Skiddaw from Blencathra

Skiddaw is one of the highest mountains in the Lake District and is seen from the back of Blencathra. In between the two is the dullest, most uninteresting mountain in the whole of the Lake District. This flat plain is Mungrisdale Common and everyone should, quite rightly, ignore it, however, because Wainwright included it in his guides it now gets many people visiting the boggy top. I have been there several times including just before I took this picture in 2015.

Stob Coire a' Chàirn and An Gearanach

Either side of the lowest point in the Mamores range is the Munros of Stob Coire a' Chàirn and An Gearanach. The Mamores is a fabulous chain of mountains connected by narrow ridges except at this point, so a traverse of these mountains can easily be split at this point and that is what I did on this walk in 2017 when I descended down the grassy slopes to the left on this picture. Incidentally, you can see Ben Nevis in the distance to the right.

Hollins Hill, Chrome Hill & Parkhouse Hill

Saturday 22nd January 2005

I have been unable to do much walking lately due to an introduction of a local lockdown and poor weather, but that enables me to continue to look back on past walks. While describing my walking in the Peak District at the end of May I remembered that there are some walks that I had written reports for, but had never been described on this blog as they were written just before this blog was started. When I decided I wanted to go for a walk in 2005, my first of the year, my target was Chrome Hill in the Peak District, which had been in my sights for just over a year ever since my Father got a book of the Peak District from the air. One of the pictures was of Chrome Hill which I'd never seen before and it had piqued my curiosity but it took until this walk for me to satisfy it. One advantage of my wait is that I was able to benefit from the new Open Access agreements that came into force in the Peak District autumn 2004. In addition to Chrome Hill I was able to walk up Hollins Hill and Parkhouse Hill that walkers had not been able to do before.

I parked in the tiny village of Hollinsclough, though it took me a while to find it as it's not very well signposted. Setting off I headed north-west out of the village up the road, though it wasn't long before I reached a footpath on the right that heads back down the hill to a footbridge over the young River Dove. Turning left after the bridge I headed up the hill briefly until I sighted a recently installed gate marked as a Concessionary Path to Open Access Land. Passing through the gate I maneuvered around some cows and followed the path beside a fence and at the foot of the steep hillside before the path doubled back and headed steeply up the hillside. After a short distance the path doubled back again and came alongside a fence that it followed as it slowly gained height. The Open Access Land was the steep ground descending to my right but I was perched precariously at the edge of the ridge making my way round to the summit of Hollins Hill. On the map there is marked a tumulus at the summit but in practice all I found was a mound with a circular hole in the middle and a wooden stake in it, which I'm sure was a tumulus at one time.

Heading along the access path I descended to the track just south of Booth Farm. Walking north along the road I soon noticed a gap in the fence on the right which I took to be the beginning of the footpath that is marked on the map. Crossing the field I came across a farm track which had branched off from the road and crossing it found a stile next to the gate on the track. Taking this path I bypassed Stoop Farm going to the north of it until I approached the track again by a gate, but I didn't go through the gate. Beside the gate were two signposts giving directions to a Concessionary path to Chrome Hill and Glutton Bridge. This path headed south-east to the right of a fence passing Tor Rock on the right, though I was not able to resist sprinting up to the top of Tor Rock where I admired the view ahead, which is principally of Chrome Hill. Technically I was trespassing since Tor Rock is not on Access Land so I quickly headed back onto the path which now headed steeply downhill south of Tor Rock.

Once onto the Access Land the path climbs steeply and muddily onto the top of the ridge where I began my ascent of Chrome Hill. Being the kind of guy I am, I kept to the very top of the ridge all the way even if it meant going out of my to do so. I would go to the top of an out-thrust of rock and stand there for a moment looking at the views north, but ignoring the fact that to the south of me was more of the hill still to climb. Once at the top I sat down and basked in the view before me of the upper River Dove valley. I never tire of being at the top of hills and seeing the stunning scenery all around me. Chrome Hill is only about 430 metres and is smaller than Hollins Hill which tops 450, but the best feature of Chrome Hill is the view of it rather than from it. All day I was mesmerised by the views of that majestic lump of rock as I had circled around it like a bird of prey trying to decide which bit of the carcass to attack first. Chrome Hill is a huge fin of limestone rock sticking out of the ground but it is matched, if not in bulk, then in the steepness of its sides by its neighbour, Parkhouse Hill.

This hill, lying south-east of Chrome Hill had until recently been private property with no access allowed for walkers, but all that has changed. Both Parkhouse Hill and its tumulus-topped unnamed northern partner are now on Open Access Land, so once I had descended the grassy southern slopes of Chrome Hill I crossed the road and began my ascent of Parkhouse Hill. At the western end of Parkhouse is a small pillar of rock that necessitates an ascent up the northern slopes before I could successfully gain the summit ridge. Parkhouse Hill is a smaller hill in bulk, though steeper, than Chrome Hill so the summit was achieved rather more quickly. Descending the eastern end of Parkhouse I discovered there is no path off the access land toward Earl Sterndale and even though there is a gate to the north I had no intention of going in that direction. Following the fence clockwise around the foot of the hill I dropped onto the road and crossing it joined the track passing Stannery and headed back to Hollinsclough.

As my walks usually go, this one was rather short, taking a mere three hours, but it was still a delight and featured some enjoyable rocky ascents that could almost be called scrambles. I have become rather bored by the Peak District in recent years as I became used to the delights of the Lake District and Snowdonia, but this walk managed to hold a bit of the excitement that those places now hold for me. I find it difficult to find somewhere new in the Peak District, but with this walk I had succeeded, unfortunately I fear next time I want to go walking in the Peak District I won't be so lucky.

St. Sunday Crag

Saint Sunday Crag is seen on this picture basking in the sunshine from beside the distinctive, but small, top of Coda Pike. This is a fabulous ridge that runs from Patterdale on the shores of Ullswater to the great bulk of Fairfield, whose craggy slopes I was standing near when I took this picture. This was taken at the end of a two weeks' holiday I spent in the Lake District in 2018 during which I tried to visit the top of all the high fells. Although I didn't manage to reach the top of three of them it was still a great holiday and I was really gutted that it was ending as I came down off Fairfield.

The Five Sisters

This is the view from the Five Sisters in Scotland towards Loch Duich. The Five Sisters is a fabulous ridge in Kintail that I walked in 2009 and although it was a great walk the weather was mixed with snow at one point despite it being June. The picture was taken from towards the end of the ridge, near the fourth sister, Sgurr nan Saighead. The fifth sister is the shortest, less than three thousand feet high and broader than the others, but I still visited her. I didn't want to leave anyone out.

Crag Hill and Grasmoor from Grisedale Pike

The North Western Fells of the Lake District are seen from the top of Grisedale Pike in 2018. One thing that strikes me about this picture is how clear are the paths, which is both the curse and blessing of the Lake District. The place is so popular the paths have become very clear and easy to follow so along as you are on the right path! The heavy footfall on these paths have eroded some of them so many have now been restored with heavy manufacturing techniques that in some places are worse than the erosion. But when the mountains are this good who can stay away?

The Isle of Arran

The mountains on the Isle of Arran are seen in this picture from the approach over Beinn a' Chliabhain taken during my holiday on Arran in 2007 when I was fortunate to have great weather. These mountains provide great walking over steep rocky terrain that tests the scrambler, but with easier routes for the rest of us. Arran is often described as Scotland in miniature and these mountains are a great sample of the Highlands of Scotland at their best.

Esk Pike

Esk Pike is a fantastic mountain dwarfed by the giants around it. At 2903 feet high it is not small, but it is still looked down by it's neighbours, especially Scafell Pike. Thousands of people walk along this path towards Scafell Pike, but they don't go up Esk Pike, just like me on the walk when I took this picture in 2008, and yet it is doesn't shout for attention and it is happy to let it's neighbours get all the glory. And for that, I love it.

The Orkney Isles

On the coast of the Orkney Isles, not far from Stromness, is the stony bay of Billia Croo with the cliffs of Black Craig in the distance. I spent a week on the Orkney Isles in 2018 and was largely blessed with good weather, but what strikes me most about this picture is the litter on the shoreline. It breaks my heart.

Gratton Dale and Bonsall Moor

Saturday 30th May 2020

For the last day of my week’s holiday in the Peak District last May I returned to the Minninglow car park on the High Peak Trail to do a walk based on one that was relatively recent. The inspiration for most of my walks during this holiday were many years ago as I relived those old memories, but the walk that inspired this one was only three years ago. On that occasion I had caught a train to Cromford and set off along the High Peak Trail that I had now parked beside, but then I had not stopped until I reached the Friden car park, which is the next station along the old railway line before dropping into Long Dale. Now I was cutting the corner by starting from Minninglow car park onto the main road at Pikehall where I entered Long Dale, which is part of the Derbyshire Dales National Nature Reserve, and is your typical dry valley with limestone outcrops but generally grassy with plenty of wild flowers. However, the best thing in the area is not in Long Dale, but in Gratton Dale, which is accessed after turning north and whose slopes are covered in wild flowers that were initially mainly cowslip, but later the banks were also covered in oxeye daisy and buttercups and looked fabulous. When I was there in 2017 it had been earlier in the season so different flowers had decorated the scene but it still delighted me as I passed through the gloriously overgrown valley and was my primary motivator to do this walk again.

Sadly the valley eventually came to an end and I took a path that climbs to the east out of the valley though there was some confusion resulting from it not exactly matching the map. I recalled I had similar problems last time and this helped me as I picked my route on the wrong side of the fence, according to the map, that led me past Oddo House Farm to the village of Elton. After passing through the village I joined the Limestone Way, which I would now follow for most of the rest of the walk until I returned to the High Peak Trail. Upon joining the trail I headed steeply up a track, which in the hot, sunny weather was a bit tiring, slowly climbing above the village of Winster until eventually I reached Bonsall Moor where I found lovely meadows teeming with wild flowers in an abundant display that more than made up for the climb. With stunning views all around me under clear blue skies and gorgeous wild flowers at my feet I passed over Bonsall Moor until finally I began to descend to the Upper Town of Bonsall where a branch of the Limestone Way heads off to Matlock along a route that I previously took in 2018, while in 2017 I had left the trail to head down into Cromford so I could catch my train.

This time, after having my lunch, I turned south to stay on the Limestone Way along what were now virgin paths for me as I climbed out of Bonsall through terrain that was not as appealing as I had enjoyed earlier on Bonsall Moor and though occasionally I would see some interesting wild flowers they could not achieve the earlier interest as the walk now became a bit of a slog. I had considered following the 2017 route into Cromford, but that would have required a steep climb back out and in this heat I didn’t want to prolong the walk, however that was happening anyway. The Limestone Way was slowly taking me past the undulating terrain of Bonsall Mines and steeply down onto the main road at the top of the wooded Griffe Grange Valley, where the road takes a route known as Via Gellia, but is not a place to explore on foot, though it is a great place to drive or cycle. I now started climbing once more out of the valley around Grange Mill Quarry through dreary fields as my steps slowed with the tedium and I counted down the fields that I had left to cross until finally I reached the High Peak Trail not far from Harboro’ Rocks.

I had walked to this point on Monday along the Limestone Way and now I retraced my steps along the High Peak Trail and was relieved to be walking along the flat, level course of the old railway. The walk along the Limestone Way from Bonsall was exhausting, but I could now relax as I strolled back to my car. There was a lot of variety in this walk from the fabulous wildflower-covered dales at the start to the grassy hills covered with meadow flowers on the Limestone Way and ended with the flat High Peak Trail, though all under hot sunshine. The weather during this week in the Peak District was sensational, though perhaps a little too hot for walking, though it did compensate for the social distancing required at this time.

Green Gable and Great Gable

Here we have a snowy scene, though at Easter in 2013, under sunny skies of Green Gable and Great Gable in the Lake District. I had struggled to get a grip up to the top of Green Gable, on the left, on gentler slopes so knew that attempting the steeper terrain across the Windy Gap and climbing Great Gable would not be feasible. I retreated from Green Gable, but took this picture as I made my way down the grassy slopes of Brandreth reassured that I had made the right decision.

Bradford Dale

The beautiful, but secluded valley of Bradford Dale in the Peak District  is seen in early spring when the trees were free of leaves. The nearby Lathkill Dale gets all the attention but this little valley also deserves a look and I always do both valleys together, as I did on the walk when this picture was taken in 2009.

Hartsop above How from Hart Crag

The Hartsop above How ridge is seen from the top of Hart Crag with midsummer lush green vegetation. This was a mammoth walk that I did in 2009 and started from the foot of this ridge heading up the hills on the far side before circling round to the right of the picture, crossing the Kirkstone Pass, until by the time I had reached this point I was really tired. I stumbled down the ridge and eventually returned to my car after walking over ten hills. And then I drove all the way back home. I don't think I could do that now.

The Grey Corries

The magnificent Grey Corries ridge is seen in all its glory in this picture and is one of my favourite places in Britain. Since my first traverse of this ridge in 2006, I had caught just a few distant glimpses, but it wasn't until 2017 that I returned. I was so determined to have good weather that I waited out a wet day in a bothy at the eastern end of the ridge before doing this walk in fabulous weather. My patience was rewarded with this gorgeous picture.

The Coniston Fells

The great surrounding hills of the Coniston Fells is seen from the Coppermines Valley which at one time was a heavily industrial area, but is now a fabulous place to walk, as I did in 2012. The scars of the mining past remain, but the hollowed out mountains have survived, and that white building, which used to be the mine manager's house, is now an ideally placed youth hostel.

The Grey Corries from the Easains

The Grey Corries ridge is seen from the other side of Lairig Leacach at the top of Stob a' Coire Mheadhoin. This Munro and it's neighbour, Stob Coire Easain, form a fabulous ridge that I walked in 2012 with stunning views in every direction. But my eyes were constantly being drawn to the Grey Corries and my memories of walking along that ridge in 2006 are amongst my fondest.

The Greenburn Valley and Little Landale Tarn

The Greenburn valley and Little Langdale Tarn is seen from Wet Side Edge. This is on the edge of the Coniston Fells, which is a delightful, compact collection of hills to the south of the Lake District and provides great walking. The picture was taken, in 2012, after climbing those great fells and on many occasions the ridge of Wet Side Edge has been my route out of the area, though curiously it has never been my way in. Perhaps next time ...

Dove Dale and Tissington Trail

Friday 29th May 2020

For this walk in the Peak District at the end of May I parked at the site of Thorpe railway station on the Tissington Trail, which runs along the course of the old railway line between Buxton and Ashbourne. I was initially inspired by a walk that I did about eighteen years ago and followed that route south along the Tissington Trail for a short distance before taking a footpath that climbs into the village of Thorpe. Leaving the village I was confronted by the highly distinctive hill of Thorpe Cloud and I couldn’t resist climbing the steep, craggy slopes to the short summit ridge that runs along the top where I had great views up Dove Dale from the far side. However, the views at my feet were less pleasant as the top was covered in litter and I felt compelled to get a bag out of my pocket and start filling it. I was also surprised to see that there are now many signs around Thorpe Cloud saying that many of the paths that I had previously taken from the river up the hill were now closed to prevent erosion and rockfall. The signs recommend following blue marker posts, but I could not see any from the summit although there were blue posts on the route I had taken up, so I think the National Trust want everyone to climb and descend Thorpe Cloud from the same direction, which is on the far side from the river.

Coming back down I had to make my way along Lin Dale, collecting litter as I went, to get to the iconic stepping stones over the River Dove, but I didn’t cross the river at that point and instead followed the riverside until I reached a footbridge on the other side of Thorpe Cloud. After depositing the rubbish that I had collected in the bins at the car park I decided that I would not walk up Dovedale as the valley was very busy, so to keep away from other people I headed up a steep path from near the bridge that climbs steeply up the hill opposite Thorpe Cloud. This path is signpost as heading to the village of Ilam and follows the edge of the access land, but I was more interested in climbing to the top of the hill. When the path reached its highest point I came off and attempted to climb the steep hillside, though with little success. I remember trying to come down this hill, in 2007, with a lot of difficulty and it was no easier in ascent. Occasionally slender paths appeared that may actually have been sheep trods and these eased my way but refused to keep climbing so I had to abandon them, at one point using a loose scree slope, until eventually I managed to crawl up to the top of the ridge.

My reward for reaching the top of the ridge was a Tesco shopping bag full of empty beer cans, which I picked up and from there proceeded to follow the lovely, craggy ridge towards the top of Bunster Hill. On reaching the edge of the wood that lines Dove Dale I noted a stile across the fence into the wood and followed the narrow path beyond to the tumulus that marks the highest point on Bunster Hill. I thought this slender path through the woodland vegetation might be an interesting route to follow and at first it was fun but eventually I came across a new fence that now blocks the route that I was following and although I tried to keep to the woodland side of the fence the terrain became increasingly steep and treacherous. Eventually I climbed over the fence and almost immediately I found a clear footpath that must be the right-of-way into Dove Dale. I had followed this path in 2007, in the opposite direction, and this now gave me a clear route above Dovedale Wood before plunging steeply through the woodland to eventually arrive beside the River Dove not far from Ilam Rock. Turning left I followed a clear path to reach the turning up Hall Dale, but I kept on going beside the River Dove on a narrow path that is very difficult to follow, which just made it more fun to walk along and meant there was no one else on the path.

The tricky path eventually improved with stunning views along the valley before steeply descending into the tiny hamlet of Milldale where I was finally able to put the bag of beer cans that I had collected into a bin. Continuing north I was astonished at how late in the day it was as it hadn’t felt like a lot of time had passed, but maybe picking up litter on Thorpe Cloud and the narrow, tricky footpaths delayed me, so it was now about one o’clock and I had to start thinking about turning around soon to head back. I remembered that on my walk eighteen years ago I had left Dove Dale at Coldeaton Bridge, so likewise I now followed the river up the gorgeous valley until I reached the footbridge where I took the narrow branching valley that gradually climbs out of Dove Dale until I reached a path that crosses Bradbury’s Bank and brought me onto the Tissington Trail. The weather on the previous walk, eighteen years ago, had not been great (it was February), but now it was hot with gorgeous blue skies as I was slowly made my way along the old railway line back to the site of Thorpe railway station. This was a curious walk that often followed narrow, tricky paths to the west of the River Dove keeping away from the crowds in the popular valley and ended with a gentle, relaxing stroll along the Tissington Trail.

Tryfan from Y Garn

The highly distinctive rocky, ridge-backed mountain of Tryfan is seen from the path coming down from Y Garn on the far side of Cwm Idwal. The north ridge can clearly be seen rising from the A5 on the banks of Llyn Ogwen and is an unrelenting climb to the top. The summit is adorned with a pair of three metre high stone blocks and those who can successfully step from one to the other are said to gain the Freedom of Tryfan. In calm dry weather this is not too hard, but the exposure at three thousand feet high is immense.

The Newlands Valley from Robinson

The Newlands Valley is seen from the descent of Robinson in the Lake District under perfect blue skies. Pictures such as this, taken during a sensational week at Easter 2011, remind me of how much I love the Lake District. There is nowhere else with such a stunning range of hills perfectly suited to ordinary walking and complete with a maze of excellent footpaths that make that walking such a pleasure.

Y Garn from Tryfan

Y Garn in Snowdonia is seen from the unrelenting climb up the North ridge of Tryfan during my climb in 2019. Almost all mountains in Britain have a gentle slope that even mere mortals such as us can walk up and don't require rock climbing skills. However, there are exceptions and in Snowdonia that is Tryfan, a rocky mountain whose sides are tough and steep requiring a rock climb in almost every direction. The exception, over the ridge, still requires a tough scramble that is as much an exercise in route selection as rock climbing.

The west ridge of Hopegill Head

This is the view along the ridge from Hopegill Head to Whiteside and beyond to the West Cumbria countryside and the Irish Sea. For this walk, in 2013, I drove four hours to the North Western Fells in the Lake District and climbed the almost impregnable west face of Grasmoor that Wainwright described as "probably less difficult than the North Wall of the Eiger". After doing that I realised I hadn't told anyone where I was going. No one knew I was in the Lake District. Fortunately I survived and took this picture before descending from the end of the ridge only to then have to drive four hours back home.

A frosty view from Blencathra

This was a frosty day at the top of Blencathra in the Lake District and the views were stunning. It was one of those days when you just stand in awe of your surroundings and count yourself lucky to be there. The walk is described in this blog entry.

Carl Wark from Higger Tor

This picture shows why Sheffield is the greatest city on Earth. It was taken from Higger Tor looking towards the rocky promontory of Carl Wark in the distance, and both are within the boundary of Sheffield. They are also, of course, in the Peak District and there are many millstone grit outcrops such as these on the eastern edge, which shows there is more to the Peak District than dales.

Chee Dale and Miller’s Dale

Wednesday 27th May 2020

Instead of a walking holiday in distant places last May I was taking trips into the nearby Peak District every day and returning home at the end, which was at least enabling me to get some good walking in despite the situation. I was returning to areas that I have walked many times before since I was a child, although some of the areas I may not have visited so recently and I was enjoying the reacquaintance. Returning to Monsal Dale I parked at the small Upperdale car park and set off onto the Monsal Trail, which follows the course of the old railway line between Matlock and Buxton which is arguably the most spectacular section of railway ever constructed in Britain. I didn’t stay on the track for long but took a path that descends back down to the river passing under the iconic Headstone Viaduct into the beautiful meadow of Monsal Dale. On previous visits this meadow has been covered in cowslip, and though it was a bit late in the season for cowslip there were still many wild flowers and I had a lovely, peaceful walk through the woodland at the bottom of the valley.

On reaching the A6 road I crossed into White Lodge car park where I noticed the toilets were closed as is the norm at this time, but a bit difficult if you need to go! Heading uphill I veered right into a steeply rising wooded dale climbing towards Taddington Field along a beautiful path. This walk was inspired by one that I had done many years ago, so long ago I’m not sure when, and on that occasion I assume I passed through the village of Taddington, but now I was motivated to avoid human contact as much as possible, so I contrived a route along the paths to the south of the village. The highlight of these paths was a small patch of early purple orchids that I discovered just before reaching the western end of the village where I headed up the hill of Sough Top which is adorned with a transmitter and a reservoir. Continuing west I followed a fence beside arable fields heading in a straight line tediously across Taddington Moor until just before reaching the village of Chelmorton the path enters a strip of undeveloped land that increased the interest slightly before plunging steeply into the village.

I didn’t stay in Chelmorton for long before taking a path that continues the westerly heading across a busy road to take a path north to the edge of a wood where I stopped to have my lunch in the bright sunshine. After eating I entered the wood and was astonished to find myself at the top of a sheer drop, but where the path takes a cunning route that zigzags down the cliff-face and reminded me of a path off mountains, and I loved it. This is Churn Hole and I had never taken this route before having previously continued west into Deep Dale whose path has now been closed because of works associated with the nearby Topley Pike Quarry, but the route I now took avoided all such problems and brought me down to the top end of Deep Dale soon emerging onto the A6 road near the Wye Dale car park. This is near the western end of the Monsal Trail and as I made my way along a wide track through the wooded Wye Dale I passed swathes of wild garlic that decorated the valley bottom and added a gorgeous scent to the air.

At Blackwell Mill the Monsal Trail begins, but I ignored this in favour of the riverside path that a sign warned me is dangerous, which just motivated to head on into Chee Dale. A gorgeously narrow path keeps to the side of the river as the valley passes through a spectacular ravine that is one of my favourite places in the Peak District. Unfortunately it is not designed for the current situation and was also very popular which made social distancing very difficult especially past the people picnicking in the narrow valley. There were many natural delights as I continued along the valley meandering around Chee Tor past places where the ravine is so narrow the path has to use stepping stones on the river’s edge which I remember delighted me as a child and still excites me now many years later. Eventually after passing under the railway line once again the path widens and the scenery through the wooded valley became more peaceful and less dramatic.

When I reached the road into Miller’s Dale I decided that I would not repeat previous visits when I walked along the road through Miller’s Dale but climbed up to the popular railway station on the Monsal Trail passing over the high viaduct and along the old railway line until I reached a footpath that steeply descends to Litton Mill. I now had a spectacular walk through the tranquil wooded vale of Miller’s Dale where I have walked many times since I was a child and brings back many happy memories. When I reached Cressbrook Mill I climbed back up to the Monsal Trail to walk for a short distance to the point where I had joined the trail at the start of this walk, a short distance from my car. The weather was very hot on this walk which is very draining but I was walking on some spectacular footpaths that must be amongst the best in the country and are certainly one of my favourites, but are unfortunately not really designed for a pandemic. 

The River Nent

This picture shows the River Nent in the North Pennines under gorgeous blue skies. Easter last year I walked part of the Pennine Way starting from the small market town of Alston, but I didn't get there until 1 p.m., so I thought I'd do a short walk in the area before starting the Pennine Way the next day. I had discovered a walk that is described as one of the best walks in Cumbria, and since that includes the whole of the Lake District I was intrigued. This picture was taken during that short walk up the Nent valley.

Haystacks and Fleetwith Pike from Buttermere

This picture shows Haystacks and Fleetwith Pike taken from the shore of Buttermere at the end of a long walk in 2006 while rushing to the youth hostel, but I still stopped to take this picture in the setting sun.

The Mamores from Mullach nan Coirean

The Mamores range of mountains near Ben Nevis can be seen in this picture in all its glory from the westernmost Munro of Mullach nan Coirean. Ever since my first visit in 2005 I have loved these mountains and returned many times since, but on this visit, in 2012, the weather was at its best. The white quartzite stones at the top of Sgurr a' Mhaim attract the eye and the narrow ridge that leads to it sparks interest through its name: the Devil's Ridge.

Crinkle Crags

This is the view from the top of Crinkle Crags in the Lake District, which must be one of the best in the Lakeland Fells. It is comprised of five peaks or crinkles, but it is the climb up to the highest from the south that is the most memorable. A ten foot climb up a near vertical rock wall is known as 'The Bad Step' and has been described as "the most difficult obstacle met on any of the regular walkers' paths in Lakeland". Despite that, every time I have been up the Crinkle Crags I have tackled the Bad Step, except when I took this picture in 2012. There is a bypassing path and I wanted to see what I was missing out on, and it's not bad, but nowhere near as thrilling as the Bad Step.

The Black Mountain

This picture shows the northern edge of the Black Mountain in the Brecon Beacons and was taken in 2019. Twenty years ago I was coming to the Brecon Beacons often for walking and it was really where I started my walking career. I remember going up the Black Mountain for the first time in 2002 in poor weather as a deliberate practice of my navigation skills, and I successfully got back to my car. I had graduated from the Brecon Beacons School of Walking and was ready to tackle the Lake District.

Wasdale Head and Wastwater from Great Gable

This picture is from the scree-filled, western slopes of Great Gable looking across Wasdale Head towards Wastwater. I took this while on the South Traverse in 2006 as I made my way to the foot of White Napes, which I climbed all the way up to the top of Great Gable.

Lathkill Dale

Tuesday 26th May 2020

For my next walk in the Peak District at the end of May I parked in the Moor Lane car park near Youlgrave, which was where I’d parked twenty-two years ago and I proceeded to do almost exactly the same walk that I did then during my first ever walking holiday. I set off from the car park along the Limestone Way across a couple of fields and past Calling Low before descending steeply into Cales Dale. I could see Lathkill Dale to the north teasing me with the many delights to come including Limestone crags that looked really inviting but I was putting off that pleasure for a while. After descending steeply into Cales Dale I climbed steeply out of Cales Dale on a fabulous, rocky, little path that brought me to One Ash Grange Farm and on the other side of the farm is a sign that directs a path towards Lathkill Dale. This is the route that I have taken on previous visits, but on this occasion I kept on the Limestone Way until I reached the top of Fern Dale where I turned onto a path that is now marked on Ordnance Survey maps as being permissive through the shallow valley to the top of Lathkill Dale. Small limestone outcrops line the short valley and provided me with a foretaste of what was to come.

Turning right into Lathkill Dale the pleasures started immediately as I remembered the last time I was in this valley, in March 2017. The valley at this point is so narrow and sheltered there was still ice then at the bottom, which was not a problem now as I made my way along the fabulously rocky path between narrow limestone cliffs through the tremendous ravine. Soon the valley opened out, but the wonders continued as I made my way to the cave where the River Lathkill emerges from its subterranean adventures, though after two months of almost no rain the river was dry. In 2017 the river had been overflowing but not so now and I remembered pictures that I had taken then of the valley at this point and tried to take a similar picture from the same point to contrast the changing conditions of what had once been a broad, flowing river but was now an overgrown, dry valley floor. Eventually a trickle of water started to appear until by the time I reached the turning into Cales Dale there was a proper river passing under the footbridge that leads into the valley.

As trees became more plentiful the path became easier to walk upon and it was a pleasure to stroll along this beautiful valley that is overflowing with wild flowers. It was really relaxing to slowly meander down the path soaking in the stunning, natural surroundings of this gorgeous valley until eventually the terrain opens out to become, to me, less appealing as the river passes over a series of weirs. Many people were taking the opportunity of the broad, grass banks to enjoy the sunshine while I kept my distance staying on the path and continuing downstream until I reached Conksbury Bridge. Across the bridge and up the road a short distance I continued along the footpath, though soon stopped to have my lunch sitting well clear of the path and looking out over the stunning scenery across the valley. Resuming my walk along the bottom of the valley I eventually reached Alport where I finally left the River Lathkill and entered the valley of the River Bradford. This valley is very different in character to Lathkill Dale without the extravagant wilderness that is the crowning glory of Lathkill. The path through the valley initially crosses the river several times and I had to keep consulting the map to check which way I needed to go to maintain the walk.

Eventually the terrain becomes more wild and wooded as the river passes over a series of weirs until all too soon I came to a bridge that marked my exit from the valley. If there is a fatal flaw with this walk it is that it starts and ends at the highest point so I now had to climb steeply out of the valley. Ideally one should always start a circular walk from the lowest point so you are not climbing at the end of a tiring day; however the effort was very rewarding as I was ascending through some stunning woodland scenery along a fabulous old path. On reaching a road I turned right and after passing Lomberdale Hall resumed the ascent through a field full of wild flowers, most notably early purple orchids, until eventually I reached the car park. Another problem with this walk is that it is too short as I reached the car before two o’clock, but it had still been a very satisfying walk and the high temperatures meant I was more than happy to stop before it got too hot.

Brothers Water from Middle Dodd

This picture shows Brothers Water taken from the descent of Middle Dodd in the Lake District. The walk, in 2018, started with a climb up Helvellyn, but I didn't stop there and headed south to Grisedale Tarn. From there I went up Fairfield, Hart Crag and Dove Crag, but I still wasn't done. I descended the grassy eastern slopes to the Scandale Pass before climbing up to the top of Red Screes. Finally I had enough and came down into the valley over Middle Dodd taking this picture on the way. This was another glorious day in the Lake District.