Shelf Moor (l) and Coldharbour Moor (r) in the distance. |
Lightside - the path followed the wall uphill. |
It was relief to finally reach solid ground as I crossed another stile onto the upper slopes of Lightside. There are no paths showing on the OS map here but the way ahead was clear to see. It's a short pull up from the stile to the top of Lightside and, once I crossed a further fence there, I was on moorland proper. Heather stretched out across the hillside around me and the muddy path looked peatier and darker in hue. It was almost as though the flimsy fence formed a barrier to the moorland weather too, because it felt like I was assailed by a freezing wind the instant I climbed down on the other side of it. This icy blast was to be a near constant companion until I disappeared into the relative shelter of Bleaklow's groughs later that day.
The change to moorland. |
Looking over the wooded Shire Hill towards Hayfield - to the left of Shire Hill, Snake Pass begins its winding journey over the Pennines. |
Looking back along Yellow Slacks. |
The moorland began to rise up to my left here with large rocks littering its sides and I took advantage of having something dry and solid to sit on to put on another pair of socks. It was the first time I'd worn my heavier boots since the end of last winter and I'd forgotten that they were a looser fit, so my feet were moving around uncomfortably inside them. Fortunately, I always carry a couple of spare pairs of socks in my backpack so I added an extra layer to my feet and I was soon snug and toasty again.
The landscape as I approached Dowstone Clough was rugged now, classic Dark Peak territory with its exposed gritstone and the dramatic cliffs of Shelf Benches looked particularly impressive - and worth exploring on a future walk. Beyond Coldharbour Moor, to the south east, the sun weakly tried to break through the prevailing cloud cover, though for now it managed to be only a smear of pale light in the sheet of grey overhead
Dowstone Clough (l) and Shelf Benches (r). |
The head of the clough - the path follows the ridge around. |
Exposed gritstone on the flank of Dowstone Clough. |
When I reached the head of the clough the peat hags were notably larger in size and walking soon became a more conscious process with each step considered and sometimes tested before putting my full weight down.
Looking down Dowstone Clough. |
Curiously, given the amount of rain we've had recently, the rock bed of Yellowslacks Brook was quite dry in places up here - certainly drier than much of the path I was walking! - and I clambered down into it to look along its course.
Crossing Shelf Moor |
Ahead of me at one point I could see something white against one of the hags and I wondered if it was something do with the moorland restoration. It looked much smaller than the usual bags of seed and moss that you sometimes find dotted around. I was heading towards it when it suddenly leapt down and ran off along one of the channels in the peat. Cursing at not being more observant, I realised I'd encountered a mountain hare in its winter coat, something I'd never yet seen in all the times I'd been walking in the uplands. I thought I'd missed the opportunity to observe it properly but, as I followed the grough around, I saw it again about 30 feet away. To say I was happy is an understatement. This time I froze on the spot and raised my camera as slowly as I could and managed to get a couple of decent pictures It was a magical encounter for me and really made my day.
Mountain hare. |
The Higher Shelf Stone finally come into sight. |
The Higher Shelf Stones. |
The Lower Shelf Stones (r). |
Graffiti carved into the Higher Shelf Stones. |
Looking south across Coldharbour Moor, with Kinder on the horizon. |
Just to the north east of the trig point is one of several plane crash sites on Bleaklow, and probably the most famous one, the Boeing B29 Superfortress. I'd never been here before and climbed to the top of a hag to take a look. It's a sobering and poignant experience looking down at the wreckage, so much of it and strewn over such a large area. There is apparently a memorial to the young servicemen who tragically died here but I didn't really feel like going down into the grough to wander around the remains of the aircraft and so I mentally paid my respects where I stood.
Dead ahead - my planned route to meet the Pennine Way. |
Eventually I decided it would be a waste of effort to climb up the side of Bleaklow without paying a visit to the plateau itself. I had enough time to get across to Bleaklow Head on the Pennine Way and descend to Hadfield, where I could pick up my return train journey to Manchester. Now all I needed to do was get to the Pennine Way.
From the vantage point of the Shelf Stones I could see a clear cut in the moor beyond Crooked Clough that seemed to run in pretty much a straight line to the east. I figured it would be useful handrail to follow to get me to the trail. There was a semblance of a path meandering across the moorland here, presumably from people crossing from the Pennine Way to see the plane wreckage or visit the trig column, and I followed this downhill towards Crooked Clough. It followed a streamlet that fed into the clough and sometimes only the stream itself stood out from the grass around; every now and then, however, a boot print reassured me that the course I'd plotted wasn't entirely virgin territory. And, indeed, when it came time to cross Crooked Clough and carry on beyond it, the trail became readily identifiable. Soft, deep peat was the order of the day here and I sank above my ankle on several occasions, retrieving my lower limbs with a satisfying squelch but a worrying tug on my boot from below.
Typical Bleaklow terrain at Alport Low. |
Looking down Crooked Clough. |
Looking back along the "path" to the summit of Shelf Moor. |
The Grinah Stones? |
Contrary to Bleaklow's fearsome reputation, this section became a pleasant stroll that enabled me to make up some more time. The sides of the groughs weren't yet so high that I couldn't see above them so I also got expansive views across the plateau, including one across to some intriguing-looking rocks in to the north east. Looking at the map, I hazarded a guess that these were the Grinah Stones but I'm not sure.
Hern Clough |
As I carried on north east along the Pennine Way the sides of the groughs began to tower over me and I could understand how people become disorientated in poor weather conditions. It was clear here that the recent storms had saturated Bleaklow's blanket of peat - the sound of trickling water formed a constant backdrop to the tread of my feet and the path was flooded at a number of points as I went along. One one occasion I had to climb up the side of a peat hag and edge myself along until the stream was shallow enough to step into. I passed the Hern Stones here, about a hundred yards away or more. I couldn't see any clear path leading off from the Pennine Way, though I'm sure many people head up to them, so I decided to stick to the trail and take a picture from where I was.
Looking south at Kinder on the horizon. |
One of several flooded sections on the Pennine Way. |
The Hern Stones. |
Bleaklow Head |
I took a brief video with my phone from here but truth to tell the views weren't spectacular in the foreground - I find the desolate appearance of the moors quite exhilarating, especially when there's no-one else in sight, but they don't always make for an interesting video or photograph I have to admit. If nothing else, the audio provides a good idea of how windy it was up there that day!
Manchester |
The initial descent from Bleaklow Head wasn't particularly engaging, the path often-flooded and muddy, the terrain around me somehow duller and more ragged-looking than the hags and groughs I'd bog-hopped earlier. The moors on the other side of Longdendale were glowing in the sunlight and looked far more inviting, at least with the benefit of distance.
Sunlight favouring the northern side of Longdendale. |
Crossing the ford where Wildboar Grain flows into the clough |
Following the Pennine Way along Clough Edge. |
Looking over the edge. |
Torside Reservoir below, where I was to join the Longdendale Trail. |
Below me, the stream fed by Torside Grain and Wildboar Grain (plus any number of smaller, unnamed rills) tumbled down to Torside Reservoir; the sides of the clough twisted and turned in a manner you get no sense of from the trail below and along them, where Bleaklow had shrugged off its peaty coat, massive outcrops of gritstone formed cliffs and those familiar weathered sculptures that make the Dark Peak so interesting to walk.
A watchful hippo. |
The hippo outline my mind saw. |
One particular outcrop below reminded me of a giant hippopotamus overlooking the gorge (no, I hadn't picked and eaten any mushrooms on my travels) though when I pointed it out to Rich back in Manchester later, he only "saw" it after I'd traced an outline with my finger.
Date: December 2015
Walk length: 21 km
Total ascent: 776 metres
I suppose your imagination runs wild whilst up there in them hills. I wouldn't have seen the hippo without you drawing it š
ReplyDeleteThe stone around the Dark Peak forms all sorts of weird and wonderful shapes so it's a bit like cloud-watching - everyone sees different things in their outlines. :-)
ReplyDelete