A Circular Walk from Peak Forest to Castleton

As I type this opening paragraph, the sun is streaming through the window, the skies are the most beautiful shade of blue and I'm being informed on a regular basis by Facebook and Twitter users alike that today is the vernal equinox. It certainly didn't feel like the first day of spring was only hours away when I ventured out on a walk above the Hope Valley yesterday. It's true that Mam Tor did stand resplendently green in the sunshine above Castleton - but that was because the unrelenting and bitter wind of the past few days had blown all the snow off its exposed slopes and not because of a seasonal thaw.

The wind's handiwork was apparent as I set off up a farm lane from Peak Forest, where huge drifts of powdery snow had formed along the wall. The pristine white whorls and curves and cornices in miniature were fascinating to look at, almost like works of art, and these were the first of many I was to encounter that day.

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Here Be Dragons: Chrome Hill and Parkhouse Hill

"Chattering Charteris"

Sadly none of the Ordnance Survey maps for the upper Dove Valley bear the legend "Hic sunt dracones" but you could be forgiven for thinking you've stumbled across a pair of sleeping dragons when you first see the distinctive knobbly ridges of Chrome Hill and its companion, Parkhouse Hill, in the distance. These hills nestle in the shadow of Axe Edge Moor, just south of Buxton, and while they might be relatively small prominences compared to the moorland heights of the Dark Peak, they still provide challenges of their own to the walker, with narrow summit paths and steep sides you certainly wouldn't want to take a tumble down. Parkhouse Hill in particular, whichever end you approach it from, has precipitous slopes that test both your knees and your balance.

Our walk started from the small village of Earl Sterndale, most notable for its curiously-named pub, The Quiet Woman. The unfortunate woman in question (who appears on the pub sign, minus her head but still admirably devoted to her job) was allegedly the overly-talkative wife of a former innkeeper, "Chattering" Charteris. When she took to nagging him in her sleep as well as their waking hours, he lopped off her head. The story doesn't say what happened to the innkeeper in the end but in the short term the villagers had a whip round to help him buy a headstone for his wife's grave -  an uplifting story of how small communities can pull together in times of unexpected financial need from one perspective, I suppose, though I doubt poor Chattering Charteris would have seen it that way.

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Burbage Rocks and Stanage Edge

Or, "How Poor Decision Making and Stubbornness Deprived Me of My Beer and Made Me Late for Dinner."

The Dark Peak is famous for its huge grit stone edges, draws for walkers and climbers alike, but few are quite as impressive as Stanage Edge: viewed from its southern end near Upper Burbage Bridge, the six kilometre sweep of millstone grit undulates before you like a breaking wave, permanently suspended above the Hope Valley. From the 458 metre vantage point of High Neb, Win Hill and the peaks of the Great Ridge seem diminished, while the vista over towards Eyam Moor is a gently rolling, pastoral affair; only the dark bulk of the Kinder Plateau beyond them feels like it can match this iconic escarpment in might.

My walk was to take in Stanage Edge as its climax but I also wanted to explore Burbage Rocks first, another escarpment that runs south in the form of a broken crescent, from Upper Burbage Bridge to the Longshaw Estate. 

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Thor's Cave and Ecton Hill

Thor's Cave above the Manifold Valley has long been on my list of places to visit and at the end of June we drove out late one Sunday afternoon to explore this area of the White Peak. Along the lower reaches of the valley itself runs the Manifold Way, from Hulme End to Waterhouses: this was once the route of the relatively short-lived Leek and Manifold Valley Light Railway (L&MVLR), which maintained a economically-precarious existence from 1904 to 1934 before finally giving up the ghost. The Wiki entry on the Manifold Way mentions a wag among the railway workers on the line describing it as a "line that started in the middle of nowhere, and ended up in the same place", and his quip succinctly explains its demise.

Our walk started at the northern end of the trail at Hulme End. The station at the head of the railway line once stood here and  there is a pay-and-display car park, public toilets and a visitor centre. It was fairly late in the afternoon when we started out but the weather was glorious and the sunset wasn't due until after 9.30 so we relished the thought of a walk into the early evening. As we followed the tarmac path (the trail has good accessibility for pushchairs and wheelchairs though occasionally shares a route with motor traffic), Ecton Hill appeared to our left. I'd mentioned to Rich that there was a hill at the end of the route but when it suddenly loomed into view I prudently decided to keep quiet for now that this was it.

Ecton Hill

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