5/6. Had been feeling a bit peaky since last bivi session, so Pickers kindly offered to accompany me on some Peak Practice last weekend. Direct train 07.09 from Leighton Buzzard all-stations to Kidsgrove allowed me plenty of time in the restaurant car – kippers, kedgeree, porridge, toast, silver pot of tea with The Times etc etc. Then it was Picker’s charabanc up to Burbage via Flash Bar Stores where we partook of a late breakfast in the highest village in Britain (although Wanlockhead bitterly disputes this factoid of course). Extra marks were awarded for their possession of an outside lav which Pickers duly sampled. Curiously we could actually see the mast at our destination Eyam from Burbage, 15 miles away, albeit somewhat further via our circuitous route. Equally curiously the mast was almost at exactly the same height USL as our start point.
First section was over the rocky track to the Cat and Fiddle Inn (England’s 2nd highest boozer; I wonder where the 3rd highest mountain bike trail is, and the 4th highest sewage works?), then down to Three Shire Heads with its picture-postcard river bridge.
The pull up to Wicken Walls was chain-wreckingly sandy, and the further haul back up to Flash Stores was lung-wreckingly steep too. The proprietor of said establishment was suitably baffled as we rolled past 2.5 hours after we’d previously seen her. A missed opportunity for another brew, but one of the amusing drops down into Hollinsclough beckoned; followed by a pleasant amble next to, and indeed completely into in Pickers’ moist case, the River Dove towards Longnor. A lights-controlled road narrows was entertaining since it was a few hundred yards long up a steep hill and the lights changed at least three times after we’d passed our original green, and it got a bit confusing whether drivers were attacking us from behind or in front. Pickers at the Hollinsclough rockfest:
Longnor Craft Centre provided a late luncheon, giving us a bit of fuel to head down to the Dove again then back up to Dowlow quarry. Mostly so far our route had cunningly involved roads up and tracks down, and a further track brought us to Priestcliffe followed by another bone-jarring descent down to Millers Dale, riding over the bonnets and roofs of the 4x4s coming uphill towards us. We’d meant to meet Lee here but our geriatric progress (so he said) had allowed him two or three trips along the Monsal Trail and back while he was festering waiting for us. Still, as many know, it’s a very pleasant meander along through the old railway tunnels by the River Wye making it what must be one of the most popular off-road “family” trails in the country. Takes ages picking bits of dog out from your spokes at the other end though ;-).
Eschewing, not chewing, the world’s most expensive sarnie at Monsal Head (see previous report) was little hardship since just down the road the Packhorse Inn offered a far more satisfactory couple of cheeky mid-afternoon pints of Thornbridge Old Scrote. Pickers was all for staying for dinner as well but the 90 minute wait rather put a damper on his lipsmacking so it was off over Longstone Edge for the cracking downhill into Calver and along to Stoney Middleton chippie, which is a good antidote to Tywyn chipshop. By this time the 2pm-advertised 6pm-actual rain had finally materialised so we resorted to the traditional bus-shelter dining room and chomped away in gently steaming puddles.
Slight drawback with the chippie visit was the 15-minute late arrival at Eyam Stores thereby rendering us milkless for breakfast, sigh. Various bivi spots including the football pitch were rejected in favour of a spot just off the Little Bretton BOAT or RUPP or whatever it is. In fact a boat would have been very useful by this point, and the well-known feature of waterproof clothing (to keep water in) had made itself known by now. A peaceful and aqueous night ensued, broken only by me being attacked by a Monty Python-style killer rabbit which turned out only to be my makeshift tarp pole stick collapsing onto my bag. So far so UK-standard-June: winter sleeping bag toasty in the pissing rain, floating out from the tarp and gently down the hill on a blow-up mat.
Breakfast was frugal: porridge with stream water (no salt though, I’m not that professional) and ovaltine instead of tea (no milk y'see), and Pickers was even more frugal due to a stove fault. Luckily the last dregs of my bio-ethanol Stu-Stove allowed him a small brew. A screaming downhill from Shatton Moor (or possibly Shat On which is how we were feeling by this point) to Hope Adventure Cafe just as the rain stopped, which offered a nice bit of toast or bacon roll as desired. The well-dressing ceremony was, er, well underway but I’m not convinced that a water shortage was the most pressing of Hope’s problems at this point.
The usual stagger up Mam Tor brought us to the Blue John tea shack. Shall we stop again? “No definitely not”, “we’ve only just had breakfast that’d be ridiculous”. 20 minutes and two cuppas later, with the weekend’s cafe-stop tally mounting alarmingly, the now-baking sunshine accompanied us over to Tideswell via Oxlow Rake and a very nice track at Wheston which became progressively steeper and rockier and nastier until we debouched into Tideswell with blazing brake pads. Another late lunch, at the Exotic Dancer – sorry Exotic TEA – cafe, where they’d almost run out of food after their own well-dressing day. Due to time constraints we abandoned the return to Buxton via Longnor, and cut along the best bit of the Monsal Trail through Chee Tor tunnels, then up Cow Dale – minus any bovine presence apart from our own hopeless pedalling abilities. As Pickers said there was no way this was a “one arrow” incline, but the purgatory continued across Harpur Hill which looked flat on the map because we’d missed seeing the “twin arrow” valley at Grin Low.
On the way back to Kidsgrove it would have been rude not to nip into Flash Bar cafe yet again. So we did, just before closing time. Nice cup of rosie lee, a fact-finding visit to the outside karzi for me (a separate report of which will find its way to the forum of the Outside Bog Appreciation Society), and a bottle of Flash IPA for the train home. At this point Pickers decided to try and convert me to the efficiencies of Satnav technology to guide us the last 12 miles in a straight line along the A53. I must say I’m impressed – we covered some amazing single-track roads round Leek, some with grass growing down the middle, and at one point the A53 went through a small ford. It may not have been the A53 at this point I confess, but I was too dizzy to suss where we were. If we’d stuck to a paper map we’d have missed all these attractions
. Anyroadup, Pickers did a top job navigating us back to civilisation, well Kidsgrove anyway, just in time for the 17.50 sleeping car train back to Leighton Buzzard. The Satnav has apparently since been buried in a convenient cowpat after it directed Pickers off one junction on the M6 on the way home, round some random lanes, then back on at the next junction before carrying on as if nothing had happened!
Very many thanks to Pickers for putting up with my dubious route-planning, and next time it’s the Trans Siberian MTB Trail we reckon. The weather’ll be miles better.
“Reg”
IMG_8184 by Green Vegetables, on Flickr
IMG_8193 by Green Vegetables, on Flickr
- had a bit chillier than expected bivy (i.e. I'd got too light a bag) at Moss Eccles Tarn whilst doing the #jennride
WP_20160527_16_47_36_Pro by Blair Caldwell, on Flickr
Comrie Croft 2 by Blair Caldwell, on Flickr
Comrie Croft 3 by Blair Caldwell, on Flickr
IMG_8421 by Green Vegetables, on Flickr
IMG_8415 by Green Vegetables, on Flickr
