We were apparently under a heat dome covering mainly Europe but, for us, particularly the Westend in the Dark Peak where the Serious (Slow) Warts were gathering. Even before we started there had been a bit of drama about the forecast record temperatures in the UK, so some Slow Warts decided to be sensible and stay cool and away, by avoiding the expected blistering (?) heat of Westend. Our first mistake was assuming we five would be the total attendance, so, by ten minutes before our official start time, we’d decided no one else would be coming (see later), so we went. Slowly at first, and, unsurprisingly, also for the rest of the saunter, in the 30⁰C breezy (thankfully) heat.
We were initially spared by the shade of the woods near Fagney Clough and the cooling wind as we headed to the Alport, fortunately with a few view stops, over this Harmerian terrain.
Andy, by the way, had opted to search for the bog asphodels near the Rocking Stone in the early morning, at 21⁰C. We eventually reached the Alport edge path for some glorious views of this amazing valley, but please don’t tell everybody.
To our shame, we found ourselves not alone on the edge path, when Kev appeared running towards us, having found himself alone at the start at 5 pm. Some suitable comments were exchanged though I don’t remember hearing any apologies from us. Despite our misdemeanour, he was prepared to join us for the rest of the outing, involving some significant scrambling (for me) to the top of The Tower.
It was worth it, glorious views! Chris had had the foresight to stay in the rock “garden” below the Tower to take some impressive photos. We recalled other visits to this lofty location, particularly the descent, where one part is slippery in both the winter mud, and the summer dry dust, tread carefully! We had some more horizontal scrambling through the rocky debris presumably left by the ancient (?) land slip.
Having enjoyed the Tower views of us from the edge, Moz had gone ahead but we were faced with a long, vegetated crossing of Birchinlee Pasture, a misnomer if ever there was one. There was some occasional small relief from this rough, not much, but it’s all good experience, isn’t it? We should enjoy it! To compensate, we had the excitement of finding some cotton grass and an obscure pond (thanks Tom). There were no frogs and it was slightly murky but worth it!
One of the things to admire in the Derwent valley is, of course, the building of the reservoir dams and the surrounding buildings, constructed to last for many lifetimes. This also applies to the walls enclosing the various woods and forests. They even have (fancy) castellated top stones and more recently (to make sure) barbed wire, all up to height of over 6 feet, which keeps the forest inside and every thing else outside, including, of course, most average fell runners, which we questionably think we are. Reaching the forest wall after enjoying the pond, we began to appreciate the skills of the stone masons and the builders more fully as we were forced to skirt around hoping there would be an accessible opening in to the wood. Fortunately, there was, just a simple wooden stile, for we average fell runners. And then, a soft green, cool pasture to finish off the outing and to compensate for all the rough stuff we’d endured. A perfect finish.
Even more perfect, we went on to the YBI where, surprise, surprise, we had a richly deserved drink. Thanks to all for a fantastic evening out.
Graham
