Captain's Log

Abbey Brook

Daylight was my alarm bell at 05:45. It wasn't one of my best night’s sleep. I’d woken up half a dozen times due to either one of my arse cheeks being cold. The one that I wasn’t laying on, just to be clear. I was using my Mountain Equipment Helium 250 that was supposed to be suitable up to 1°C and I was pretty sure it didn’t get down to that temperature last night. My feet, legs and torso were perfectly toasty; it was just my arse cheeks. Thinking it through logically, I could only put it down to their substantial surface area and the inability of my blood vessels to deliver warm blood to them. I made a mental note to discuss this with my GP, the next time I had the misfortune to see him. I woke up warm, probably because I was laying on my back rather than my side and I was reluctant to start the process of packing up. At 06:00, I couldn’t wait any longer and extricated myself from my sleeping bag. As I did this, I heard the first patter of rain on my tent. It wouldn’t stop for the rest of the day.     

I was on the second day of my Mini Venture from Edale to Penistone. On the first day I’d walked from Edale to my wildcamp spot at Abbey Brook (see the Captain’s Log, Edale To Abbey Brook By The Hagg). Today’s walk would involve a steep climb out of Abbey Brook and then some mostly trackless yomping to Margery Hill. From there, I’d take the Cut Gate path to Langsett. Originally, I’d intended to field-hop my way to Penistone railway station, but the weather turned out so bad that I stuck to the roads instead. 

Margery Hill

I was away for 07:15 and started with a precarious traverse of the brook. The incessant rain we’d had since Christmas meant that there was plenty of water tumbling down and I had to take my chance stepping on slimy rocks where one false move would have meant plunging into the water at least up to my knees. I was grateful to get to the other side, but not as grateful for the steep, tough ascent to escape the valley. The higher I got, the more the wind increased, peppering me with driving rain.The tops were covered in clag. I find this area of the Dark Peak surprisingly confusing in terms of navigation. Especially when it's misty. Some of the tracks look like decent prospects, but then soon disappear. Although the moors aren’t impenetrable, some of the off-piste walking is through heather and clumpy grass and so reasonably difficult. The south westerly was driving the rain directly into my face too making it hard to see where I was going. It seemed to take an age to reach Wet Stones and its nearby Tweed Trouser Brigade’s bunkers. 

I made my way across to Howden Edge, although the edge itself was lost in the mist. The wind and rain was now hitting me from the side, rather than the front which made things a little bit easier. The edge seemed to make the wind even stronger though and it nearly blew me over a couple of times. I drifted away from the edge, onto the path to Margery Hill in the hope that the wind would reduce. It did ease a little bit, but it was still tough going across the bogs. Eventually, I reached the large stones a little to the southeast of Margery Hill’s summit. I camped here last week (see Captains Log, Marching To Margery Hill). I had a 5 minute break using the large stones to shelter me from the wind. I was only delaying the inevitable though and put my head above the parapet and staggered towards the trig point on Margery Hill. Not surprisingly, I was the only one there. I headed across a logic puzzle of bogs towards Cut Gate. 

Cut Gate

As I descended into the shallow gulley that forms Cut Gate I was amazed to find a woman walking towards me from the north. Somebody else was fool enough to be out in these conditions too. We exchanged ‘hellos’ and she continued onwards and downwards into the Upper Derwent valley. Even though the Cut Gate cutting was shallow, it eliminated most of the wind. Unfortunately it couldn’t do the same for the rain. I headed northwards along its stony and sometimes flooded track. It weaved its way through the moors without really giving you a good view of them. I knew it was going to happen, but when I dropped down to the south end of Mickleden Edge, the strong wind and driving rain started again. This edge always seems to catch the bad weather somehow. Halfway along the edge I met a bare legged fell runner making his way up. Rather him than me. I always seemed to be on the brink of being blown over. Conditions improved a little as I dropped off the edge and made my way over to Hingcliff Common. The wind dropped a tad and it even brightened up a bit. The rain didn’t stop though. I came across a number of stalwart walkers coming the other way. They looked as though they were walking the circuit around Langsett Reservoir. Near Delf Edge I met a woman with a tiny baby in a carrier pouch on her front. I couldn’t ever imagine taking a baby out in these conditions. At last, I reached the woods around the reservoir and I had some permanent shelter from the wind and rain. It was a pleasant walk along the trail along the north side of the reservoir, although from past experience, it’s best to keep a canny eye out for dog shite. Incredibly, the carpark at Langsett was almost full. The bad weather hadn’t put people off coming out. 

Penistone

My original idea was to field hop to Penistone railway station, but I’d seen enough water and mud to last me a good while. I opted for a road walk instead. I climbed the zig-zag of Gilbert Hill and followed the Fullshaw road northwards. At the crossroads with the A628, I turned right and headed towards Hartcliff Hill. Halfway up it, I met an open topped vintage car making its way down. I couldn’t make out whether the driver had windscreen wipers on his goggles. Normally there’s a great view southwards across the moors from the top of Hartcliff Hill, but I could only see mist today. I continued over the summit and then downhill along Hartcliffe Road into Penistone. I was glad that I’d chosen a drier road route rather than traversing fields. When I say ‘drier’, it was still very wet though. I entered the town and made my way to the railway station to conclude the Venture.

The wind and rain had been relentless today. I was thoroughly soaked. It was a shame since the route offered great views under better conditions. It was such a contrast with yesterday, when I’d been lucky enough to have blue skies and sunshine. Despite the dodgy weather, the Edale Penistone Directish Venture had been an enjoyable two day outing. All I had to do now was to check the cheeks of my arse in a mirror to see if I’d suffered any lasting effects of frostbite during last night’s disturbed sleep.