Captain's Log

Ethels

The remains of this summer has been a pretty wet affair. I had been hoping to find a 4 day ‘good-weather’ slot in the Lake District to complete the second part of my Bob Graham Round Venture, but the poor weather forecast conspired against me. Well, that’s according to the BBC Weather app, so who knows what its been actually like. I’d spent most of August and September running rather than walking; for some reason I don’t mind getting wet when I run. The weather forecast indicated that Sunday might actually be a sunny day and the Cabin Boy suggested that the 'B' Team might make some progress on their sluggish attempt at completing the Ethels. I agreed to guide the Kapitan, Cabin Boy and Ted on their latest excursion and that’s how we found ourselves kitting up at the car park next to Redmires Upper Reservoir. 

Today’s walk would tick two Ethels: High Neb and Stanedge Pole (OS map spelling). These would come near to the end of the walk though. Initially, we’d head north over the moorland and fields that straddle the A57 Manchester Road. I’ve walked various routes through this particular area, but I decided to include Royds Clough today, a pretty and shallow valley that I’d not visited for 7 or 8 years. The route would then head westwards through fields and along roads before heading back south along the Stake Hill Road track. This would lead us to Moscar Lodge and the A57 again. After crossing the road, we’d continue southwards and follow the ever impressive Stanage Edge. Our first Ethel would be High Neb with its lofty views over the peakland moors. After further edge walking we would head away from it, eastwards to Stanedge Pole, the second Ethel tick of the day. From there it would be a downhill plod to the Redmire reservoirs and the carpark. 

Suunto Vertical

We followed a path over moorland, alongside a conduit that led away from the reservoirs. It was still early and the skyline was just brightening up as we looked eastwards towards Sheffield. It was a grey, dull day though and as we faced the prevailing wind to the  west, I thought we might be in for a drop of rain. I took the opportunity of an easy start to show the team my new purchase, a Suunto Vertical smart watch. I’d bought the watch primarily as a navigation aid. I have to say, the ability to download routes and maps to it makes navigation a cinch. I still take a paper map and a compass with me of course (in case the technology fails), but the watch now takes away all the hassle of navigation so that I can just tramp along and enjoy the walk. I’m now a digital navigation convert, although I think it's in the nature of Baby Boomers to be adaptable, so no surprises there. The watch also has comprehensive sport functions which I’ve been exploiting during my recent running campaign. I informed my attentive listeners that the watch analyses your runs and walks and calculates your V02Max metric based on your performance. VO2Max is a key indicator measuring the efficiency of your body to convert oxygen into actual physical effort. After 4 weeks of running data, I told them that the watch had concluded that I had a V02Max (i.e. physical fitness capacity) of a 37 to 39 year old. This was met with such raucous guffaws from my group that they were reminiscent of a boisterous audience watching a 19th century variety show comedy act.  

‘If you’re going to learn us a joke, tell us one that’s at least slightly plausible,’ scoffed the Cabin Boy from the stalls.
‘You’ve wasted your money on that watch, they sold you a pup’ chortled the Kapitan from the circle.
‘37 to 39 years old, my arse! I want my admission money refunded’ shouted Ted from the balcony. You always get the crudest ones hiding in the protective darkness of the balcony.
I have to admit that I was initially a bit taken aback by their unwarranted negativity. There was nothing for it but to stand my ground and just present them with the facts.
‘I would have you know that the Suunto website states that their technology is military grade’ I enlightened them.
‘Is that Dad’s Army military grade?’ came a shout from the balcony. My audience went into unjustified hysterics.
I decided to not pursue the matter further. At the end of today’s walk, I noticed that my V02Max had improved even further to that of the fitness of a 36 to 38 year old. Like Benjamin Button, I just seem to get younger and younger. I didn’t mention it to my walking companions; they just aren’t worth the trouble. 

A57 Traverse

Before reaching the A57, we completed a short out and back to have a look at the Head Stone. It’s quite an impressive rock formation that you can also see as you drive along the Manchester road. It’s unusual in that it is the only prominent stone on the moor. We dropped down to Rivelin Brook and crossed to the other side using the footbridge. After a short climb uphill, we then had to find a gap in the traffic, to make a short dash to the north side of the A57. There was then a field hop northwards where the Cabin Boy became agitated by a lone cow that was tracking our presence. It bellowed now and again to keep us on our toes. We joined Platts Lane which promised to take us back up onto open moor. The moorland was only short lived though, since we  soon reached a field on the other side that descended to Cranshaw Farm. 

10 Points For Stile

There were abundant cattle mooching about in the field adjacent to the farm. They were docile though and didn’t seem interested in us. Of more concern was the aggressive barking coming from the farm. One dog had been caged in a metal structure that looked like a Jurassic Park film prop. Another wolf-like beast strained at a chain that had been staked into the ground near a barn. Both seemed angry at our presence, although to be fair, I don't think I'd have been in the best of moods cooped up like that.     

We followed the farm track from the buildings for a couple of hundred yards before heading off on to a path along Royds Clough. Light rain started as we entered the woodland. The last time I’d walked along this track, I’d found it to be a pleasant stroll through a picturesque, shallow valley. Today, it turned into a bit of a nightmare. The vegetation had overgrown the track to the extent that it became a bushwhack and car wash. Forestry workers had been cutting down some of the trees when I walked here years ago, but this had left the area exposed for nature to run riot over the intervening period. The track was barely visible. I was grateful when we reached the other side of the bushes to field hop our way to Corker Lane. 

I was first across the wooden stile that traversed a stone wall to the lane. The Cabin Boy came next and when she was halfway down the steps, she decided to swallow dive the rest of the way down. She completed a forward somersault with a couple of tucked pikes before hitting the ground at my feet. I would certainly have given her 10 points for stile although she might have got more with a bit more technical difficulty. There were injuries too! As the Kapitan smothered her scratched and nettled hands in Savalon, I picked sticky buds and slugs out of her hair. From afar, this must have looked very much like a Bonobo monkey grooming session. The biggest tragedy of this whole affair was that the Cabin Boy had decided to cushion her landing not with her own trekking poles, but with mine. This resulted in the bottom section of my pole now pointing horizontal rather than vertical. I bent it back the best that I could, but its days of collapsed portability were now well and truly over.   

Ughill

I kept my distance from the Cabin Boy for the next section of the trip in case she decided to repeat the acrobatics. Another field-hop led us to Wet Shaw Lane. A Kestrel perched on a nearby stone wall keeping a canny eye on us as we passed. Some trail motorbikes preceded us up the track that was Stake Hill Road. Fortunately, these were the only ones we met along it. The track led us up on to Ughill Moor and this provided fine views westwards to the long ridge of Derwent Edge. The sky was still threatening, but for one moment the sun appeared and  illuminated the white trig point on Back Tor. The track dropped down off the moor and then meandered around Moscar Cross Farm and Moscar Lodge to the A57. After another sprint across to the other side of the tarmac, we were ready to start the last leg of our walk, along Stanage Edge. 

Stanage Edge

Before climbing over the stile onto the moor, the Kapitan read out the information on a warning sign that said there was a tick infestation on this part of the moorland. I was the only one wearing shorts today. I felt a bit exposed. We climbed up gradually to the quarry workings at Stanage End. As soon as we reached the top of the edge, we started to meet walkers and runners. There were climbers on the edge too. It was an easy and pleasant walk southwards. There were fine views westwards towards the Snake Pass, Kinder Scout and the Edale Valley. Further south was a tremendous view along the long deep valley towards Hathersage. Stanage Edge always impresses. It’s the way it marches along the edge of the Hallam Moor's plateau towards the horizon, a little like a natural Hadrian’s Wall. The trig point at High Neb appeared and we stopped to take a summit photo. The track made a slight descent before reaching the Long Causeway, an ancient packhorse route,  that led us away from the edge and towards Stanedge Pole (OS Map spelling). There was a tall wooden pole, supported by a metal brace, plonked amongst the boulders on the summit. Even now, the skies looked threatening as I took the last Ethel summit photo of the day. We continued down the Long Causeway to the Redmire reservoirs. 

Return

We met a few cyclists making their way up and down the Long Causeway. One cycle was a recumbent model and the rider was actually rotating the pedals with his hands. It looked like hard work on this terrain and gradient. As we reached the road along the reservoir, I checked my V02Max on my Suunto Vertical smart watch and was delighted to find that my physical fitness had now improved by one year to that of a 36 to 38 year old. I decided it was best not to announce this amazing news and to reignite this morning’s debate again with my ill informed, closed-minded fellow walkers. I must admit that I had one particular doubt about it though; in the latter days of my career, I worked with a 37 year old who was overweight, a type-2 diabetic and smoked like a chimney. Maybe a 36 to 38 year old rating wasn’t such a good rating after all.          

I was surprised to find that there were still parking spaces available in the Redmires carpark. Maybe the weather and the end of the school summer holidays had put people off venturing out. It was good to get out and do some walking rather than running. The Cabin Boy had demonstrated her prowess at diving, although I suggested that for future attempts she would fare better adjacent to a  pool with a good depth of water, rather than a grassy ditch. The route had been a familiar one with its familiar sights, but when the views include the magnificent Stanage Edge, I’m not going to complain.