Lathkill Dale

Saturday 25th March 2017

Once a week, I write this blog describing a walk that I have done recently during my holidays, however since these holidays are all concentrated in the spring and summer by the time I’m getting towards the end of the year I don’t have any walks left to put on the blog. Fortunately my holidays are not the only walking that I do as a bit of good weather on a Saturday is all the incentive I need to grab my rucksack and head out for a walk. At the start of spring this year just such conditions brought me out to a small car park in the Peak District beside the High Peak Trail, which is a trail that follows the course of the old Cromford and High Peak Railway. Heading north and passing the Friden brickworks I was striding confidently and briskly along the track eating up the miles. It was great to be walking in the Peak District again and after the long winter finally be able to really stretch my legs again with the great Peak District views before me of rolling hills, dry stone walls and blue skies. The sun was shining brightly even though at this early hour it was still rather cold. Just after passing the site of Hurdlow station I finally came off the old railway line and headed across a couple of fields, over the Buxton Road and along the Hutmoor Butts track towards the village of Monyash.

Passing just to the north of the village I entered Bagshaw Dale at the western tip of Lathkill Dale. I have walked through Lathkill Dale many times going back many years and it has held special memories for me over all those years. I felt that I hadn’t been through Lathkill Dale for quite a while so I was eager to renew my acquaintance with this extra special valley by walking the entire length from start to finish. I don’t think I’ve ever done the western tip before as I usually turn off before reaching the end, which is a shame as it is an amazing place. The limestone walls close in spectacularly, which this early in the year created a dark and very cold environment with ice in amongst the boulders that littered the bottom of the valley. There was an eerie and claustrophobic feeling between the narrow rocks walls, but the valley soon opened up again though still with a rough, rocky surface underfoot as I slowly made my way down the valley until I eventually reached the point where the river comes out of the rock face on the side of the valley.

At this time of the year the water was overflowing the sides and flooding the bottom of the valley pouring over the grassy floor and often encroaching onto the footpath, but I did not find this much of a problem for me. Celandines decorated the grasslands adding a delightful sparkle to the surroundings that are dominated by limestone. On reaching the junction with Cales Dale the number of people increased significantly and taking advantage of this attractive location I stopped to have my lunch. The scenery was breathtakingly beautiful in the sunny weather and brought to mind many previous visits to this location since I was a child. Beyond this point the valley plunges into woodland and the path improves so that I was now able to simply enjoy the surroundings under leafless trees and with many delicious wild flowers at my feet. I had a wonderful walk through the woods at the bottom of this spectacular narrow valley beside crystal clear waters in lovely sunshine. Many other people were also walking through the valley and justifiably so as Lathkill Dale is one of the best limestone valleys in the country.

After passing the Over Haddon road the valley opens out with a series of weirs created to aid with fishing and there were many people to be seen engaged in this activity. My walking was now even more sedate as the river slowly turns to the south until it reaches Conskbury Bridge where the delights sadly end. The valley has now broadened with relatively gentle gradients on the western slopes of the river and this is where the footpath now passes until it reaches the road at Alport. Now I turned away from the River Lathkill and changed my plans as my progress through Lathkill Dale had been so slow I didn’t have time for my planned, though possibly overoptimistic, excursion onto Stanton Moor. Whenever I have done a walk through Lathkill Dale in the past I have almost always also included a walk through the neighbouring smaller valley of Bradford Dale and I could not resist the temptation to once again pass through this stunning valley that is enclosed by trees with several old weirs along its length that add to the beauty of the surroundings.

Turning off the main path at the western end of the valley I followed the stream through open farmland and into a narrow wooded ravine, signposted as Rusden Wood, which was covered in celandines and wood anemones with the slender stream winding a course through the idyllic scene. This was a gorgeous, spellbinding place, but I didn’t know how I had got there, even though it was totally enthralling. I had been trying to head towards the end of Gratton Dale, but eventually I realised that I had turned west when I had intended on going east and so I was now nowhere near Dale End. Rather than going out of my way to head towards Gratton Dale I decided to leave that valley for another day and took a track over Gratton Moor and down into Long Dale not far from my car. The weather by this time was really warm and it had been sunny all day which made for excellent conditions to walk and I had made the most of them with an excellent walk in the fabulous Peak District.

Eriskay, Barra and Vatersay

Wednesday 30th and Thursday 31st August 2017

I woke at the start of this day, on the Isle of Eriskay, to blue skies, but it wasn’t long before it started to rain and so once again I had to pack up a wet tent. Therefore I was in full waterproofs when I walked from the end of the causeway into the town, Am Baile, on Eriskay, past the Am Politician Inn, named after the ship that wrecked just off this island laden with whisky galore, and onto Coilleag a’ Phrionnsa, the Prince’s Strand, where Bonnie Prince Charlie first set foot on British soil. By the time I reached this small beach the rain had stopped and the sun had come out affording me with glorious views across the sea that reminded me of the excellent weather I had enjoyed when I was last on Eriskay two years ago. That day I had spent all afternoon on the island, but this time I didn’t linger and instead I caught the ferry across to Barra while several rain showers passed overhead. One last shower came and went while I walked along the road from the ferry terminal to Barra Airport, which is actually just a beach: the only airfield where scheduled flights use a beach as the runway. There was a plane waiting to take off so I deliberately hung around to see it do so, while looking for the route of the Hebridean Way.

This was nowhere to be seen and to add to my annoyance I did not have the GPS waypoints for this section. For the rest of the trail I had used waypoints gathered from the visitouterhebrides.co.uk website, but I was lacking this point. I picked what I thought was the best place to start and, soon after, the tiny aeroplane taxied along the beach to the water’s edge, turned around to head into the wind and was soon in the air on its way to Glasgow. I turned around and continued to climb the boggy hillside where I was soon rewarded by the sight of a Hebridean Way signpost that directed me over the hill, around the eastern slopes of Beinn Eireabhal and down the other side. These posts were relatively clear, nicely spaced apart and with a faint path in between that took me along an interesting route in the improving weather and with great views over the hills of Barra I was happy to be walking amongst hills again. This was an enjoyable walk that was reminiscent of walks in the Lake District, so I felt it was a pity that elsewhere on the Hebridean Way, except for in Harris, there isn’t more scenery like this. I was enjoying the good weather as I crossed a road and followed a muddy track past Loch an Dùin and Loch na Cartach before coming off the track to head uphill.

The posts took me up grassy slopes until I came to the top of the pass between Beinn Bhirisig and Grianan where I had walked two years ago heading north. Now I went through the pass and turned south onto a well-constructed path that kept to the western edge of Grianan. This path was severely eroded by heavy rain and required some precarious footwork from me to negotiate the severe damage to the Hebridean Way. Eventually the problems all passed and the path slowly descended into the valley of Borve where I joined a track that took me to the main road near the west coast of Barra. A walk along this road beside the stunning coastline brought me to the beautiful beach of Bàgh Halamain where a signposted path took me up onto a craggy landscape decorated with magnificently crafted cairns. I don’t know the reason for these cairns, but the posts took me past them and eventually led me to the site of an ancient fort, Dùn Bàn, though just before reaching it a Hebridean Way signpost directed me away from the fort and up the steep hillside inland. With hindsight I should have camped at that point near to the fort, but instead I started the steep climb that soon wore me out and prompted me to stop as soon as the terrain levelled slightly where I made camp.

The weather during the evening was stunning with amazing views out to sea, as I had enjoyed for most of the day on the fabulous islands of Eriskay and Barra, and I had really enjoyed the hill walking. The following morning I had a tortuous time as midges plagued me under overcast skies with no wind while I broke camp and throughout my climb up, so that I was relieved when I finally reached the top of the pass and blessedly got some fresh air. I had now reached the highest point on the whole Hebridean Way and a faint path linked by the familiar posts took me steeply down saturated ground all the way to the sea. The road at the bottom of the path took me over the causeway onto the final island of my Hebridean trek, Vatersay, and a frustratingly prolonged walk along this road brought me to the Vatersay village hall where the Hebridean Way ends at a metal memorial. It is a pity that the Hebridean Way could not come up with a better way to end, or more usually start the trail, as I had tried to do two years ago when I did my own Hebridean walk.

From the end of the Hebridean Way I started the Vatersay Circular Walk that I did two years ago, then as a prelude to my trek, but now as a sort of victory lap. From the west beach, poorly sighted posts took me over an ancient fort and through tricky terrain until I reached the delightful south beach. Two years ago I had tried to reach the southernmost point on the island, but I did no such silliness this time and after a quiet lunch on the tranquil beach I made my way through the Vatersay township, along the stunning east beach and back to the start (or finish as in my case) of the Hebridean Way. Slowly I made my way along the road all the way onto Barra until finally I reached Castlebay where a ferry the following morning would take me back to the mainland. I found the Hebridean Way surprisingly physically demanding which had left me with aches from head to toe after gaining loads of insect bites and blisters, and with a rucksack that never seemed to be comfortable. I had expected well-made footpaths, so I was frustrated to discover long sections of the Hebridean Way has no path whatsoever and West Harris was the worst offender.

It takes a lot more effort when there is no path and you are wading through knee deep heather on unstable ground. However I’m sure that the Hebridean Way will mature into a very good trail once everything is bedded in and established with clear paths beaten underfoot, but until then it is a strenuous trail that will try the stamina of any walker who attempts it. I was unfortunate to do the trail just as it received tremendous amounts of rain and to be wild camping in midge-loving weather. At a drier and colder time of the year I may have found the Hebridean Way easier, and especially if I had done the walk in the opposite direction with the prevailing wind behind me.