Part One
This month's overnight was planned during the week and I had to get everything ready on the Friday night. I had planned for a two nighter but last minute sleep over plans for my daughter put paid to that. Not wanting to waste a minute more, I had breakfast before chucking my pack into the van at 5am on Saturday morning for the drive up to the Peaks....
I parked at the foot of the famous reservoirs where the Dambuster raids of WW2 were rehearsed. Locking up the van after shouldering my pack I made my way to the top of one as the light of the morning grew. It was a touch chilly so I moved briskly to get the blood flowing. Once at the top of the dam, I took off my pack and put on a windshirt as the breeze was biting. A quick shuffle with the clothing and I returned my burden to my back before taking in the sheer size of the stone work...
My route for the day was on the other side of the dam, so back down I went and crossed over at the bottom to begin the short sharp climb up to the gravel track. At the bottom the absolute size of the dam is shown in all its glory. Truly immense, and at its hight there was a workforce of over 2000 here.
The trsck on the Eastern side of the reservoir was easy going. The cold wind was mostly right in my face, so I had both hat and gloves on. I suffer in my hands with the cold so I couldn't keep the gloves off for more than a few minutes. An hour into it and I broke off the track to head into a clough to begin the ascent up onto the Moor. It was quite wooded in the clough and sheltered, so I sat down by a stream to grab a coffee and refill my waterbottle, the contents of which I swallowed as the water for the coffee came to a boil. A nice brew in a quiet spot, I realised that since leaving the van I had only seen one other person, and that was right near the carpark....
The stream next to where I was sat really was beautiful, clear and fast flowing. The pictures really don't do it justice, but it was freezing and as I took a gulp of the water it took my breath away!
Coffe kit packed away, I took the path out of the clough and up onto the Moor. I was on the south facing side of clough and in full sun and being sheltered from the wind it was glorious. I stopped to look back from whence I came, the colours were stunning and I held my breath to listen. Not a man-made sound to be heard, only the wind whipping high over my head and the calling of the birds.
The little reservoir down below betrayed a few little fish hiding under weeds. I think they were brook trout but I'm hardly sure, maybe wishful thinking!
Turning North East, I made it up onto the Moor, and into the full force of the wind. My gosh, the wind was strong, and I mentally patted myself on the back for donning the windshirt early on. Checking my map, I had to turn my back to the wind. The path marked on the map was non existent after some grouse butts and I strayed a little too NNW off the route. The ground was waterlogged and I was glad of the highleg boot choice, as they stopped me from getting soaked feet more than once. The terrain was desolate but stunning and I made my way across the Moor, making a beeline to a junction with a major track further to the north. For a few hours I still hadn't seen nor heard another human being and I really felt like I was truly alone.
Highlight of this section of the trip was I walked right up onto a short earred owl which had been resting in the heather. It all of a sudden swooped up right in front of me and gave me quite the fright. The gorgeous bird was totally silent, and being so close its wingspan looked enormous as it glided off to take cover a few hundred yards away, and I stood watching it tamp down the heather once more. I apologised to the owl for disturbing it before turning my face back into the wind and continuing my way.
I always keep a selection of oat bars, fruit bars and the like in the hip pockets of my rucksack and I graze on them as I go. It was just before lunch time when I began my decent back into the valley and I had an idea where to rest for a drink and a snack. My rucksack needed a rest from my back and I needed to adjust my clothes, so I wanted a sheltered spot from the wind.
The path down was very steep and I chided myself for not cutting my toes nails before hand as they were casuing me some mild discomfort as I made my way down. It was at the bottom and next to the river that I saw the first of many walkers that day. Two rather lovely ladies who immediately asked me if I had seen a man in a blue gagoule and bright blue hat. I said that I had not, and they were the first people I had seen since leaving the carpark that morning. I explained where I had been, but I was of no help to them. It appears that the man in the blue gagoule had started the day out with them, but had decided to go off by himself, agreeing to meet later. He had not appeared. I asked if they had searched for him or called him. One lady said 'oh its OK he's very experienced'. I wandered if experience stops you from having accidents.... I promised to keep an eye for the man in the blue gagoule, bade them good luck and farewell and moved off. I told them I would be resting by the prominent bridge for 20 minutes. Should I see him, I will guide him to them. What more could I do?
I stopped at this popular bridge to readjust kit, take on water and have a snack.
It was here, at almost midday that a steady stream of people began to appear. I said a cheery hello to all of them. Some replied, some didn't. After my agreed 20 minute stay, I shouldered my pack once more and began the walk southwards, this time on the western side of the reservoir and in the full sun. Glorious! It was warm after the windy weather up on the moor and I basked in the sun's rays as I strolled along. The gravel path turned to asphalt and I actually started to sweat. Not good. I planned to stop and strip off a few layers and found a nice spot next to the path that I was to take towards my destination for the day/nights camp. Here the water was fast flowing, shallow over rocks and crystal clear. Looking at my map, I saw no such water source anywhere near the planned camp site, so I took the option of filling a 3 ltr camelbak, which I use as a camp bladder, downing the contents of my water bottle and refilling it from the stream. So, 4 ltrs of water and some of my clothing layers packed, I was about 5kg heavier when I began the very, very steep climb back up onto the Moor....
And a steep climb it was. I was breathing heavily in no time, but I kept my pace short and constant, never pausing and breathed deep in time with my steps. My thighs were burning when I made it to the plateau some time later. Thankfully the strong wind had been at my back the entire way. The wind was so strong that I paid attention to stay away from the edge of the cliff as I took the sight of my planned campsite.
Alport Castles is simply stunning....
It was still a little early in the day and there were a few folk about, so I climbed down, and then back up into the castles to take a well earned rest. I got out my roll mat and got a coffee on. The plan being to let the crowds die down before putting up the tent. This took much longer than expected, the castles are clearly a very popular spot. I smiled watching several brightly coloured hikers scramble to the summit of the castles for that timeless Insta Shot, before precariously making their way back down. Every one of them spent next to no time up there, quick snap shot, then back down. Honestly, I contemplated doing the same thing but then I thought no, I really don't want to break my leg and what will I see up there that I can't already see down here? So I took this one for the Gram....
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This month's overnight was planned during the week and I had to get everything ready on the Friday night. I had planned for a two nighter but last minute sleep over plans for my daughter put paid to that. Not wanting to waste a minute more, I had breakfast before chucking my pack into the van at 5am on Saturday morning for the drive up to the Peaks....
I parked at the foot of the famous reservoirs where the Dambuster raids of WW2 were rehearsed. Locking up the van after shouldering my pack I made my way to the top of one as the light of the morning grew. It was a touch chilly so I moved briskly to get the blood flowing. Once at the top of the dam, I took off my pack and put on a windshirt as the breeze was biting. A quick shuffle with the clothing and I returned my burden to my back before taking in the sheer size of the stone work...
My route for the day was on the other side of the dam, so back down I went and crossed over at the bottom to begin the short sharp climb up to the gravel track. At the bottom the absolute size of the dam is shown in all its glory. Truly immense, and at its hight there was a workforce of over 2000 here.
The trsck on the Eastern side of the reservoir was easy going. The cold wind was mostly right in my face, so I had both hat and gloves on. I suffer in my hands with the cold so I couldn't keep the gloves off for more than a few minutes. An hour into it and I broke off the track to head into a clough to begin the ascent up onto the Moor. It was quite wooded in the clough and sheltered, so I sat down by a stream to grab a coffee and refill my waterbottle, the contents of which I swallowed as the water for the coffee came to a boil. A nice brew in a quiet spot, I realised that since leaving the van I had only seen one other person, and that was right near the carpark....
The stream next to where I was sat really was beautiful, clear and fast flowing. The pictures really don't do it justice, but it was freezing and as I took a gulp of the water it took my breath away!
Coffe kit packed away, I took the path out of the clough and up onto the Moor. I was on the south facing side of clough and in full sun and being sheltered from the wind it was glorious. I stopped to look back from whence I came, the colours were stunning and I held my breath to listen. Not a man-made sound to be heard, only the wind whipping high over my head and the calling of the birds.
The little reservoir down below betrayed a few little fish hiding under weeds. I think they were brook trout but I'm hardly sure, maybe wishful thinking!
Turning North East, I made it up onto the Moor, and into the full force of the wind. My gosh, the wind was strong, and I mentally patted myself on the back for donning the windshirt early on. Checking my map, I had to turn my back to the wind. The path marked on the map was non existent after some grouse butts and I strayed a little too NNW off the route. The ground was waterlogged and I was glad of the highleg boot choice, as they stopped me from getting soaked feet more than once. The terrain was desolate but stunning and I made my way across the Moor, making a beeline to a junction with a major track further to the north. For a few hours I still hadn't seen nor heard another human being and I really felt like I was truly alone.
Highlight of this section of the trip was I walked right up onto a short earred owl which had been resting in the heather. It all of a sudden swooped up right in front of me and gave me quite the fright. The gorgeous bird was totally silent, and being so close its wingspan looked enormous as it glided off to take cover a few hundred yards away, and I stood watching it tamp down the heather once more. I apologised to the owl for disturbing it before turning my face back into the wind and continuing my way.
I always keep a selection of oat bars, fruit bars and the like in the hip pockets of my rucksack and I graze on them as I go. It was just before lunch time when I began my decent back into the valley and I had an idea where to rest for a drink and a snack. My rucksack needed a rest from my back and I needed to adjust my clothes, so I wanted a sheltered spot from the wind.
The path down was very steep and I chided myself for not cutting my toes nails before hand as they were casuing me some mild discomfort as I made my way down. It was at the bottom and next to the river that I saw the first of many walkers that day. Two rather lovely ladies who immediately asked me if I had seen a man in a blue gagoule and bright blue hat. I said that I had not, and they were the first people I had seen since leaving the carpark that morning. I explained where I had been, but I was of no help to them. It appears that the man in the blue gagoule had started the day out with them, but had decided to go off by himself, agreeing to meet later. He had not appeared. I asked if they had searched for him or called him. One lady said 'oh its OK he's very experienced'. I wandered if experience stops you from having accidents.... I promised to keep an eye for the man in the blue gagoule, bade them good luck and farewell and moved off. I told them I would be resting by the prominent bridge for 20 minutes. Should I see him, I will guide him to them. What more could I do?
I stopped at this popular bridge to readjust kit, take on water and have a snack.
It was here, at almost midday that a steady stream of people began to appear. I said a cheery hello to all of them. Some replied, some didn't. After my agreed 20 minute stay, I shouldered my pack once more and began the walk southwards, this time on the western side of the reservoir and in the full sun. Glorious! It was warm after the windy weather up on the moor and I basked in the sun's rays as I strolled along. The gravel path turned to asphalt and I actually started to sweat. Not good. I planned to stop and strip off a few layers and found a nice spot next to the path that I was to take towards my destination for the day/nights camp. Here the water was fast flowing, shallow over rocks and crystal clear. Looking at my map, I saw no such water source anywhere near the planned camp site, so I took the option of filling a 3 ltr camelbak, which I use as a camp bladder, downing the contents of my water bottle and refilling it from the stream. So, 4 ltrs of water and some of my clothing layers packed, I was about 5kg heavier when I began the very, very steep climb back up onto the Moor....
And a steep climb it was. I was breathing heavily in no time, but I kept my pace short and constant, never pausing and breathed deep in time with my steps. My thighs were burning when I made it to the plateau some time later. Thankfully the strong wind had been at my back the entire way. The wind was so strong that I paid attention to stay away from the edge of the cliff as I took the sight of my planned campsite.
Alport Castles is simply stunning....
It was still a little early in the day and there were a few folk about, so I climbed down, and then back up into the castles to take a well earned rest. I got out my roll mat and got a coffee on. The plan being to let the crowds die down before putting up the tent. This took much longer than expected, the castles are clearly a very popular spot. I smiled watching several brightly coloured hikers scramble to the summit of the castles for that timeless Insta Shot, before precariously making their way back down. Every one of them spent next to no time up there, quick snap shot, then back down. Honestly, I contemplated doing the same thing but then I thought no, I really don't want to break my leg and what will I see up there that I can't already see down here? So I took this one for the Gram....
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