An October outing up two Wainwrights which I’ve never climbed before. Not sure how I’ve managed to avoid them. Anyway, my mistake: they were well worth a visit. In the photo above, you can see that there’s a lot of steep stuff on Eagle Crag and it’s not immediately obvious how you’ll get up there, but fortunately it’s all plain sailing; the path winds round to the left of the first knoll, Bleak How, and then finds a passage through the remaining complexities.
Fungi.
Having said that, after the initial easy plod along Stonethwaite Beck and then a boggy bit of field, I turned away from the valley path either too late or too early and then found myself fighting spiky, crumpled bracken uphill, but eventually managed to reach a sketchy path by the wall which then lead me around the craggy parts of Bleak How and on to the ridge.
Long Band on Coldbarrow Fell.
This stream, unnamed on the OS map, has carved quite an impressive looking amphitheatre below Long Band on the opposite fellside and I filed away the idea of having a gander there on a future walk.
My ascent route, approaching Eagle Crag..Knotts and Great Crag above Stonethwaite.
It was a fairly grey day, with occasionally the odd drop of moisture in the air and the apparent threat of rain, but none-the-less good walking weather.
A broad ramp.
The route follows a resourceful path which finds first a broad ramp with crags above and below, and then switches back up an easy-angled gully through what might have seemed impenetrable cliffs.
Looking down on Bleak How.Heron Crag and Langstrath.A steepish section.Looking to Sergeant’s Crag
On the last part of the ascent, the path loops drunkenly back and forth following broad ledges separated by short slabby crags. You could probably take a more direct route, but it’s pleasant walking so why bother?
Sergeant’s Crag and Langstrath.Sergeant’s Crag again.
Too many photos of Sergeant’s Crag? I liked the look of it!
The long Glaramara ridge.Looking north to Skiddaw.
On the top, the inevitable cup of tea, a video-call with my Mum and Dad, and a brief conversation with another walker. I saw surprisingly few that day.
Sergeant’s Crag.Again!Looking back to Eagle Crag.Eagle Crag again.Glaramara.
Not much more climbing to attain Sergeant’s Crag and then I took an off-piste route down towards Langstrath, aiming to avoid Bull Crag and Blea Crag and the crags around Lamper Knott. With hindsight, I’m not sure it’s a route I could recommend: there’s a lot of crags and even the grassy parts are liberally sprinkled with boulders and rocks. Still, I enjoyed it immensely.
An off piste descent.Approaching Langstrath Beck.
I wanted to come down this way so that I could have a peek at the renowned Black Moss Pot…
Blackmoss Pot.
There were quite a few wet-suited swimmers nearby, the ones who had just finished swimming advising and encouraging another group who had just arrived. I’ve never swum here myself and it’s on my wish-list, although not for a grey day towards the end of October!
Langstrath Beck.Stonethwaite.Map the first.Around six and a half miles – but there’s a lot packed into that short walk.
Glencoe Folk Museum – housed in thatched eighteenth century crofters cottages.
The Sunday of our Glencoe break was absolutely glorious. Uncle Fester and The Prof elected to stay in the house to watch the golf. I know; they often seem like quite rational types, but clearly some kind of mental instability is suspected.
Impressive looking ridges either side of Fionn Ghleann (I think).
The rest of the party decided to head for the Pap of Glencoe. Since breathing, and moving, more both proving a bit painful for me, I thought I would just settle for a bit of a wander. Initially I followed on up the path heading for the Pap, but with no intention of going all the way up. The views were tremendous.
Looking down to Loch Leven.Those hills again.
After a couple of small, innocuous looking rocky steps, which, since I couldn’t really bend down, I thought I might struggle to descend (I was right), I chose to slowly amble back down.
And again. It’s a very long time since I did Bidean nam Bian (on the left here). Too long.
And then to do a slow circuit of the small lochan above Glencoe.
We have ‘chatty benches’ in Silverdale, but this road-sign takes friendliness to another level. Glencoe Lochan.
It was genuinely warm and I made good use of the many benches stationed around along the path.
Glencoe Lochan.
The were quite a few dragonflies about and I quixotically tried to photograph them using my phone, with no success whatsoever.
Glencoe Lochanand the Pap of Glencoe.Glencoe Lochanand the Pap of Glencoe from a slightly different angle.Beinn a’ Bheithir and Loch Leven.
I finished with a little wander by the loch.
River Coe, Pap of Glencoe, Sgorr nam Fiannaidh and Bidean nam Bian.
And was back in time to see the end of the Ryder Cup. Oh no! Could it be that I have a smidge of ‘mental instability’ too?
Late September. The Tower Captain and I drove* up to Glencoe to join a small party of old muckers who’d already been there most of the week. (*Well, he drove, I took photos out of the window obviously).
On the Saturday, we dragged ourselves away from the drama of the Ryder Cup* and headed around the coast to Glen Creran, parking one car up the valley in the car park near Elleric, before returning to park the other near Druimavuic from where we began our traverse of the longish ridge of Beinn Sgulaird. (*Not as tricky for me as it was for some of the others. I hate golf. Although I do enjoy watching Europe beat the USA)
Looking down to Loch Creran.
Now Beinn Sgulaird was a new Munro to me. Not something that happens very often. I think the last new one I ticked off was Stuchd an Lochain back in 2011. I didn’t think much about that novelty last September, but this evening I dug out my old Munros map/tick-list and have enjoyed looking it over and wondering about some of the other Munros I’ve yet to climb. I’ll never finish them all, which I’m totally happy with, in fact there are many I’ve climbed before that I’m really hankering after revisiting, but it is nice to grab a new one now and again. If I remember right, the reason we’d lit upon Beinn Sgulaird in the first place was that it was one of UF’s remaining four unticked Munros. He’s obviously much more single-minded than me. And braver. I’ve done some summits in the Skye Cuillin, but on the whole I’m content to leave those hills to people with a better head for heights than me. And better balance, come to that.
Meall Garbh from unnamed top at 488m.
We did Stuchd an Lochain mostly in mist. This was another cloudy day, but we had much better views than we did that day.
Looking back to the 488m top.
There was a small, but easy to follow path, and although I never move very quickly, we made steady progress.
Andy on Meall Garbh (I think).
The cloud on the ridge was swirling about and offering partial views, which was very atmospheric.
Misty conditions.A partial clearing.Andy again.The descent from Meall Garbh.Beinn Trilleachan (I think).Pano.The ridge on to Beinn Sgulaird.Looking back to Meall Garbh. (I think).
I don’t seem to have taken a summit photo. I’m not sure why not, but we were in the cloud for a while, either side of the summit.
Descending into Coire nan Tulach.
The Prof was adamant that from the top we should turn-tail and retrace our ascent route, since there had been a good path. He was in a minority of one however. Old, wiser heads prevailed. Well….older anyway.
Stob Gaibhre in the foreground. I presume that’s Beinn Fhionnlaidh beyond. Looks good.
Any trace of a path, faint or otherwise, soon disappeared. Never-the-less, to begin with the descent into Coire nan Tulach was great. It was rough going, yes, but rocky and interesting, with expansive views and a real, remote wild feel to it.
Pretty much the same view again. I like them both!
But the lower we descended, the more tussocky and awkward the going became. We skirted around Stob Gaibhre and then dropped off the ridge down towards Glen Ure.
Beinn Trilleachan. Rocky.
I fell over, which was annoying. Then I fell again, but this time it was more than annoying. It ought to have been an innocuous affair – I pitched forward onto a large tussock – but the impact was on my sternum which was extremely painful and which took me almost a month to recover from. Maybe I cracked a rib. Certainly breathing was uncomfortable for the rest of that day and the one which followed. I’ve always been prone to tumbling now and again, but it seems that these days I don’t bounce like I used to. Maybe the Prof was right about our choice of descent route. Just don’t tell him I admitted that.
Glen Ure.
Fortunately, once we hit the track in Glen Ure the rest of the walk became an easy and very pleasant affair, although I think it did spit with rain a little.
Looking back. An Grianan in the centre. Looks worth investigating.Beinn Fhionnlaidhon the left.The whole ridge:Stob Gaibhre, Beinn Sgulaird, Meall Garbh and point 488m on the right.
Back in the car park, UF, for reasons only he knows, decided to settle an argument with a tree by backing his car into it. I think he lost, although said collision didn’t seem to slow him or his speedy vehicle down any on the drive back around to Glen Coe.
A mostly brilliant day. Some views, a new tick, an interesting gnarly ridge, great company and rounded all off with another fabulous meal at The Laroch in Ballachulish (which is highly recommended).
Map.
MapMyWalk gives a little over 10 miles, and almost exactly 1000m of climbing (which is definitely an underestimate).
What with Harrop Tarn being my new favourite swimming spot, after my visit last June, I was keen to share it with my nearest and dearest, so when A asked about a potential swim when her boyfriend L was visiting, that was the first suggestion which sprang to mind. The small parking area at Stockhow Bridge was already jam-packed when we arrived, but we were lucky to find some roadside parking close to the junction of the currently closed road around the western side of Thirlmere and the main road.
Thirlmere Reservoir.Helvellyn.
It was a beautiful day, quite warm, so the views back across the reservoir to Helvellyn and its satellites gave me frequent welcome excuses to stop for a breather and take photos during the steepish ascent.
The rocky bowl which holds Harrop Tarn.A and L racing each other on the stepping stones.
There’s a bridge across Dob Gill near the outflow from Harrop Tran, but A insisted on a race across the stepping stones. And then again with a headstart. And again with a more generous headstart, but L is a triathlete and clearly very agile, and no amount of leeway was going to get our A across first.
L was ready and into the water before I’d even undone my laces. Then out again even faster. Apparently the water was cold. He wasn’t wrong. I guess triathletes are used to the luxury of a wetsuit. A is undeniably much hardier than I am: she and her friend S (the Tower Captain’s daughter for long-suffering readers) have instigated a new ‘tradition’ of going for an open water swim on S’s birthday. In March! This year that was in a stream up by Alston in the Pennines (it looked lovely, but A was a bit vague about the exact location). Last year it was in High Dam, with snow still sitting on the banks. Brrr. Never-the-less, on this occasion she took her time getting in and didn’t last much longer in the water than L had.
Harrop Tarnpano.
TBH took an absolute age acclimatising herself inch by squealing inch. By the time she was fully immersed I’d almost finished my first circuit of the tarn (like a lot of mammals adapted to cold water I have my own built in insulation). I could see that TBH intended to follow my lead, so I cut a corner and we swam a circuit together. Or almost together – like most people, TBH swims faster than I do.
Black Darter.
Not the most attractive dragonfly perhaps, but exciting for me because I’m not aware of having seen one of these before and I certainly haven’t photographed one.
Another stepping stone race. Only ever going to be one winner.Fly agaric?Elephant Hawkmoth Caterpillar.
The first time I saw, and photographed, one of these, was also on a walk with A. And her friend S and the Tower Captain come to that, way back in 2009. One of the photos I took then somehow ended up high on the list of results of an internet image search and for a few years that post would get heavy traffic every July and August when people were trying to work out what it was they’d seen clambering on their Fuschias.
We had one more opportunity to meet up with my brother-in-law and his family and drove to Raby Castle, which is near Crook in County Durham, where they were staying with TBH’s parents, who also joined us for the day.
My in-laws with their grandsons, again.
Since we first met, TBH has been telling me how fabulous Raby Castle is, but somehow we’ve never got around to visiting it together.
Raby castle, courtyard.
It seems to have avoided being ‘slighted’ during the Civil War, the fate of many English Castles, so it’s still in a good state of repair and is much a stately home as a castle.
I think this was the butler’s room.
Each of the rooms was curated by a member of staff, all of whom were keen to answer questions and to tell stories about the house, it’s former occupants and ghostly residents. It was certainly an enjoyable venue for a family day out on a grey and damp day.
A room with……a fancy ceiling.Dining room.Guns galore.The recently restored state coach.A huge room.A griffon?The family chapel.A lion on the end of a pew.And the whippet (?) opposite.Lots of shiny pots, kettles and jelly molds in the kitchen.Raby Castle exterior.
Dr A, W, M, B and S on the Balancing Tree in the Ring of Beeches.
Our Peak District trip was timed to fit in with a visit from my brother-in-law, Dr A and his family. We didn’t have them for long and were keen to pack a lot in. First of all, a walk in Eaves Wood.
Dr A and B on the same branch in 2008. Silverdale from Castlebarrow.TBH and Dr S at The Cove.W has been clambering on the rocks, and swimming in the mud.
Since our American relatives needed to be back in County Durham, we decided to head that way and to rendezvous by Brougham Castle. Now, note: Brougham Castle, not Brough Castle which is nearby. Since I’d been very careful to point out the similarity of names and locations, we knew as we waited near Brougham Castle that they couldn’t possibly have made the mistake of going to Brough instead. After all, maps are pretty much Dr A’s area of professional expertise.
Brougham Castle and the River Eamont.
With a little time to kill whilst Dr A drove his family the short distance back from Brough to Brougham, we decided to detour slightly to have a peek around Brougham Hall, which is free and always worth a gander.
Brougham Hall.Brougham Hall.Brougham Hall, the Chancellor’s Den.
There’s more about the Hall and the Castle, and cute photos of the kids when they were little, from a previous visit here.
Once we were reunited, we drove to Little Salkeld, intending to have a walk to Lacy’s Caves. The path has been officially closed when we’ve done that walk in the past (one of those walks here). It still is. But now there’s a big sign displayed to that effect, rather than a scrappy bit of paper tacked to a telegraph pole. We decided to head up the road a little way to Long Meg stone circle instead.
Looking to the Lake District from the new car park by Long Meg and her Sisters.A short walk to the stones.
There may be a new, and quite substantial, car park, but we still had the circle almost to ourselves.
Some of the Sisters.
It’s an amazing place and it astonishes me that it’s not more well known. (There’s more details about the stones in this post from our first visit in 2011.)
More of the stones...…which clearly need to be climbed on.Long Meg.Cup and ring mark. I think.Long Meg, with her sisters behind.More stones.And more.Dark skies over the Pennines.Another view of the stones.TBH chilling out.Family pose.Heald Brow.
Later, when we were home again, and since it was a nice evening, I was out for a local stroll.
We had one more day in our little cottage in Staffordshire, but Little S was under the weather and B needed a lift to Uttoxeter to catch a train to Manchester where he was meeting friends. Unfortunately, the main road was closed due to an accident, which meant that trip took a lot longer than it ought to have done.
Calwich Park.
So TBH and I finished off our short trip with a wander in the vicinity of the cottage. The countryside was green and rolling and very pleasant.
I’d noticed Calwich Abbey on the map and was keen to take a peek. According to the Historic England website the house is Victorian, but in a Tudor style, and is built on the site of a medieval abbey. It was derelict when the listing was made, in 1984, but was sold in 2015, so hopefully it will be restored?
Calwich Abbey, otherwise known as The House of Usher.Another Ground Beetle. Maybe a Pterostichusspecies?Buzzard, I think.River Dove.TBH by the River Dovenear Norbury.Small scale hydro scheme?
The path through the woods near Norbury were overgrown from the off – nettles, brambles etc; all the obstacles to pleasant country walking in the summer. As we progressed it became more and more impenetrable. We should really have turned back. By the end, a machete was needed, and my habitual choice of shorts had turned out to be a very poor decision. Then it was spitting with rain as we walked along a minor lane for a while.
TBH heading towards the Dove.
At least the last section, over the Dove via the charmingly named Toadhole Footbridge was much more pleasant.
TBH on Toadhole Footbridge.
As we crossed the bridge, we were lucky enough to catch sight of a Kingfisher, my first for some time.
River Dove.TBH on Toadhole Footbridge.Almost back to our accommodation.
Looking at the map, after our walk, it struck me that there is probably quite a bit of scope for decent walks in this area, just outside the National Park. The wooded valley of Ordley Brook looks particularly worth exploring. Another time perhaps. I certainly hope it’s not too long before we come back to the Peak District for another visit – perhaps a slightly longer one next time.
I’ve always considered the view from Monsal Head of the Headstone Viaduct to be one of the iconic scenes in the Peak District. Since the days when I was a regular visitor to the area, the old railway line has been converted into a walking and cycling track, a fact which Andy alerted me to on his blog. We’d brought the DBs bikes with us, and hired bikes at Hassop Station for TBH and myself. I remember that my bike was a Raleigh, but not which model, which is a shame, because it was very comfortable and a pleasure to ride.
Headstone Tunnel
Hassop is near, but not at, one end of the line. We set-off west to tackle the larger portion of the trail first. There are six tunnels on the route and I seem to have taken photos either of, or in, most of them. I’m not sure why I was so chuffed to be cycling through tunnels, perhaps because I’m still essentially a big kid at heart.
View from the Headstone Viaduct.View the other way from the Headstone Viaduct.Cressbrook Mill.Gorge-ous scenery.One of the dales.
The trail generally follows the valley of the River Wye, but, confusingly, the name of the dale changes along its length: Monsal Dale, Water-cum-Jolly Dale, Millers Dale, Chee Dale, Wye Dale. It’s hard to know where the transitions occur and also hard to remember where each of the photos was taken, so I can’t say which dale each one shows!
Happy bikers.Looking down on the road.Two viaducts near Miller’s Dale Station.Miller’s Dale Station.
The cafe at Millers Dale station was popular and we probably should have got some lunch there. Little S did get an ice-cream, which for some reason seems to have caused some consternation on his part…
Little S with a suspicious ice-cream.Huge limekiln.Possibly the last of the tunnels.End of the line.
We’d been planning to eat at the cafe at Blackwell Mill, at the western end of the trail, but didn’t, I think it was closed. Either that, or it didn’t have any vegan options, I can’t remember.
Chee Dale.
I’d chosen to start near the Bakewell end because I’d read online that it would be uphill from there. It must be a very gentle gradient: it hadn’t seemed uphill, but now that we turned around, the difference was really obvious and going the other way was much faster and could be free-wheeled.
Chee Dale from the little spur.
I had noticed a short spur here coming post and took a detour now to have a nose. It was well worth it for the view.
Free-wheeling.One of the Dales!
Back at Hassop station we had a very late lunch in the excellent cafe there, which is highly recommended.
We were running short of time on our bike rentals, so I asked in the shop whether we were okay to cycle to the other end of the line near Bakewell. I was told that it was fine, so long as we were back before closing, but that the return part was uphill and that many people found it challenging.
The other end of the line.Bakewell Station.Hassop Station.
Actually, it was fine and I’m pleased that we managed to fit in the entire route. I was hoping for a view over Bakewell, but whilst we did get some, they were partial and didn’t yield very good photos. The whole trail is 8½ miles, so there and back is only 17, not a very long cycle ride I know, but immensely enjoyable and pretty much flat which is a big selling point as far as I’m concerned.
Dove Dale.
From my childhood visits to the Peak District I think three memories stand out: the show caves around Castleton; steaming, overheated cars pulled over on the roadside up Winnats Pass; and the stepping stones and rock scenery of Dove Dale. Since Dove Dale wasn’t far from where we staying, I was determined to fit in a visit whilst we were there and although it was late in the day, we managed to get into the National Trust car park before the entrance was closed for the evening.
River Dove.
Even though it was early evening, the area around the stepping stones was still very busy, with lots of large family groups enjoying picnics. We didn’t have to go far though before it became much quieter.
The Twelve Apostles, well some of them.
I remember, on those early visits, being awed by the natural rock arch above the path, and that it was close to Reynard’s Cave, but I don’t think we ever climbed up to the arch or the cave.
Natural Arch.
Judging by the heavily eroded path, that’s now a very popular activity. It’s pretty steep, more so than this photo suggests.
And from above.And from Reynard’s Cave.TBH in Reynard’s Cave.
Like Thor’s Cave, there’s archeological evidence showing that Reynard’s Cave was occupied, at least sporadically, during the Neolithic through to the Medieval period.
Another cave.
We found another, smaller cave just around the corner from Reynard’s and then an alternative route back to the river which was a little less steep.
Descending from Reynard’s Cave.
Before heading for home we walked a little further upstream so that the DBs could investigate this rather wet cave which had a stream flowing out of it…
Another cave down by the river.The famous stepping stones.
And finally, on the path back to the car park, a couple of interesting insect encounters…
Lesser Stag Beetle (I think).A White Ermine Moth Caterpillar (I think).
This was the last full day of our flying visit to the Midlands. Our trip was short, but packed with interest and I hope it’s not too long before we’re back in the area.
When I was a nipper, trips to the limestone caverns around Castleton where a regular treat, at least that’s how I remember it and we certainly visited all of the show caves in that area. But I don’t think we ever visited Poole’s Cavern near Buxton. So, we’d booked online the night before to put that right. Driving up, Google maps took us on a high level route, coming into Buxton from Axe Edge Moor, which I very much enjoyed because of the fantastic views.
One of the resident Buzzards near our accommodation.
Actually, I’m getting ahead of myself. There were a pair of Buzzards evidently resident in the trees near to our rental property and I took every opportunity to try to get photos of them. Here’s one I took whilst I was waiting for everybody to be ready to set off for Buxton.
Flowstone features Poole cavern.
I thoroughly enjoyed Poole’s Cavern. There was an interesting little museum in the visitor’s centre too. Apparently there’s evidence that the cave was occupied from the Bronze Age onwards. One of the occupants was an outlaw called Poole, hence the name.
Flowstone features Poole cavern.
The large and broken stalactite in the centre is called The Flitch of Bacon. I was more impressed with the pools in the flowstone beneath.
An abundance of stalagmites and stalactites.
Quarrying in the hillside above the cavern has caused the stalactites and stalagmites to grow at an increased rate. Research is ongoing into this accelerated growth.
Stalagmites and stalactitesPoached Egg Stalagmites.More flowstone features.And more (or a backdrop from a scene in Alien?)And more.Flowstone coated boulder at the furthest point of the tour.
Seasoned cavers have apparently been working for years to dig a way through the stonefall at the end of the passage to find a way through to potential caverns beyond. It sounds like a dangerous and thankless task.
Poole’s Cavern is part of Buxton Country Park. There’s a Go Ape there too, and so I booked the DBs in for an afternoon session, we lunched at the cafe in the visitor centre, and then while the boys were doing their Tarzan thing, TBH and I went for a wander through Grin Low Woods and up to the top of the hill, where there’s a folly and a fine view over Buxton.
Grin Low.Grinlow Tower (Solomon’s Temple).
Grinlow Tower was apparently commissioned by the splendidly named Solomon Mycock to provide work for the unemployed in the town.
Buxton from the top of the tower.Looking towards Axe Edge Moor.
Back in 1983, my dad, his friend John and myself completed a challenge event called the Bullocky Smithy Hike. It’s an annual thing, still running if you fancy a go, organised by Hazel Grove Scouts. It’s advertised as 56 miles, but whilst there are checkpoints there’s no fixed route. We did a bit of road walking to avoid stumbling down Miller’s Dale in the dark, so I’ve always claimed that we walked 60. To be honest, it’s mainly the checkpoints (and the pain in my left knee for the last few miles) which I remember. At the checkpoints volunteers offered friendly encouragement, lavish quantities of food, hot sweet tea and (I think) treatment for blisters and muscle aches. I think we crossed Axe Edge Moor at about three in the morning. I was exhausted and very, very cold at this point. The checkpoint was in a barn close to the Cat and Fiddle Pub, I think, and the warmth and the tea and soup on offer, cheered me up no end. A couple of years later, in my first year at University, a fellow resident of the tiny Halls I lived in, an ultra-runner, won the event in a ridiculous, record time of around 9 hours. We took 22 I think. I don’t think I’d even realised it was a race. There’s a fuller, more detailed, account of a more recent completion here, which I enjoyed reading.
We took a different route down through the woods and found lots of heavily laden raspberry canes.
Sculpture of a Lime Burner, Grin Low Woods.
Although tucking into the raspberries slowed us down somewhat, we still had time to kill before the DBs were done swinging through the trees, so we had a wander down into Buxton.
Boating Lake, Pavilion Gardens.Buxton Pavilion.
Back in University Hiking Club days I think we held at least one post-hike Meal and Barn Dance (we’d call it a Ceilidh these days I suspect) in Buxton, I think in the Pavilion, although I could easily be wrong. I also ran the Buxton half-marathon years ago, a very hilly affair with a brutal first few miles up on to Axe Edge Moor. Anyway, it’s a handsome spa town and a lovely place to visit, so I was glad to be back.
Buxton Pavilion.Pavilion Tea Rooms.Pavilion Interior.Buxton Opera House.London Transport Bus – a bit lost?Buxton CrescentGrove Hotel.Cafe at the Green Pavilion.
We popped into the Cafe at the Green Pavilion for a drink. It was hot by now, so I settled on a locally brewed beer. Very nice too. The menu looked enticing, so we were disappointed that the staff were in the process of closing up, and we couldn’t come back for tea. In fact, I can’t remember what we did by way of an evening meal – maybe this was the night we had late fish and chips from the chippy on the Market Square in Ashbourne? Also very nice.
War Memorial.
There were a group filming by the War Memorial, but whether film or TV, drama or documentary, I’ve no idea.
The Crescent and the Pump Room Roof.
I did dip into the Pump Room, now a visitor centre and cafe, but my photos of the interior are not very impressive.
Danebower Colliery Ventilation Chimney.
We weren’t done yet. I’d taken a leaf out of Andy’s book and been scouring satellite images looking for a suitable layby to give us access to the River Dane, because I’d also been scouring the internet for wild-swimming spots in the Peak District. There don’t seem to be many likely venues.
River Dane
Which probably explains why, even though it was getting quite late, the pools at Three Shires Head were very busy. It’s nice to see people enjoying the outdoors, but, as much as I enjoy loud music, in the right circumstances, I prefer it when other people don’t subject me to their execrable taste in modern pop. (Heh, heh, I sound like my dad: ‘It just goes thump, thump, thump’). In fact, the pools are not ideal for swimming. Well, you can manage a couple of strokes in the pool on the left in the photo below, but neither is very deep.
Three Shires Head.
We consoled ourselves by ducking under each of the waterfalls, a bracing experience, which seemed to start a bit of a trend.
It’s a long time since I last visited Three Shires Head and I was trying to remember whether the paths were as eroded then as they are now. I remember it as quite an isolated, quiet spot, although, since it’s not far from a major road, I suppose that I might be guilty of looking back through rose-tinted spectacles.
Advancing shadows. The Roaches on the skyline.
All-in-all, a really enjoyable day. And, Grin Low, which was new to me, might be one for our forthcoming book ‘Small Hills with Disproportionately Good Views’. Talking of which, we have a competitor…
Our idea made flesh!
I saw this in Waterstones in Lancaster and then, fortuitously, also found it in the Oxfam bookshop, so I now have a copy. Some of our favourites are in there, but many are not, so we may be in the clear. Phew! Unless Phoebe Smith has a volume two on the way? Oh no!
Our accommodation was very close to Alton Towers, it would have been churlish not to offer the DBs a day out there, but it’s not really my speed these days, so having dropped them off there, we went instead to the National Trust’s Shugborough Hall Estate, where we had a great day out.
Shiny pots and pans.Crockery.Shugborough Hall interior.A fancy ceiling.Books galore – my favourite room, obviously.Library ceiling.In the garden.Reverse of the house.The River Sow.Knopper Gall.
The arboretum in the grounds is home to 150 species of oaks from all around the world, which was fascinating. Some of the acorns were malformed in this way. I think this is a Knopper Gall. Knopper from the German word ‘Knoppe’ for a 17th century felt hat. The gall is caused by a tiny gall wasp Andricus quercuscalicis, which only arrived in the UK in the 1960s. Curiously, it has two different alternating generations one of which makes these galls, whilst the other lives on Turkey Oaks, an introduced species usually found in the parks of stately homes. I took several photos of different galls but have used this one because it was more colourful and more knobbly than the others. Apparently, the very distorted and folded appearance means that there are lots of wasps present, although I have no idea what sort of number constitutes ‘lots’.
A distant view of the house.The Chinese House.Europe’s widest Yew(and TBH for scale!)Essex Bridge.
A document from 1679 mentions this bridge, which is just outside Shugborough’s grounds, replacing an older wooden bridge and having 43 arches. Since it now has 14 either it has been significantly reduced in size or somebody was exaggerating. Has the Trent shrunk since the 17th Century?
Essex Bridge.River Trent.
It was a lovely spot and there were a number of kids making the most of it and paddling in the river here.
English Longhorn Cows.
I was very taken with the English Longhorn cattle at Shugborough. Apparently, despite the fearsome looking horns, they are docile.
English Longhorn Cows.
I’ve read that they’re very good mothers too.
The stables – I think.
There’s a cafe and a secondhand bookshop tucked away in a courtyard hereabouts. We patronised both. TBH was impressed with her vegan lunch but my ploughman’s was thoroughly underwhelming.
1955 Rover 75.Tower of the Winds.Tower if the Winds – leaded window.The Orangery in the Walled Garden.
Much as I enjoyed the house and the grounds, for some reason it was the walled garden which appealed most of all. I’m not much of a gardener, but I really appreciate other people’s efforts.
Artichokes?
Only part of the garden has been restored – if they get around to fixing it all it will be huge.
Honey Bees.
I like tall flowering plants, and I love to eat artichokes – we really ought to have some in our garden. My Dad used to grow them on his allotment, I’m pretty sure.
In the Walled Garden.
It had been a partly cloudy day, but by this point it had actually become quite hot, not something we experienced very often this summer.
In the Walled Garden.Sweet-Scented Joe-Pye Weed?In the Walled Garden.How ’bout them onions?Courgettes.The River Trent at the Wolseley Centre.
Alton Towers was open quite late, and we knew the boys would want to milk it to the full, so en route we stopped at the Staffordshire Wildlife Trust’s headquarters at the Wolseley Centre. We actually arrived after closing time, but were told that there was an event on there, so we were okay to stroll around the site before braving the traffic chaos at Alton Towers.
Purple Loosestrife at the Wolseley Centre.
Shugborough is very close to Cannock Chase, which had me very excited because of fondly remembered childhood visits. We didn’t find time to go exploring there on this occasion, so I’ve added it to my ever expanding ‘to do’ list.
Beating The Bounds 