Thursday 26 January 2012 – Audlem to Nantwich – A Stroll along the Shropshire Union Canal

Dave and I had planned this little excursion over some Christmas jollities, and our plans actually came to fruition, with Andrew joining us for a short stroll alongside a canal.

The 12.05pm 'number 73' from Nantwich bus station took about 25 minutes to deliver us to St James' Church in Audlem. Outside the Gothic church, which dates from around 1278, is a pillared buttermarket, built in 1733, next to which is a 'bear stone', to which a bear was chained whilst men paid fees for their dogs to bait it.

There are plenty of pubs in Audlem.  Today we chose the Shroppie Fly, a former granary warehouse that has only relatively recently been converted into a pub.  The bar is made out of the original Shroppie Fly – a grain carrying barge that used to work the canal.  A log fire roared in the middle of the lounge.  Good ale, and bacon and egg butties, prepared us for the cool but bright weather outside, but we were still reluctant to venture from the cosy warmth…

The large crane outside the pub is a relic from the past – it was used for loading and unloading, involving the canal and a now defunct railway.  In days past a cheese boat sailed to Manchester; every Saturday morning local farmers would cart their cheeses down here for loading.

Lock 13, just outside the pub, is the lowest of a flight of locks that descends into Audlem from the south, ensuring good business for Audlem's hostelries, and especially this one.

Today’s stroll was basically just along the towpath, in a northerly direction to Nantwich.  The sun was on our backs, casting long shadows.  Beyond Moss Hall – a timber-framed manor house dating from C17 - clear views to the north east on this cool January day drew the eye as far as the western edges of the Peak District.

A Thomas Telford aqueduct sees the canal over the River Weaver, far below, with an information board disclosing a few of the birds you can expect to spot hereabouts.  Today there were large groups of Canada Geese, mallards, moorhens, kestrel, sparrowhawk, mute swans, rooks, crows, wood pigeons, starlings, numerous hedgerow birds, and back in Nantwich the brief sighting of an unmistakable Little Grebe or ‘Dabchick’.

A new marina has opened on the west bank of the canal.  Lots of boats are clearly stored there for the winter, and some were being lovingly maintained/restored as we passed by.  Further on, this lone tree, home to a few rooks or carrion crows, caught my eye.

Milestones are judiciously placed to nudge travellers along their way…

At the height of the canal era, fast ‘fly-boats’ would speed along here, between Birmingham and Ellesmere Port, carrying up to 25 tons of goods such as butter, cheese, ham and grain from the farming communities, and coal, timber and limestone from industrial centres.  To make the journey as fast as possible they travelled through the night, with the aid of huge oil lamps.

The Shropshire Union Canal Society has provided frequent facilities for 'cruisers' – on this stretch there’s a whole series of picnic benches with frames for disposable BBQs - making no doubt for a leisurely and convivial summer's evening scene.

Half way along our walk we encountered a top secret diversion. It was a difficult job, but after some debate we cracked the code and successfully worked out the secret hieroglyphic that pointed us towards the ‘bunker’.

Sadly, the location (see map below) is so secret that people only seem to be able to find the place at weekends during the winter months.  It was locked up and we were unable to spy on any secret goings on.  The Secret Bunker would however provide an interesting diversion should this walk be attempted at a weekend or in the summer.  The website is quite fun in itself!

Soon we were back beside the canal, heading towards Nantwich again and passing under the railway before taking a right turn away from the canal.

Arriving at a pedestrian crossing, in the absence of a lollipop man a decision was made not to attempt to cross in front of the traffic.

A pleasant stroll through the market town of Nantwich, where St Mary's Church is known by some as the 'Cathedral of South Cheshire' returned us to our cars, judiciously placed in a leafy suburb next to a welcoming tea shop (aka chez Dave and Maggi).

Here’s our route – 14 km in about 3 hours:

Very enjoyable too – here’s a slideshow with some of the same text and a few more images.

A Weekend in Tyndrum – 21/22 January 2012

Oops, I’ve got a week behind!  Sorry!

Annual trips to Canada and a variety of other factors have resulted in the winter bunkhouse weekends that I was in the habit of organising being missed for the last few years.  That’s a shame, as they were enjoyable affairs.  But this year our visit to Canada is later than usual, so I was delighted to be able to tag along on this XXL Hillwalkers Club weekend based at the By The Way Hostel in Tyndrum.

A leisurely journey up north in constant rain (perhaps the reason for the lack of traffic) on Friday afternoon was punctuated for me by afternoon tea and Shirley’s excellent carrot cake, with John in Kilmarnock.  Well worth the effort.  We were classmates at Guisborough Grammar School and hadn’t crossed paths for nearly 13 years.  John’s garage is a motor cycle museum – the WW1 bike he is currently working on looked magnificent.

Anyway, I was soon enjoying a giant burger and chips in the Real Food Cafe, in the excellent company of a number of XXLers.

By Saturday morning it was still raining and clearly blustery high up.  Twenty or so of us set off in different directions, mainly with modest objectives, all carefully letting others know where we were going.  I joined a small group whose plan was to venture to the summits of two nearby 2000 foot hills, Meall Odhar and Fiarach, having decided that my original aim to get to the loftier 3053 ft summit of Beinn Chabhair was perhaps a little optimistic.

Those who hadn't started in waterproofs soon rectified their omissions as our group of seven took the forest track towards Cononish, the site of a proposed gold mine, then up over easy rough ground to an obvious fire break. Meall Odhar lurked easy looking above.

Through the firebreak, we ascended for a distance of about 200 metres, keeping to the left of the stream, before taking a right and a left and rising to a long rake left onto an open hillside with fine views towards Beinn Dubhchraig, Ben Oss and Ben Lui.

"Grim up there!" muttered Alastair, who with Margriet not feeling too well, strained to keep the group together.

After a while, six of us reached Meall Odhar summit - 656 metres – pictured above.  Margriet assures us that she also made it to the top, a bit late, but she did join us later for lunch.

That's Beinn Ghuirn (880 metres) in the background - I think Jerry made it to that summit before the wind strengthened (it was merely breezy at this point).

We soon turned tail – looking ahead to our next objective, Fiarach, whose 652 metre summit presented itself as an easy looking little bobble on the near horizon.

Lunch was taken in a sheltered spot at the foot of the firebreak.

The convex slopes of Fiarach soon beckoned for all apart from Margriet - “I’ve already been up there” she announced “I’m going to have a relaxing afternoon”.  The rest of us safely negotiated a nail biting river crossing (see map below) before meandering up the easy convex slopes of Fiarach.

By now it was rather windy; we tried to stay in the lee of the wind, heading past a small waterfall towards a high point in the distance.

We reached that high point. The wind pinned us down. It was still about 500 metres across the plateau to the true summit, with very little more ascent.  Alastair and I waited for the others to arrive.  He crawled over to them.  I tried to stand – a mistake - and twisted my knee with the sickening tweak that indicates real damage, as I was blown across the hillside. Luckily, we had deliberately chosen this easy hill with no significant crags.

I watched as Simon retreated on hands and knees in search of less extreme conditions.  Meanwhile, Alison’s rucksack had been opened by the wind.  Its contents floated around the top of the hill for a while before mainly being recovered by a manically crawling rescue party.

It was a challenge to move anywhere - Alastair reckoned the wind was around 70 mph.

Trying to escape from being pinned down, we mainly crawled/bumslid to a slightly calmer area before descending on easier ground.

I struggled with my sprained knee, and was glad to (eventually) reach the relative calm of the valley and the easy West Highland Way path, from which there were good views back to Meall Odhar and Beinn Ghuirn.

In 1306 the Battle of Dalrigh took place near here.  Clan MacDougall’s warriors defeated Robert the Bruce and in the process gained a royal jewel called the Brooch of Lorn.  Robert the Bruce had recently killed the Red Comyn, a rival to the Scottish Throne.  After losing the battle of Methven in June 1306 he fled into the Highlands, eventually making his way into MacDougall territory. Unfortunately for Robert the chief of the MacDougalls was a relative of Red Comyn. A simple stone bench beside the West Highland Way marks what is believed to be the site of the battle.

Nearby is the ‘Loch of the Legend of the Lost Sword'. It is said that Robert the Bruce ordered his men to fling their weapons into the loch to lighten their load. Amongst the weapons were his massive sword, which was reputed to have been between five and nine feet in length.

We soon passed a vegetation-free scar that marks the site of a lead crushing plant; minerals that leached into the ground have prevented vegetation from growing for many years in this area that is rich with minerals.  The proposed gold mine at Cononish is indeed just ‘up the road’.

It was something of a relief to return to the sanctity of the hostel by 4pm, leaving plenty of time to prepare for a most enjoyable ‘Burns Supper’.  We discovered that only those with modest aspirations for the day had succeeded in their objectives, and others had like us failed to reach summits that barely exceed 2000 feet.  Our aspirant Munroists had all been driven back at around 700 to 800 metres.

Here’s our route: 18km, approx 1000 metres ascent, 6hrs 45mins.

Stuart's Burns Night Speech made for a perfect grace, before we were tucking into an excellent Burns Supper and the camera took cover for the night.  This was the camera that was recently ‘drowned’ following its dunking in a sink for a few minutes after a mountain bike ride.  Total immersion in a bowl of rice seems to have revived it.  Today was too wet for me to risk a more pricey possession!

Sunday 22 January – saw me leaving for home after breakfast.  The sprained knee needed rest, not exercise.

It also benefited from frequent stops, this one just about catching sunrise over the Crianlarich Hills.

The David Stirling Memorial - unveiled in September 2011- celebrates the 70th Anniversary of the formation of the SAS (Special Air Services) Regiment, with new plaques in remembrance of the Regiment’s casualties.

The Memorial enjoys a fine panoramic view to the west, which for a short period will grace the head of these pages.

Readers will be pleased to hear that my sprained knee is slowly improving.  I hope it recovers as well as the Ixus 105 camera that was used for Saturday’s photos.  There’s an album covering the whole weekend that can be viewed as a Picasa slideshow (39 images) here.

This will, I’m sure, be remembered for some time as a trip when numerous folk who had climbed all the Munros, many of them in winter conditions, failed to summit the small hillock known as Fiarach.  Few can boast of such a dramatic failure!

Wednesday 18 January 2012 – The Lancashire Trail (Part 4) – Rivington to Abbey Village

The East Lancs LDWA’s Lancashire Trail series of walks is gaining in momentum.  An excellent turnout of 12 walkers on a dreich day stretched the skills of our car parking attendant as he strove to avoid conflict with neighbours and blocked drives.

Eventually Allan arrived and we started off from Reg’s house to narrowly miss the 125 bus to Rivington. Standing outside a shop that was selling hot pies and creamy cakes didn’t appeal to Reg, so we passed the time before the next bus by strolling along to another stop.

We started off where we finished on 13 December, past Norman's friend, the wet wallaby of Dryfield Lane.  It was a slow start.  Waterproof clothing was needed.  The paths were muddy.  Toilets at Rivington Lower Barn were … convenient.

A pleasant stroll alongside Rivington Reservoirs brought us out near Alance Bridge, where the picture above was taken.  Then Anglezarke Reservoir was our companion until a splinter movement, led by R Norman (60, and looking every day of it) saw Norman sloshing through a field and four others strolling along a dryish path, leaving Reg and his disciples to trudge through the deep mud of an alternative, newly laid, trail beside the River Goit. 

Our 'alternative' route to White Coppice soon crossed a marshy area where Norman was temporarily stranded on a pontoon masquerading as a footbridge linking two giant puddles.

White Coppice cricket pitch appeared – we enjoyed a quintessential English village scene from our lunch spot on the long bench under the pavilion’s verandah.  Just the sunshine and the players were absent.

Two other walkers sat miserably on a distant bench in the rain.  We would have embraced their presence had they asked, but they waited for us to leave before taking adjourning to the comfort of the pavilion.

Norman friskily led half the group up the direct route beside Dean Black Brook, but progress from now on was rather slow as Reg had failed to inflate his energy bank before setting off after lunch.  Clearly two fudge brownies were not enough (even though most others only got one!).

We spent a while at the ruin of Drinkwaters Farm, where Joe's Cup received a donation before being replaced in its home deep within an old dry-stone wall.  I recently wrote about this here.

It was a romp from the ruined farm to the summit of Great Hill (380 metres), where these old timers pottered around the X shaped windbreak whilst awaiting the arrival of their leader.

Despite the dull day, the grassland was a lovely colour on the descent towards Abbey Village.  Our route went left past the trees above Reg’s head (see below), then right alongside the distant wall that leads towards the woodland.  Long-time readers of these pages may recall that the top of Darwen Tower blew off a while ago – it appears here in the distance, with a newly refurbished top (turret?) that I’ll visit soon.

Allan, Reg and I fell well behind as we sauntered down the hill towards Roddlesworth Woods, where moss covered exposed roots amidst a bedding of beech leaves make for a very pretty winter’s scene beside the River Roddlesworth.

Norman’s power-crazed mind couldn’t restrain him from leading his group of nine around the north side of Roddlesworth Reservoir, whilst Reg, Allan and I enjoyed the colourful woods to the south.

Soon we were on the last lap to the Hare & Hounds at Abbey Village, where the three of us could see Norman’s men outside, with freshly charged glasses.  “We’ve got a good five minutes before the 3.19 bus to Wigan” observed Reg, at 3.12, when the bus arrived.  Some frantic gulping was necessary, and some beer went to waste, only Peter having the presence of mind to slowly sip his pint to the dregs whilst waiting for the sudden queue for bus tickets to subside…

It remains a mystery as to why the bus timetable carried by the driver differed significantly from the one displayed at the bus stop.  Passengers need to arrive about ten minutes early in order to avoid missing the bus!

Here’s our route for the day – 18km, 400 metres ascent, in about 5 hours including stops.

A short (27 images) slideshow is here, and Reg’s take on events is on this web page.

Two bus rides got us fairly swiftly back to ‘chez Reg’ where afternoon tea with scones went down a treat.  Thanks Reg, and Saro, for your hospitality for the second time in a month.

For anyone interested, the next stage of this trail will see our feet on Wednesday 22 February.  Let me know if you want details in due course, or get them from the LDWA website.

Back to Lancashire Trail Index

Missing Hillwalker – Grant Cunliffe

I do not take pleasure in posting this entry.  Fellow TGO Challenger and ‘Dales Walker’ Heather T-S has asked me to reiterate the message she sent out earlier today.  It’s self-explanatory.

“URGENT: A serious message to all those out Winter Walking/Mountaineering or Skiing in the Cairngorms - Missing Hillwalker, Grant Cunliffe. 
A local friend, Grant Cunliffe, is missing and despite a full search by several Mountain Rescue Teams and Helicopters he has not yet been found. I gather he left his sleeping bag at Corrour Bothy having gone through the Lairig Ghru, which suggests he expected to use the bothy as a base.

I do not have details of his route but he was due home on Saturday after a couple of days hillwalking. He may have gone through Cornice, be on the Plateau or be in a gully; the current avalanche hazard is considerable in areas with NE to SE aspect (please see www.sais.gov.uk  for up-to-date information). He has Winter skills and it seems he had a snow shovel with him (now thought to be unlikely) so he may have had to dig in. It was very windy on Saturday so snow will have blown into lee areas creating some windslab.

The Northern Constabulary have asked that if any member of the public has seen Grant since last Wednesday (18th Jan) to notify them immediately on 01479 810222. Please see http://www.northern.police.uk/News-and-Media/news-item.htm?item_id=PR4115_2012 for more details.

If anyone can post this onto other sites/blogs or forward to others known to be walking in the area,  etc I would be grateful.  I have posted a message onto TGO Challenge Message Board & Emily has put on TGO’s Facebook & Twitter pages. 

It is a shock after just returning from trip to Lochaber myself as know the winds on Saturday were dreadful* so I fear the worst if he was already in trouble.

Best wishes to all

Heather”

I’m sure our thoughts are with Grant and his family, and that we all hope he is found soon.

Martin

* – I also experienced these winds – we were pinned down at 600 metres for a while.

Update – 8 June 2012
Grant’s body was found on 7 June in the Braeriach area, as the snow line finally recedes in the Cairngorms.  Very sad, but at least his family can now grieve properly.  Our thoughts are with them, and with all his friends.

Test

It seems that my Google account has been disabled and my blog has been deleted, so you may never read this.

But I’m alive and well, if invisible!

Martin

PS – And if you do read this the blog may even have revived!

Joe’s Cup

 

The old enemy (time) has delayed the write up of my continuing perambulation along the Lancashire Trail with East Lancs LDWA group.  I’ll write about that next week, but here’s a highlight from Wednesday’s ‘plod’.

On the moor above the quintessential English village of White Coppice, stands the ruin of Drinkwaters Farm.  Norman claims to have known the old farmer – he probably hastened the poor man to an early grave!  The farm was so named because of a nearby spring which still flows, rather gently, just below the path from the summit of Great Hill.

Not far from the farm ruins is a small, discrete memorial to a local fell runner, Joe Whitter (1939-1991).

Joe, a member of Wigan Phoenix,  was one of Lancashire’s true fell running characters well known for his ultra-distance runs over these moors. The spring at Drinkwaters was used regularly by Joe and his companions on Sunday morning runs.  The February 1992 Fellrunner magazine contained an obituary where it was observed

“Joe Whitter was one of those essential characters that make fell running what it is. The Anglezarke Moors will be a poorer place without him and he will be sadly missed. Typically, Joe requested his ashes be scattered on the moors he loved, and there are many fell runners who will now be unable to run past Drinkwaters on Great Hill without remembering him.”

Norman seems now to have taken over custodial duties in relation to the cup, which is now used to collect small donations – here Anne is doing just that, making a donation.  With my money!  I’m sure it’ll go to a good cause.

Much of the text for this posting was taken from Ian Charters’ excellent running blog – here – I do hope Ian doesn’t mind.

I’m heading north for the weekend in a few minutes, so will be back next week with a fuller report on Wednesday’s walk from Rivington to Abbey Village.

Have a great weekend, everyone.

Back to Lancashire Trail Index

Five Days of Winter Sunshine

The wet weather had to end sometime, and the forecast of fine weather was reliable enough to allow Rick, Stuart, JJ and me to enjoy a superb day in the Lake District on Friday.

The good weather continued until Wednesday morning, when we woke to fine drizzle from a low cloud.  I’m slightly ashamed not to have taken better advantage of the fineness, but the Parkrun on Saturday was under clear skies, and JJ joined Sue and me for a very pleasant 10km stroll to Dunham Park and on to Altrincham on Sunday.  The header image is from Dunham’s Winter Garden, and there’s a slideshow from that walk/visit here.

Monday saw me take advantage of the continuing fine, frosty conditions via a bike ride to Lymm and back, but the small camera (Canon Ixus 105) that I thought had dried out after its drowning last week decided to remain poorly, so no images of a lovely sunrise.  All was well until the sun caught the frozen mud of the towpath.  The surface couple of millimetres soon thawed sufficiently to be dragged up by each turn of the wheels.  It was like cycling through glue.  Glue that was thrown up and gradually enveloped both cycle and rider!  So whilst the conditions looked perfect for a ride, they were actually the opposite.  To cap it, our outdoor hose was frozen, so cleaning was laboriously attempted (‘achieved’ is not the correct word) using buckets of warm water to swill the mud…

Tuesday was another nice day, that somehow disappeared in a fog of forgotten activity.

And so to Wednesday, and fine drizzle from a low cloud – more of that later…

Friday 13 January 2012 – An Ullscarf Round

My plan to pop up Moel Siabod, on this the first day of really good weather of the year, were soon adjusted when I realised I could enjoy a lift with JJ and Rick, whose target was a very pleasant round from Thirlmere, involving Ullscarf and six other minor summits.

After abandoning Rick’s car at a leisure centre between Carnforth and Milnthorpe, we were all transported by Stuart up to Thirlmere, where we drove around for some while looking for free parking.  We gave up, but £7 for a day’s parking does seem a bit steep.

Anyway, we ‘booted up’ and set off along the lane to Dobgill, where readers may prefer to park should they follow in our steps (same price, but the short road walk is avoided).

It was a lovely day, and we soon warmed up as we headed steeply up (pictured above) beside a wood in which trees were crashing down in the wake of a Forestry Commission chain saw.

Pausing for breath by a small ring of iron railings that may reveal the site of an old well, with Bella, Stuart’s young collie, the dog posed obediently, fooling Stuart into thinking she would be well behaved today.

Above the high point of the forest the gradient eased as we made our way towards the balanced rock that marked our first summit of the day - Brown Rigg (463m).

Navigation was no problem at all on this bright, sunny day, despite the pathless nature of most of our walk.  But it was easy going throughout, and we dropped gently down to Stone Hause before ascending an obvious ramp up to our second summit, Blea Tarn Fell (558m), with fine views towards Skiddaw.

Heading into the sun towards Standing Crag, the following image portrays the terrain and skyscape that was typical of this lovely winter’s day.

After skirting around to the left, Standing Crag (611m) was easily attained.  Here’s JJ on the summit, with Bassenthwaite Lake and Skiddaw in the background.

We contoured high above Blea Tarn, gradually rising towards a raven sentry on the Low Saddle of Coldbarrow Fell (656m), where superb views drew the eye north to Watendlath, Derwent Water and Bassenthwaite Lake.

Time for a Team Photo: Martin, Stuart, Bella, Rick, JJ:

Lunch was taken, by four of us, anyway, whilst Bella disobediently foraged for victims on the fellside and finished up with JJ’s tasty scones. 

On the road again, we were soon looking back to High Saddle of Coldbarrow Fell (675m), from the ascent of Ullscarf (726m).

Ullscarf summit, our only ‘Wainwright’ of the day, afforded fine views of much of the Lake District, with Great Gable prominent to the west, and nearby Fairfield to the east.

To the south, we looked down to Helm Crag, with Windermere in the distance; Skiddaw and Blencathra vied for attention to the north.

From Ullscarf a pleasant descent over rough ground led to Wythburn Fell, with Seat Sandal and Fairfield directly ahead of us.

Here’s the approach to our seventh and final summit of the day, Wythburn Fell (508m), with the slopes of Helvellyn in the background.

Our descent route on this short round continued north east along the broad rough ridge of Wythburn Fell, skirting a beacon and eventually picking up a path leading from Ullscarf Gill.  A right angle turn then took us gently back down to the car park at Wythburn.

From where a short drive led to this excellent rehydration point, starring ‘Collie Wobbles’, which is what Bella may also have had after stern words from Stuart.

Here’s our route - approx 13km, 600m ascent, taking a leisurely 5 hours:

Our 7 summits are marked above as points 2 to 8.

There’s a 37 shot slideshow here.

All in all an excellent first mountain day of the year.

Wednesday 11 January 2012 - Marple Mellor Night Ride with the Manchester Mountain Bikers

Last night I enjoyed my second trip out with the Manchester Mountain Bikers, this time on a ‘night ride’, my main reason for getting together with this club.

A ride that lasts from 6.30 to 8.30 pm would more correctly be described as an ‘evening ride’, but it was dark, so who cares.  It was also fine, after another ‘mizzly’ day, and thankfully (whilst Liverpool were thrashing City in the rain in central Manchester) all we got by way of precipitation on this ride was a little very light drizzle.

Roman Lakes being closed, we started from Arkwright Road in Marple, taking care not to damage a pristine hedge, and soon after 6.30 I headed off with Walc, today’s leader, pictured above, Keith who I’d met before, and Steve, Adam, Richard, Austin and Poley, down the rutted lane towards Roman Lakes, then up the steep, rough lane to emerge at the golf course in Mellor.

This was the steepest part of the outing, which although ridable in its entirety somehow did seem to be mainly uphill.  Luckily Keith was ‘sweeping’ on this ascent, and arrived at the top carrying my rear mudguard and a foot protector that I’d lost without noticing.  Thanks Keith.  The other foot protector came off (my trail shoes turn out to be two bulky for these protectors, normally worn with trainers) and the mudguard was re-attached, though I spent the rest of the evening nervous about losing it again.

We were soon off again along the pleasant single-track to Brook Bottom and (sadly) past the Fox Inn.  Around here we lost Poley, allegedly due to a light failure, but I think he just fancied a drink. We then turned left to complete an interesting circuit via a fudge brownie break and Mellor Moor, with fine views of the lights of the surrounding towns, before regaining the single-track leading back down to the Fox Inn, which again we ignored, this time in favour of a steep but enjoyable descent to Strines Station on another track that hadn’t previously seen the wheels of one of my bikes.

Then it was easily back to the start via the lower track past Roman Lakes, chatting with Keith about bike trips to the Alps and Pyrenees.

I think Walc had intended to ascend back up to go around the golf course and down to Roman Lakes by a more sporting route, but it seems that he missed the turn.  I was quite happy with the short figure of eight circuit.

My new lights worked very well, and there was hardly any speed sacrifice due to the darkness, but a minor gear problem meant that I stayed in a low gear throughout the ride in a bid not to get covered in oil, so I tended to bring up the rear, being naturally the slowest on steep ascents and descents as well.  Sorry, folks, if I kept you waiting.

Here’s the approximate route – about 14 km, with 350 metres ascent, taking just over 2 hours.

My Garmin Gadget produced the following data:

As noted above, we returned extremely muddy.  So when I got home I dumped my track suit straight into a sink to wash off the worst of the mud.  Oops, my camera was still in the pocket.  It drowned.  It will now sit in a bowl of rice for a few days in a (probably futile) bid to resuscitate it.  The memory card was undamaged, though, and at least it wasn’t my new camera…

All in all a very pleasant little excursion, despite the camera mishap.

Sunday 8 January 2012 – A Circuit from Taddington and some Strange Encounters

With virtually no traffic we arrived early in Taddington, where sadly the Queens Arms wasn't yet open – so most of us had a long wait outside the pub.

Eventually we did get going, and 16 folk stumbled out of Taddington.  Mick was particularly eager to be let off his leash.

We were walking into what appeared to be a cold mizzle – it looked set to be a rather dank day.

The approach to Chelmorton took us past the village's former water supply – Bank Pit Spring, known as ‘Illy-Willy Water’, situated by a former lead mining site.  It was replaced in the late 19th century by a nearby (now redundant) 10,000 gallon tank.

We passed the Church Inn, ignored by our leader, who pressed on through the gloom.

After a while elevenses were taken beside a convenient wall at Town Head, with fudge, fudge brownies, and Phil's chocolate orange to supplement our diets.

Some grunting noises from behind the wall revealed some chatty residents.

We continued towards Flagg, in unexpected sunshine.

Unfortunately Flagg's hostelry was subjected to a devious by-pass.  Our leader, Sue W, had obviously gone tea total…

A skein of Canada Geese flew overhead, whilst a flock of Fieldfare and Redwings browsed in the fields nearby and a Kestrel hovered in the distance.

Our first strange encounter was an unusual mistbow (“a nebulous arc of light”) pictured at the head of this posting, which held our attention for some time and actually remained in position for much of the day.

Monyash was crowded with walkers, so some of us lunched at the War Memorial.

 

Other members of the group pointedly sat elsewhere; we were being irreverent in their eyes.  But we thought the remembered servicemen would delight in the fact that we were using the perfect 'bench' afforded by their memorial to scoff our well earned lunch.

The nearby Bulls Head provided sustenance to those whose flasks had run dry.

The village cross – Monyash…

…dates from about 1340, when the village was granted a charter to hold a weekly market on a Tuesday and a three day fair to celebrate the festival of Holy Trinity.  The cross was probably wooden, and mounted on top of the stone shaft.  The circular holes in the base are where lead miners tested their drills after sharpening them at the smithy.

The end of the mistbow had the features of a rainbow, but most of its nebulous arc was the white of a mistbow.

We came upon the remains of Magpie Lead Mine, near Sheldon.

According to the Peak District Mines Historical Society’s website:

The earliest recorded workings date from 1740, and the Magpie Mine was one of several such ventures working different veins in the same area. The miners had difficulty in keeping the workings free from water, but by 1824, a Newcomen type pumping engine had been erected on the Main Shaft. This led to the production of 800 tons of lead being mined in 1827, a record that remained unbroken until 1871.

Magpie Mine was also troubled by disputes with neighbouring mines over who had the right to work each vein. Miners from Magpie Mine and Maypitt Mine were both working the Great Redsoil Vein, and would light fires underground to smoke out their opponents. The arguments raged for years, both underground and in the courts. In 1833, three Maypitt miners were suffocated by the fumes, and 24 Magpie miners were put on trial for their murder. Several were freed immediately, and eventually all were acquitted because of the difficulty in identifying the individual culprits, and the provocative actions of the Maypitt miners themselves. It is said that the wives of the "murdered" men put a curse on the mine, and the effect of the disputes was to ruin the mine, which closed in 1835.

In 1839, the Magpie Mine, now incorporating the Great Redsoil workings, was reopened. A number of innovations were introduced, including steel borers, safety hats, safety fuse, and iron winding ropes, as well as a more regular pattern of shift working and payment for the workers.  The Main Shaft was deepened to 208 metres, and a 40-inch Cornish pumping engine was installed. When this proved inadequate, the manager proposed to replace it with a 70-inch engine, but the proprietors could not agree. Some felt that a sough (a drainage tunnel) would be a better solution, and appeals to the Duke of Devonshire to adjudicate fell on deaf ears.

Various attempts were made over the next 30 years, but it was not until 1873 that construction of the sough started. It took eight years to drive it from the River Wye near Ashford-in-the-Water to meet the Main Shaft, a distance of 2km.

Production of lead continued on and off into the 20th Century. An optimistic report in 1913 promised reserves of four million tons, which attracted businessmen from Sheffield and Glasgow to join forces with the owner. Their venture closed in 1919, and despite briefly reopening in 1923, nothing happened  with the mine until after the Second World War, when attempts to work the mine using submersible electric pumps were made.  A new winder - in reality a ship's winch fitted with a diesel engine - and a steel headgear were installed. Despite this more sophisticated equipment, no large body of ore was found, and with the end of the Korean War and the fall in the price of imported lead, the mine closed for the last time in 1954.

Back to the present…

After some uncertainty regarding the route, we passed through a vehicle showroom, where Paul was encouraged to make an offer for this fine machine with an identity crisis.

Sheldon looked a nice village, with home-made produce for sale, and a pub, around which our leader skillfully manoeuvred us.

Our second strange encounter of the day came at the top of Deep Dale, where some mountain bikers were lifting their equipment over a stile.

“They shouldn’t be here” – I could hear mumbling from some members of our group concerning the presence of bicycles on a footpath.  Looking down Deep Dale, we could see that it was very steep – hard enough to walk up, let alone push a bike.  One of the stragglers was huffing and puffing, and I’m sure I detected a voice emitting “Get a Move On” noises.

Yes indeed, this mountain biker was being encouraged to go more quickly, apparently by way of a combination of such noises and prickly love bites, by no less than a Green-cheeked Conure or Parakeet!

There’s a first for everything I suppose, we’d never seen this before, and those who (unbelievably) missed it didn’t believe the rest of us and claimed that my camera must be loaded with a photoshop tool!

And to be fair to these friendly mountain bikers, although it seemed like a narrow path, they actually had every right to be where they were – on a bridleway.

I've contrived to make the steep descent look deceptively flat!

A nearby information board refers to this area as having been lived in since Neolithic (Stone Age - from 4000-2500BC) times, and a 'Dark Gully where demons lived'.

By the time we had crossed the A6 and ascended to Brushfield, the light was failing and the mizzle had recommenced. I was at the back, or I’d have led a splinter group along the track to the NW of Brushfield, before turning SW down the pleasant path across High Dale, avoiding any tarmac.  But in her wisdom our esteemed leader (thanks Sue W) took us down to the A6 for an unpleasant section of tarmac completely at odds with the excellent quality of the rest of the route.  Luckily, back at Taddington the pub was open and the beer was good, in front of a roaring fire, for the six of us who enjoyed a relax and a chat before heading home.

Here’s our route – 20km with around 400 metres ascent.  It took us 6 hours, of which we were not moving for 2 hours.  The section from 8>1 is not recommended (by me at any rate) – I commend the track to the NE of High Dale, then the path across High Dale to Taddington for a very amenable conclusion to a good walk before reaching your 6th hostelry of the day…

There’s a mediocre (44 image) slideshow here, mainly for the benefit of those on the walk.

Here’s what the Garmin gadget recorded – feel free to use this data, Gayle (she forgot to turn her Gg on).