrow gap between them – where we paused for pies and port (64mins). There are several theories regarding the history of these carved slabs of rock, which may once have been a single column.

It could have been a Druid Stone, but most historians believe it was carved in the 9^th Century by Anglo Saxons. Their subsequent use is also the subject of conjecture – an ancient route marker, a forest boundary marker put there by the Normans or as a county boundary marker separating Derbyshire from Greater Manchester.

Its name derives from the legend that Robin Hood rescued a damsel in distress by accepting a challenge to fire an arrow at the columns from a great distance, causing an indentation which is still there. The tale goes on that Robin then used the columns for bending and stringing the longbows of his merry men.

Resuming our descent we reached a road (72mins) which we crossed and followed a green public footpath sign. As we followed the path a large group of hikers approached from the opposite direction and introduced themselves as The Thursday Club, from Wilmslow.

Your diarist pointed out that they appeared to be a day ahead of schedule. However they explained that they met in a pub on Thursdays to plan their walks for the following Saturday and Wednesday. Perhaps we are missing a trick here...

After crossing a wooden stile we went straight ahead along a lane (82mins), passing Smithy Lane on our left (89mins) and turning right at a wooden public footpath sign (91mins). Colin, who stepped into the breach left by our absent leader, is to be commended for choosing a route where not only ripe blackberries were in abundance but there was also a supply of windfall apples to sustain us.

 After passing a house we turned left along a gravel track (95mins) and then right before a garage. The path took us through a wood which we left by a wooden stile to enter a field (99mins). Keeping a drystone wall on our right we proceeded, going over a wooden stile and now keeping the wall on our left.

Two more wooden stiles were crossed as we walked downhill through fields (110mins). A third wooden stile brought us to the side of cottages. Where the paths crossed we turned left (118mins) passing Sandy Lane Farm on our right.

After crossing a road we went through an unmarked 8-barred metal gate (121mins) and headed downhill towards some overhead power cables, exiting the field by a similar gate (127mins). A steep descent then led us to a wooden stile and a footbridge, followed by steep stone steps on the other side.

We turned left at the top and passed a house on our left which was being refurbished. We went through a wood which was covered in Himalayan balsam, the foreign invader which has formed ghettoes around Britain’s riverbanks. We crossed a wooden footbridge, went through a small wooden gate and then a large wooden gate (137mins).

Our quartet passed a cottage on our left and then turned right past a duckpond on our right until the gravel tracks formed a T-junction (144mins). We turned left, passing Sylvandale Farm and Warhurst Fold Farms on our left. By following a wooden public footpath sign straight ahead, we crossed the River Etherow by a footbridge and turned left (149mins) before swinging right up Well Row.

This led us to the main road in Broadbottom where we turned left to reach the Harewood Arms (161mins). To our disappointment, we were informed it did not open until 4pm. An eight-minute journey down the main road led to further horror when we discovered that The Cheshire Cheese had closed and was no longer a pub (169mins).

At this point Peter B raised our flagging spirits with his story that the village had been forced to scrap its annual carnival queen contest. There had been a lack of entrants for the title “Miss Broadbottom.”

We now found ourselves going uphill for the second time, passing the Harewood Arms and the railway station on our left, passing the sign for Mottram and arriving at a pub called The Waggon on our right (191mins). Despite promises to the contrary by locals in Broadbottom, it was closed.

Desperation was now setting in and Tom’s name was mentioned on several occasions: never in a favourable light. We continued for another mile further into Mottram in Longdendale where we found The White Hart (201mins) was also closed and the nearby Pack Horse shut down with scaffolding surrounding it.

Although we were told another pub a mile further along would be open, it would have taken us further from Charlesworth and our final watering hole. We stopped for lunch by the village stocks, which some suggested would be a suitable fate for Tom.

                                      

                                     Some suggested Tom Cunliffe should be puts in the stocks

Instead of retracing our footsteps along the main road, we went back for 30 yards then turned left up Church Brow (203mins). Soon we were in a hamlet called Mudd which we passed through on the way back to the viaduct in Broadbottom at Gorsey  Brow near the site of the extinct Cheshire Cheese (226mins).

We turned left at the main road, crossing the Etherow and heading uphill back to Charlesworth. At the George and Dragon we turned left and crossed the road to enter The Grey Mare Inn with a chorus of Halleluyah (252mins).

To be frank we would have drunk anything at any price by that stage. The Copper Dragon cask bitter was £3 a pint, but Mickey found it almost undrinkable and switched to Hobgoblin, describing it as marginally better.

The Grey Mare Inn has been licensed since 1841 and was used during the 19^th Century to hold inquests at a time when juries would view the bodies. Another pub in the village at that time might have been more suitable – it was called The Cradle and Coffin.

Charlesworth’s main claim to fame is that in 1990, while visiting the Peak District, Princess Diana waved at crowds of well-wishers as she passed through it.

The route for next week’s walk has been selected by Lawrie, who is celebrating his last birthday before becoming an octogenarian. It will start at 9.30am from the free Torkington Park car park opposite The Rising Sun pub at Hazel Grove and finish around 2.30pm at The Wilfred Wood VC (Wetherspoons) on the A6. Lawrie assures me we will be informed of the halfway pub in due course when he thinks we need to know.

Happy wandering.

Ribblehead

RIBBLEHEAD TRAIN STATION, VIADUCT AND BLEA MOOR TUNNEL

Distance: 5 miles.

Difficulty: Easy.

Weather: Mixture of blue skies and cloud; mainly dry with some light drizzle.

Walkers: Mickey Barrett, Chris Corps, Tom Cunliffe, Colin Davison, Lawrie Fairman, Alan Hart and George Whaites.

Leader: Appointed guide Mike. Diarist: Hart.

Starting point: Platform of Ribblehead railway station, North Yorks.

Starting time: 10.35am. Finishing time: 1.55pm.

There was no chance of getting lost on this walk ! After the unintentional perambulations of the previous week, we had an experienced guide this time to lead us not only round the sights but back in time to the 1860s when the Settle to Carlisle railway line was built.

Tom had persuaded us to take this trip down memory lane to the site of Britain’s iconic railway viaduct and the golden age of steam.

Colin, released from the complexities of an ordnance survey map, showed he could handle a road map as he sped along the motorways, A-roads and country lanes of Cheshire, Lancashire and North Yorkshire at a pace which made Lewis Hamilton look positively sluggish.

It was well worth the extended journey to see some of our country’s loveliest scenery and to admire the amazing achievements of our Victorian forefathers.

Our knowledgeable local guide brought to life the sights and the atmosphere of those bygone days when in just six years a team of engineers conquered the contours of this landscape to build a rail link on budget and on time.

We learned about the shanty town where 3,000 people lived in the harshest conditions, and where smallpox and numerous diseases posed more threat to human life than the gale-force winds which blasted men working 200 feet above ground.

He showed us where the stone was collected, where the bricks were made and where the horse-drawn trams carried materials and supplies for the workforce.

We also enjoyed the sight of a steam train – the Lancashire Fusilier Black 5 MT – chugging across the magnificent viaduct where 100 men lost their lives during its construction.

After our lunch break we took a look at Blea Moor Tunnel, which is one and a half miles long and 500 below ground at its deepest level. It was here that the tunnelers used dynamite for the first time as they burrowed through the hillside.

Back at The Station Inn in Ribblehead we enjoyed pints of locally-brewed Stallion cask bitter at £3-25 before the long journey home.

Our thanks to Tom for suggesting this break from tradition and to Colin for his chauffeuring skills.

The following excellent pictures are courtesy of Mickey Barrett

And this picture by Tom Cunliffe

For the record and better late than never. Geoff and myself parked near Gawsworth church, walked past the main gate to the Hall, turned left and after 100 yards or so climbed a stile on the left. Geoff’s new hip was a revelation. Crossed a large field and then entered lane directly opposite and proceeded forward for a mile or so then left over a stile, across a large field into woods. Shortly after a left turn took us past what was described as a nature reserve – more like a moonscape. Amazingly we met a chap wearing a deerstalker hat and equipped with powerful bins looking across the wasteland. On enquiring if he had seen anything, he replied in the negative. It turned out that his real interest lay in dragonflies and damselflies, none of which were about and who could blame them. Just then a damsel came by with a lovely puppy, one of whom was happy to receive lots of strokes and tickles. Unfortunately it was the dog. After crossing over the railway line via a bridge, we turned right along the canal for a midway pint at the Fool’s Nook. Disaster! Pub closed and for sale on building. Another business opportunity. Turned right along a road opposite the Pub and headed back to Gawsworth. After a mile or so, left across several fields and back to the car. The Harrington Arms was doing business, possibly supplementing regulars with frustrated nookers. When MANU supporters with centre-right leanings are in conversation with Geoff, the topics of football (for the last few years at least) and Maggie Thatcher are best avoided. Geoff managed to raise the subject of the opening Premiership games and offered sympathy. You could cut the Schadenfreude with a Messer. If that wasn’t enough, we learnt from the Gawsworth Hall brochure in the pub that Michael Portillo had given a talk at the Hall entitled “All stations to Westminster”. Isn’t ironic said Geoff that Portillo’s dad rescued Michael from one fascist only for him to finish up working for another. Poor Maggie RIP. The Unicorn beer was in good fettle and reasonably priced at £2.90. Distance as Sparrow staggers (suffering from balance) about 4.5 miles. Apologies were received from Tony (Poynton Show duties) and Wally(w---king). Next week Geoff(hols ) and myself (domestic duties) are missing, over to Tony and Wally.

Next week’s walk will start from the George and Dragon Hotel in Charlesworth at 9.50am, stopping for a bracer in The Harewood Arms, Broadbottom, around 12.20pm, returning to The George and Dragon about 2.20pm.

Whitehough

WHITEHOUGH, CHINLEY, WHITEKNOWLE FARM, REDGATE HOUSE FARM, SOUTH HEAD, PENNINE BRIDLEWAY, SHIRE OAKS FARM, ROYCHE FARM, WATERSIDE COTTAGE, THOMAS BECKET PARISH CHURCH AT CHAPEL-EN-LE-FRITH, THE ROEBUCK AT CHAPEL, HALL HILL FARM AND THE OLD HALL AT WHITEHOUGH

Distance: 10 miles.

Difficulty: Moderate with strenuous, nay dangerous, ascent of South Head.

Weather: Mainly cloudy with outbreaks of sunshine and showers.

Walkers: Steve Courtney, Colin Davison, Alan Hart and George Whaites.

B walkers: Tony Job, Geoff Spurrell and Mike Walton.

Apologies: Mickey Barrett (sailing off Turkey), Peter Beal (narrow-boating), Tom Cunliffe (pub duties), George Dearsley (Turkish hols and lecturing), Jock Rooney (domestic chores) and Ken Sparrow (domestic chauffeuring).

Leader: Davison. Diarist: Hart.

Starting point: Car park of Old Hall Inn at Whitehough, Chinley.

Starting time: 9.36am. Finishing time: 2.46pm.

Even by his own abysmal standards, our leader excelled himself on this walk. We felt rather like a lost tribe of Israel as Colin wandered off piste with what has become his familiar rallying cry – “Trust me. I think I know where we are.”

In the past we have forgiven him his trespasses but this time we were in sight of our half way watering hole when he diverted us away from civilisation and back onto muddy moorland. Watching him studying his map was rather like observing a chimpanzee trying to work out the plot of a novel by Kafka.

At one stage he led us into jungle so deep that I expected to meet members of that legendary pygmy tribe known as The Fukawes.  Need I go on ?

Indeed I must. As we ascended South Head, our leader managed to direct us up the steepest route, terrified lest a slip would send us tumbling hundreds of feet downwards.

It is something of a miracle that our only faller was Steve, who, on a level piece of track, went down as if he had been picked off by a sniper. The way he executed his commando roll on hitting the ground made one wonder whether he spent some of his time in the Royal Navy with the Special Boat Squadron.

Weather forecasts had prepared us for the possibility of squally showers, but we managed to avoid the worst of them by the tried and trusted trick of your diarist putting on his waterproof trousers. This device proved successful on both occasions when rain began to fall. On other occasions the storm clouds changed direction when they caught sight of the magic pants.

From the car park of The Old Hall Inn we walked along a pebbled path with the pub on our right, reaching a road where we turned left downhill. This led us over a road bridge into Chinley where, in the town centre, we admired a magnificent floral display.

We continued straight ahead until the main road swung right past The Turnpike Chapel on the left and St Mary’s Church on our right. Soon after we turned left into Alders Lane (13mins) at a wooden public footpath sign. We turned right at The Alders following a green public footpath sign towards White Knowl (23mins).

We went through a gate and turned right into a field. Another gate brought us into the yard of Whiteknowle Farm (24mins). We turned left along a lane for 20 yards before heading right at a wooden public footpath sign. This brought us to a house with the unlikely name of East Meats (34mins).

Just before the house we turned right, down a flight of stone steps and entered a field. At the end of the field we turned left through an open gate and right through a metal gate leading to a road (44mins). At this point our leader consulted with a dog walker before instructing us to turn left uphill.

We carried on past a cul-de-sac sign, passing a Shetland pony and her foal in a field. This was to be the first of three encounters with Shetland ponies during the course of our walk. This brings us to today’s nature note.

Shetland ponies have been bred in the Shetland Isles of northern Scotland since the Bronze Age. They have a minimum height of 71cms to a maximum of 107cms at their withers. They have heavy coats, short legs and are considered to be the brightest beasts in the equine world.

They can pull twice their own weight where an ordinary horse can manage only half its own weight. For this reason, and their diminutive build, thousands of Shetland ponies were brought to mainland Britain and bred here during the Industrial Revolution to work as pit ponies down the coalmines.

Some spent so much time underground that they had an adverse reaction to daylight and went blind. Their normal longevity of more than 30 years was significantly reduced by conditions in the mines. Nowadays they are used to give riding confidence to small children and for use as packhorses.

We passed Redgate House on our left (a lovely home with magnificent views and for sale at £499,950) and just beyond it a wooden public footpath sign by the gate to Redgate House Farm Cottage (57mins).

An obstructed wooden stile took us through a field of goats which we exited by a metal gate. In front of us was South Head, which we proceeded to climb. At some stage our leader managed to find the most precipitous route to the summit (90mins).

After giving thankful prayers for our deliverance we paused at the top for pies and port. We then headed down from the cairn which marked the summit, taking a gentler descent to reach a sawn-off telegraph pole where we turned right (93mins). We left South Head by a metal gate (97mins) and picked up a sign for the Pennine Bridleway heading towards Perryfoot.

Leaving the bridleway by turning right through a metal gate (110mins), we went to the left of Shire Oaks farm (115mins) and headed downhill with a drystone wall on our right. This path goes left to a bridge across the Manchester-Sheffield railway line (119mins) which we crossed.

By following yellow arrows we swung first left and then right along a path which went through two five-barred wooden gates. We turned left down a lane (126mins), passing Royche Farm on our right. Although the sight of Chapel and its welcoming pub were clearly in view on our right, we were led instead to follow yellow arrows which pointed first left and then right (128mins).

After several minutes wandering through various fields, Colin confirmed our belief that we were lost. It was now official. He led us over a barbed wire fence where your diarist had to help George W. get his leg over with the sort of tactility not normally exhibited by heterosexuals. Eventually we emerged by good grace at a wooden stile by the side of a cottage (150mins).

Here we turned left and immediately right and entered a field to the right of a garage. We turned left to enter a field and then headed diagonally right to cross a wooden stile (155mins), passing Waterside Cottage on our left before reaching the ruins of some ancient buildings on our right (165mins).

Immediately after passing these buildings we turned right and entered head-high vegetation normally found in Borneo rather than Derbyshire. Amazingly this brought us to the main road into Chapel, where we once again ignored the obvious route, crossed the road and re-entered the jungle.

This manoeuvre brought us out in Burnside Avenue, which we exited and crossed the road (168mins) and followed the sign for Town Centre. Passing the overgrown cemetery on our right, we entered Market Place and reached The Roebuck on our right (175mins).

Our B team colleagues were already settled here and the Black Sheep cask bitter at £2-95 was described as being in fine fettle. Your diarist can also vouch for the Tetley’s mild at £2-50.

After bidding a fond farewell to the B team, we left the pub and turned left to head back towards the Thomas Becket Parish Church of Chapel-en-le-Frith. Just before the church we turned left along a public footpath (176mins).

This took us past our second field of Shetland ponies before another heavy shower fell. Once again your diarist’s magic pants protected us as we found shelter in a railway tunnel where we paused for lunch (184mins) as the rain blew away.

Resuming we proceeded through the tunnel and turned right up a bank (185mins) and some stone steps to reach a wooden stile which led us into a field. We crossed a stone step stile (190mins) and went through a series of gates and stiles directly ahead of us to reach a lane (198mins) where we swung first right and then left downhill.

At a slip road we went left and through a wooden gate at the side of a cottage which in turn led us to a gate into a field (206mins). We were now walking uphill away from our destination of Chinley on our right below. Once again our leader sought our trust, which had somewhat evaporated.

Muttering revoltingly, we went through a metal gate (212mins), crossed a road and followed a wooden public footpath sign by Hall Hill Farm (216mins). Here we found our third Shetland pony which enjoyed the core of your diarist’s apple. After crossing another wooden stile we turned right downhill (218mins), went through a gate and turned left along a lane before turning right at a wooden public footpath sign (226mins).

This brought us to a road where we swung right and then left (227mins) to cross a road bridge over the A6 (230mins) and reach The Old Hall (232mins). As ever the Marstons’ cask bitter was in excellent form at £2-80 a pint.

Next week’s A walk will be a break from tradition, starting from the Ribbleshead railway station near Settle at 10am. Tom and George W. will be arriving there by train, while Colin will be collecting your diarist from his home at 68, London Road North, Poynton, Cheshire, SK12 1BY, at 8.30am. The possibility of pick-ups from Bramhall can be made by arrangement with Colin on 01663-810002 or 07889-998528.

Happy wandering !

Furness Vale

FURNESS VALE, DIPPING STONES, LYME PARK, MONKHOUSE MEMORIAL, BOWSTONES, LYME HALL, LYME CAGE, THE DANDY COCK AT DISLEY, PEAK FOREST CANAL, FURNESS VALE MARINA AND THE SOLDIER DICK AT FURNESS VALE

Distance: Nine miles.

Difficulty: Moderate.

Weather: Light drizzle, cloud and sunshine.

Walkers: Tom Cunliffe, Colin Davison, Lawrie Fairman, Alan Hart and George Whaites.

B walkers: Tony Job, John Laverick and Geoff Spurrell.

Apologies: Mickey Barrett (Turkish yachting hols), Peter Beal (narrow-boating), George Dearsley (prolonged Turkish hols), Ken Sparrow (golden wedding anniversary cruise).

Leader: Hart. Diarist: Hart.

Starting point: Car park of The Soldier Dick pub at Furness Vale.

Starting time: 9.33am. Finishing time: 2.13pm.

It is less than three months since we walked the best part of this route, but the two pubs with a phallic connection proved so popular we were happy to make a speedy return. On this occasion we missed out visits to the Dipping Stones and the Murder Stone, having seen them so recently.

The time thus saved did not, however, persuade anyone other than your leader and diarist to scale the heights of Bowstones. This was a missed opportunity, having climbed so far, because despite the constant threat of rain, visibility was excellent and a spectacular panoramic view was available.

But we must never forget the Golden Rules of the Wednesday Wanderers. Rule 1: There are no rules. Rule 2: See Rule 1.

So the four who eschewed the views from Bowstones arrived five minutes earlier for a livener at the Dandy Cock. In a dilemma between vistas and ale, I fear the demon drink wins every time.

From the car park of The Soldier Dick we turned right along the A6 for 80 yards before turning right again at The Imperial Palace Chinese restaurant into Yeardsley Lane. This was the start of a gradual but unrelenting climb for the next 75 minutes.

At the end of the lane a path continued forward which we followed, swinging right at the entrance to a caravan park and going through a farm gate by the side of stables (15mins). A steady climb brought us to a road (32mins).

There had been an attempt at drizzle to dampen our spirits, but the donning of your diarist’s “magic pants” had once again proved effective against the rain.

On our last visit we had turned right here for 400 yards before reaching on our right “The Murder Stone.” This marks the spot where, in the early 19th Century, a merchant had been battered to death by three murderers. Two were captured – one in Macclesfield and the other boarding a ship at Liverpool.

The man held in Macclesfield hanged himself in his cell – presumably to escape being convicted, sentenced and, er, hanged. The man arrested in Liverpool pleaded not guilty on the ground that he was out for a stroll with two strangers when they suddenly attacked a man without warning, stole his money and ran away.

He took a share of the loot because he feared they might kill him too. The jury did not accept this story and he was hanged judicially. The third man seems to have got away with murder.

Instead of turning right to visit the scene again, we turned left and after some 80 yards we turned right at a green footpath sign. We reached a stile on our right 50 yards short of The Dipping Stones. Legend has it that during the Plague which gripped Britain in the 17th Century, villagers bought goods by leaving their money in holes which had been gouged out of the rock and filled with vinegar as a disinfectant.

We crossed the stile (38mins) and headed right in the direction of Lyme Park. Nature lovers may be interested to know we saw a pretty display of blue harebells on the ground and an aerial display by a hovering kestrel.

As we reached a gravel path, three of the party opted to turn right in the direction of the former Moorside Inn, now a home for disadvantaged children, while their leader and Lawrie turned left for 20 yards and then right just in front of a cattle-grid.

This proved to be an arrow-straight route to Lyme Park, crossing a stream by a footbridge, following a footpath sign across a road and crossing a stone step stile to enter Lyme Park (72mins).  Here the leader and Lawrie stopped within the acceptable parameters of Pietime for a mid-morning break, while those who had gone the wrong way took an early Pietime break elsewhere.

We shall say no more about it (See Rule 1). After re-uniting we immediately split up when four of the group decided not to go with their leader to Bowstones. It was but a short journey, walking away from the Lantern Wood in Lyme Park and keeping a drystone wall on my left.

I passed the Monkhouse memorial (77mins) and crossed a ladder stile on my left (82mins) to reach Bowstones Farm on the left and The Bowstones just beyond. The latter are ancient relics, even older than The Wednesday Wanderers, which have some connection with Lyme Hall.

After admiring the panoramic view, your diarist retraced his footsteps back to the ladder stile, then continued straight ahead downhill (86mins).  This path led to a gate into woods (96mins). As I approached a gate to leave the woods, Lyme Hall appeared to my right.

After leaving the woods (99mins) I swung right downhill. Another gate (105mins) brought me to the car park which I crossed to the left of the kiosk and started climbing steeply uphill. This brought me to the path which leads left uphill to Lyme Cage.

After reaching the Cage (116mins), from where gamekeepers once kept their eyes on the deer herds and incarcerated any poachers, I carried on downhill to the entrance hut (130mins). Here I turned right, leaving the park and entering Red Lane. This took me up then down past St Mary’s Church on the right to emerge at the crossroads controlled by traffic lights in Disley (142mins).

After turning right along the A6 for 100 yards, I crossed the road to enter The Dandy Cock (144mins) for an emotional reunion with my followers. The cask mild at £2-65 was in excellent form, and we were amused to see Tom served with a mug of chips. We were further amused when Colin greedily snatched one from the top of the pile and burned his mouth. The biter bit, so to speak.

Resuming we left the pub, turning right out of the front door and immediately right again down a road past a row of terraced houses.  We walked under a rail bridge (145mins) and turned left into Sherbrooke Road (147mins). By walking to the left of a house called Waters Edge, we reach a footpath on the bank of the Peak Forest Canal (151mins).

We turned right, with the canal on our left before using Bridge 26 to cross to the opposite bank (156mins). At a bench just beyond the bridge we paused for lunch (157mins).

Continuing with the canal now on our right, we passed the Swizzels Matlow factory in New Mills on our left (175mins), with its nostalgic smell of “Love Hearts” and “Parma Violets.”  Further on we passed the Furness Vale Marina (195mins) before exiting the canal at Bridge 31.

As we turned right (199mins) we met the three B walkers, who had reached this point from the opposite direction. We went over the railway crossing and turned right at the A6, crossing the road and returning to our cars to de-boot (202mins).

The Soldier Dick had three different cask ales on offer at £2-80, all of which were deemed to be in fine fettle.

Next week’s walk will start at 9.35am from The Old Hall at Whitehough, Chinley. Colin will lead us to The Roebuck at Chapel-en-le-Frith, which we expect to reach by 12.15pm, before returning to The Old Hall at around 2.20pm.

Happy wandering.