My first walking holiday, part three

To conclude the account of my first walking holiday back in 1998, I finish with the second week, which was spent in the Hope and Edale valleys in the Peak District:

Stanage Edge

Monday 13th July 1998

This was not been a good day, in fact it was a bit of a disaster. I managed to catch a train to Sheffield all right, but when I got there I discovered that the train I had planned on catching to Hathersage was a “Saturday Only”, which seems like such a small mistake (!). I had an hour's wait in Sheffield so I walked into the city centre to relive my Uni days, but discovered that Sheffield has changed a lot and is still being changed (there was a lot of building work going on around the area). It almost made me wish I hadn't destroyed my memory! In the end I came back to the station and bought the ‘Dreamwatch’ magazine and read that until the train arrived.

When I got off at Hathersage I had my lunch and realised that I had forgotten to check the route I was taking (I had meant to do that on the train on the way up, but in fact I had been finally finishing off the Silverstone supplement from the Autosport mag). Due to my mix-up with the trains I was now late and unsure of my route. Undaunted I changed into my boots and set off for Stanage Edge, and soon got lost. I had taken a wrong turning towards Brookfield Manor and then I had some difficulty finding my way back to the road (I basically had to walk through the training ground), and then it started raining. After all my claims of being ready for any weather this gave me a lot of problems.

At a key moment in the pouring rain, I decided to abandon the walk as dictated in the guidebook since I didn't have enough time left so I walked straight up to the nearest point on Stanage Edge from where I was standing. When I got onto the Edge I had magnificent views but the wind was really strong. I could hardly do anything except just stand there with the rain drenching me. I stood with my back to the wind but the back of my jeans were getting drenched; I was despairing at the weather conditions and my own belief that I could walk in any weather. I soon came back down into Hathersage choosing to take the route that I should have taken onto the moor. At times I was getting particularly annoyed with myself as I couldn't seem to be able to do anything right. This day forcibly showed up my inexperience of hill-walking (and it showed that the most important thing is preparation). One thing is for sure, I would do Stanage Edge eventually, and ultimately it would not beat me. I got to the youth hostel for 5pm and settled in. I must say I quite liked this medium-sized hostel especially since I had a room all to myself! There were five other beds in this room but they are all unoccupied.

This was a very significant walk as it was an early lesson for me in how savage the weather on hills can be. It showed that I needed to have the right clothes to cope with the weather and be ready to adapt to the ever changing weather conditions. I reacted well in the circumstances as I was prepared to abandon the walk in view of the poor weather even though I did still manage to get to the Edge. I would continue to be intimated by bad weather for years after this, for example, I didn't go onto the fells when it rained during my first visit to the Lake District. It would be more than five years before I became confident in my ability to walk in bad weather.

The Win and Lose Hills

Tuesday 14th July 1998

This was a much better day. I had a thoroughly enjoyable walk to Edale following the route of the White Peak Way (I really must do that sometime) beside the River Derwent to Shatton and then up Win Hill through the village of Thornhill. From the top I descended into Hope and then climbed up Lose Hill before walking along the Great Ridge to Mam Tor.

Finally I completed the walk by dropping down into Edale and walking along the valley to the youth hostel. I enjoyed myself tremendously; the views were magnificent especially from Win Hill with the Hope Valley to the south and Ladybower Reservoir to the north. It didn't rain all day and at first it was even sunny, though later on in the day it became overcast and exceptionally windy, particularly on top of the Hills (especially on Mam Tor), but fortunately the rain didn't start until I got to the hostel.

This is a large youth hostel and I was in ‘Kinder’ Cottage high above it. It was alright, but Ravenstor remained my favourite. I remember this walk with a lot of affection, but not for the actual walk itself. It was the first time I had ever walked from one hostel to another and there was something about carrying everything I’d need on my back that I found exhilarating and exciting. I was abandoning all ties to home and all the safety nets; I was totally on my own having to survive with whatever I had with me. I have repeatedly done this again preferring to leave my car behind whenever possible, but still using the car when necessary for it’s convenience. I really enjoy walking from one hostel to another and it all started with this walk.

Kinder Scout

Wednesday 15th July 1998

I was not sure whether to tackle Kinder Scout and had actually decided not to when I saw a misty start to the day, but this changed, however, when I missed the train to Hathersage from where I was going to attempt the Stanage Edge walk again. While annoyed with myself I stubbornly walked up Kinder Scout not caring what the weather would be like. Although it was tough getting to the top I was rewarded with good views and the wonderful challenge of a moorland crossing. I didn't really have any problems as the weather improved wonderfully and the path was clear. It was great, if a little boggy and the going was often awkward. When I eventually arrived at the Pennine Way on the other side of Edale Moor I followed it back into Edale. The walk didn't take me very long, but that didn’t bother me too much as I just lazily looked around the Info Centre before catching a train home. This was a good holiday and I was sorry to see the end of it.

These two weeks were the start of something that has virtually taken over my life and dictated what I do during all my holidays. Looking back you could say my life was leading up to this, but I could so easily have not pursued it and missed out on all the wonderful times I’ve had on mountains. On many occasions I have stood on a mountain and thought I didn’t want to be anywhere else. Why would anyone not want to be at the top of a mountain?

My first walking holiday, part two

I am continuing to account my first ever walking holiday back in 1998:

Lathkill and Bradford Dales

Thursday 9th July 1998

After this walk I was in Elton Youth Hostel (which has subsequently closed) and it seemed to be a very different place to the previous two hostels that I’d just stayed in. This was a tiny, simple hostel with very few amenities. I still preferred Ravenstor, but this was a nice hostel, though I was beginning to feel a bit lonely. At Ravenstor I had lots of people to talk to from the two ladies I had meals with to the guy I shared a room with. At Hartington the only person I spoke to was the person who slept in the bunk above me. At Elton I hardly spoke to anyone.

I couldn't get out of the Hartington Youth Hostel quick enough and drove to a small picnic area on Moor Lane near Youlgreave. The walk started by crossing a few fields over to Cales Dale, a small dale that soon led me into Lathkill Dale. Once in the dale I got an idea to turn left and walk to the start of the dale and then back again via One Ash Grange Farm. This I did, which enabled me to get a glimpse of the caves and disused quarries at the top of the Dale where the landscape is rather bleaker than further down the dale. When I got back to the point where I had first entered the dale I had my lunch and realised that this was very close to the camp site at Haddon Grove that I had stayed in with a youth group many years ago. A lot of memories of my previous visits to the dales came flooding back.

After lunch I proceeded down the magnificent Lathkill Dale, which is easily one of the best, certainly one of the longest dales in the whole of the Peak District, it was great. At the end, in Alport, I circled round and travelled along Bradford Dale returning, slowly, to the car. By the time I was back at my car my feet were in agony. Although I have had other problems this week, I was mostly concerned about my blasted boots. I suppose I should have tried to break them in more before going on the holiday, but the thought of even more walking in them does not fill me with glee. I didn't want to take them with me next week. Back from the walk I drove to Elton and this very basic youth hostel. It was interesting staying there, but I was looking forward to a larger hostel. In the evening I had a walk around Elton and read, but I had not finished the British GP supplements. I had put an end to the dales now as my next walk was going to be along the Eastern Edges: Baslow and Birchen Edges.

My abiding memory of this walk is of the problems I had with my boots, but I also remember walking through a beautiful dale with sparklingly clear water in the river. This was a good walk so it’s a pity my boots are all that I really remember about it. Even more tragic is the fact that I have never been back to Lathkill Dale since, which is a great tragedy as it is a wonderful dale.

The Eastern Edges

Friday 10th July 1998

This was a much better day for me. I really enjoyed the walk and the blisters on my feet were giving me less of a problem. I left Elton and proceeded to the Curbar gap in the Eastern Edges. I had discussed where I was walking with a guy who had slept in my room and he suggested doing the edges to the north of where I had planned to walk. This sounded like a good idea, but I thought it would be an even better idea to do both so I walked along the planned route past Baslow Edge and on to Robin Hoods Pub where I had my lunch before heading back beside Birchen Edge. When I reached a crossroads I deviated from the guide book route that directed me back to the car past a bull and instead I went the other way (away from the bull!) north over the bleak moorlands beside White Edge.

At the end of the escarpment I crossed the moor over to the Grouse Inn and returned beside Froggatt Edge and Curbar Edge where magnificent views could seen across the Derwent Valley. I loved it all, particularly the bleak moorland passage and the on the final section beside Curbar Edge I was bathed in glorious sunshine with great views. After the walk I drove to Eyam Youth Hostel, which is a medium-sized hostel that didn't seem to have many people staying in it. For the first time I was now sleeping in a larger dorm with eight beds as opposed to the usual four, though I still preferred Ravenstor! In the evening I took a walk around the plague village of Eyam, which was very interesting and fascinating. The next day I was doing the Staffordshire (actually most of it was in Derbyshire or Cheshire and I only ever went into Staffordshire to take a picture!) Moors and then it was home for the weekend.

This was a good walk that has stayed in my mind as being one of the highlights of the holiday. The open country appealed to something inside of me much more than the enclosed dales and it would direct my yearnings for years to come.  I have returned to Froggatt and Curbar Edges in more recent years for a walk with a lady friend.

The Cat and Fiddle

Saturday 11th July 1998

I left Eyam Hostel at the start of the day to do a walk around some beautifully bleak and blustery scenery west of Buxton starting from the Cat & Fiddle pub (the second highest pub in England). This was an excellent walk that crossed over Goyt’s Clough and traversed Axe Edge Moor on my way to the Three Shires Head (which was a slight diversion from the text book route, but well worth the opportunity to visit a place that I had visited in my youth). The rain luckily stayed off for almost the entire walk and didn't start until I was getting near to the car; on my way home the heavens really opened. On my return people were saying how I've caught the sun with a rather red face and arms. I knew I should have brought some sun cream. I've had a great week on my own and although I was now home it wouldn't be for long. Monday morning I was catching a train up to Hathersage for more walking, but I had some problems: these boots. I had serious blisters particularly on the side of my left foot due to an indentation on the boot. Ow!

This completed the first week of my first walking holiday and I had a tremendous time that ensured I would be endeavouring to do this sort of thing again, many times and escalated to some epic walks over the rugged mountains of Scotland and Ireland. On these early walks I quickly learnt that it was vital to have the right equipment and the single most important of these was my boots. Unfortunately it would take me a long time before I found a pair of boots that comfortably fit my peculiar feet.

My first walking holiday

In 1998 I decided that for the first time I would go walking somewhere during my summer holiday and since I was already familiar with the Peak District I thought that was a good place to start. Less than a week before the holiday, however, I still hadn’t booked any of the hostels I would be staying in. I had only just joined the YHA and I didn’t realise that this would be a problem. When I finally got round to phoning the hostels I discovered to my surprise that a lot of them did not have any spaces because of school trips. I did manage to book four hostels for the first week starting on the Tuesday and two more for the week after so I began to devise my schedule around these arrangements, which is often the situation with hostels that force me to work around whatever hostels I can get into regardless of my original idea. These days I try to book the hostels as early as possible. I already have a good idea what I want to do next Easter so I want to start booking these hostels before too long, even though this is a lot earlier than I would normally book hostels – it’s normally no more than three months before.

I was also thinking of the things that I would need to take with me while walking. I knew I would need to take some sort of first-aid kit, but at first this was only some plasters and antiseptic cream which sufficed for my early walks until I went to the Lake District for the first time in 2002 when I remember having my small Lifesystems Pocket First Aid kit with me on that trip. That small pouch has been up every mountain with me ever since and has come in handy on a couple of occasions not least last year on the Isle of Skye when I cut my leg open on the Cuillin. I also thought it would be a good idea to get at least one pair of good track suit bottoms because I had been advised not to wear jeans for the Residential I went on the previous year as they can be a little restricting (although I usually bought loose jeans that were not too restricting). In the event it took me two years to get around to buying any and all my intervening walks were undertaken wearing jeans. Incidentally I still wear track-suit bottoms when walking and have still not graduated to purpose built trousers.

Onto the walks and I actually wrote reports of these first adventures having been a habitual writer of a diary so it seemed natural for me to write a report of my walks. In fact I had already got into the habit of writing a detailed report of all my summer holidays, but unfortunately this was not extended to any other outings I went on so my diary will not always be a ready source for any more of these nostalgic walks in future.

Five Dales

Tuesday 7th July 1998

I was in Ravenstor Youth Hostel after a magnificent day spent walking in the Peak District. I had set off from home first thing in the morning and drove up to Miller's Dale, although maybe not on the route I had intended, but I got there in the end. Starting from the Miller’s Dale Station car park I walked along Miller's Dale to Water-Cum-Jolly Dale, and then through Cressbrook Dale to Litton and on to Tideswell, where I had something to eat, returning via Monk's Dale back to the car. Monk's Dale was a little hard going underfoot, but I made it through and the weather was magnificent. I did the whole 10 mile walk in 4 hours.

 

When I arrived at the hostel, after booking in and at the Warden's suggestion, I took a walk before dinner and got lost! Well, not really, because if you looked at the route I took on a map you'd think it was planned. I walked past Litton Mill to Litton and across to Tideswell returning along Tideswell Dale and back to the hostel, so was a nice little walk. During dinner I sat with two ladies who were doing the "White Peak Way" and we were able to have a nice conversation about walking. They were astonished that I seemed to be starting my very first walk with ten miles around Miller’s Dale. As I pointed out to the ladies I have been walking of sorts for years. This was certainly not my first time in Miller’s Dale. During the evening I read Terry Pratchett's "Sourcerer" while trying to ignore the masses of children running around the hostel, which I feared I would probably have more of at the next hostel. This was a great walk that threw me in at the deep end on my walking career by starting in the fabulous valley of Miller’s Dale which I’d visited many times as a child (and a few times since this walk). I remember getting a little lost while trying to find my way into Cressbrook Dale, but aside from that the route was quite easy to follow.

Wolfscote and Beresford Dales

Wednesday 8th July 1998

Another day and things have taken a down-turn. The walk was fine, but I had a little difficulty finding Hartington (well it’s not possible to read a map and drive at the same time, so what can you expect?). I walked south from Hartington eventually reaching Alstonefield where I had my lunch. There I changed my plans and walked down a narrow lane into Milldale, which is the overcrowded tourist-filled northern end of Dovedale. Quickly moving away from the crowds I walked north into Wolfscote Dale. I remember a Church walk that passed through that valley a couple of years ago that went from Hartington to Wolfscote Dale through Biggin Dale. The last section of my walk now took me through Wolfscote Dale into Beresford Dale so it was a repeat of that earlier visit but it was still a glorious experience in the warm sunshine. Back in Hartington, after a rest, I went to the schools-infested Hartington Youth Hostel and I was not impressed. Ravenstor is a much more impressive hostel with better facilities. Although the room I was in had the same number of beds as in Ravenstor, it was half the size, so there’s no room to swing anything! The new "Dish of the Day" meals service, which provides a more restaurant-like service, may have given me more food, but it also gave me higher prices (and the attractive girls at the tills didn't know how to work everything yet!). During the evening I read and finished the F1 Racing and Autosport mags, except for the Silverstone supplements. My biggest source of problems however were not with the hostel: I had blisters. My feet were just not used to the treatment I was putting them through, but that’s just tough! I’m walking along Lathkill Dale tomorrow.

The second walk of my holiday was rather a mixture with some rather dull walking across fields on the first half and then much better walking beside the River Dove on the return in, as I recall warm, sunny weather. Unfortunately I also remember the problems I had with the cheap boots that I’d bought especially for this walk. These boots continued to cause me problems even after they were broken in and were soon replaced by a much better pair. More from this holiday next week.

University walks

During this summer I have not been doing any major walks, preferring instead to wait until the weather cools off later in the month before venturing out onto mountains. I have, though, still been doing some walks locally. A couple of weeks ago I repeated the Charnwood Forest Round that I had completed last Christmas, just in better weather this time. It was just as tiring as previously and even left me aching for days afterwards which rather surprised me as although it was 24 miles there were no major hills to climb (the highest being Bardon Hill, the highest in Leicestershire at 278m), so it shouldn’t have been too difficult for me. In fact most of the walks I was doing on a Saturday afternoon were around the Charnwood area. Despite the lack of mountains it’s becoming a real favourite of mine as I hunt around for the small traces of volcanic rock that in the whole of Leicestershire exist only in that area. Last Saturday I walked from the village of Woodhouse Eaves to the Outwoods (a recently discovered gem), and from there along a permissive path into the wonderful Wood Brook valley. Climbing out of the valley through more woodland I reached the top of Beacon Hill before descending back into Woodhouse Eaves. It was a wonderful walk through quite charming surroundings, but it only lasted a couple of hours so is not really worth detailing on these pages.

Over the winter I began a short-lived series about some of my earliest walking experiences. I mentioned that while I was at University I went for a walk in Edale but I didn’t go on my own or join a walking club from the University, instead I went walking with my father. Less than two months after our first successful walk we were back again to attempt the fifth walk in the pamphlet that I’d bought (8 Walks Around Edale – probably still available from Edale Information Centre). This was a seven mile walk described as “Dramatic and extensive views from this famous ridge make the climb worthwhile.” The walk climbed the hillside along the Chapel Gate track up to the Bronze Age burial mound on Lord’s Seat. The weather was really hot so once we reached the summit I took my shirt off and learnt an important lesson: Wear Sun Cream. Even though I described the walk as “brilliant” in my diary I also note that the back of my neck was “very sore” and “my arms also look a bit red as does my shoulders and chest.” Despite catching the sun I concluded by saying “I must do it again.”

A couple of weeks later I went on holiday with some friends to the seaside near Weymouth. I didn’t really enjoy the week as what my friends liked to do didn’t really interest me, so to occupy my time while they were off elsewhere I started going for walks along the beach, first in one direction and then in the other. A couple of days later I went for another walk to the local White Horse, a pile of rocks on the hillside arranged in the shape of a white horse. The rest of my time was spent reading; it’s a pity I didn’t do more walks, or maybe actually spent some time socialising with my friends! Still, this shows that even at this time with very little walking experience behind me my inclination on holiday was to go walking.

The following year I was back in Edale with my father doing the sixth walk from my pamphlet, which is described as “A fairly strenuous ridge and valley walk with panoramic views of the Edale and Hope Valleys.” This was an 8½ mile walk along the Great Ridge to Lose Hill and down into the valley returning below the southern cloughs of Kinder Scout. My diary says “It was a very nice walk, very sunny and very pleasant. I have caught the sun just under my eyes – it’s interesting what standing in the sun can do – give you skin cancer!” I remember this as being a really enjoyable walk so it remains a mystery why this was the last walk I did with my father in Edale. Instead a couple of months later we took a train to Ribblehead in the Yorkshire Dales. I remember during an earlier visit to Ribblehead walking up to a stone air-shaft from the railway tunnel through Bleamoor. It was a bit of a climb to get to the top and I was rather proud of climbing all the way up there, but it was only 1500 feet, which is astonishing now when I think about it. I have pin-pointed this earlier visit to my last ever holiday with my parents with my diary describing the walk thus: “We went on a walk around the Yorkshire Dales near the railway line to the tunnel mouth to Bleamoor Tunnel. The scene of the viaduct was awe-inspiring.” The weather on my later visit was so poor that we didn’t get any further than the viaduct before returning to the station and catching the train back to Sheffield.

In my final year at University I didn’t do any walking at all as I was revising so much for my exams (much good it did me!). Even though my exams were over by the end of May I still never went out for a walk and instead I spent most of my time on computers (no change there!). In fact I can think of no serious walking that I did for the next four years, which really astonishes me. What was wrong with me? What was I doing instead? Not much from what I recall. Then in the autumn of 1997 I went on a residential in North Wales as part of a Supervisory Management course (again that didn’t really help me). A large part of the weekend was spent in team-building exercises and one of the tasks was to be driven somewhere and be expected to find our way back to the centre. As we were given a map and directions this was easy and I found myself actually leading the team for this exercise as I had already shown good map-reading skills (where I got them from I don’t know – I was never in the Scouts!). I remember during the course of the walk gazing at the night’s sky and the brilliant North Wales scenery and thinking I was loving this. I described the evening like this in my diary:

“After a truly gruesome dinner, we split up into our teams and my team was taken to Croesor. We were given a map and directions and told to find our way back to Aberglaslyn. So with me holding the map (the leader!) we walked back. This was very enjoyable (sic) and we all had a very good time; most of the team commented that the walk was one of the highlights of the weekend, but wished it was more difficult with less road walking. I enjoyed it immensely and made me wish I did more country walking.” Why hadn’t I already been going walking? I couldn’t answer this question but I knew then what I would be doing the following the summer, and I have been doing it ever since.