Captain's Log

Red Sky In The Morning...

The eastern sky was a blotchy red as I drove southwards across the Strines. It had turned a more delicate pink by the time I reached the roadside parking along the A57, just before the Ladybower Viaduct. It was a shame I’d not arrived a little earlier and  got some good sunrise photos. Even so, the pink sky was pretty enough and the light reflected pleasantly on the surface of the Ladybower Reservoir. A handful of walkers were booting up and a couple of cyclists were unloading their bikes. I set off for the trail along the eastern edge of Ladybower Reservoir.    

Today’s walk was quite simply a circuit of the portion of the Ladybower Reservoir that heads northwards up the Derwent Valley. It would be just under 6 miles. The last remnants of flu/covid was dragging its feet as it left my body and so I didn’t want to overdo it. I’ve walked the circuit many times and knew it to be a flat, easy walk. I’d follow the eastern edge of Ladybower Reservoir until I reached the Derwent Dam. From there I’d return along the western edge of the reservoir. It wasn’t frosty, but there was a chill in the air and so I put on my new Rab power-stretch gloves (an early Christmas present to myself) and fleece hat. 

Eastern Edge

I’d brought my two Canon compact cameras with me today; a G7x MkII and my new SX740 HS. I’d use the G7x for landscape shots and the SX740 for any wildlife along the way. It was still quite dark as I set off and so it wasn't the best lighting conditions along the reservoir track. The pink sky I’d seen from the viaduct, didn’t follow me up the valley and the morning seemed to get duller. At least there wasn't any mist on the hill tops. The weather forecasters said that there would be rain by midday, but I planned to be back at the car well before then.  

It was Squirrel City in the woodland alongside the path. They were all grey Squirrels and were busy with their breakfasts and storing food. I could get fairly close without them seeming to notice me. As soon as one of them did though, he scarpered up a tree and the others quickly followed. I was finding it hard to change the shutter speed dial on my SX740 with my gloves on. I’d warmed up a bit now and so I decided to take my gloves off and I shoved them in my pocket.  

Apart from the squirrels there were plenty of birds along the trail. Robins were accommodating by posing on posts and branches. Chaffinches were doing well too. I was surprised when one flew on to the trail and then proceeded to hop towards me. It ended up about a metre away before it flew off. I’m not sure whether it was short-sighted or maybe just asking me for food. I could see a few wild fowl on the reservoir, with some of them flying above the water from time to time. I’d see the occasional ripples on the reservoir’s surface from fish jumping out of the water. 

Derwent Lane

I reached the inlet where Mill Brook empties into the reservoir. An information board described how Derwent village was submerged in the 1940s to create the reservoir. This summer had been so dry that the reservoir emptied and revealed the foundations of the houses of the old village. I’d seen a couple of YouTubes where somebody had walked into the middle of the empty reservoir and taken a tour of the revealed village. I’d promised to pay a visit myself, but for various reasons I never got around to it. Given the way things are going, I’m sure there’ll be plenty of other opportunities to pay a visit in future years. The only visitors today were a couple of Pied Wagtails that were paddling along the reservoir’s side looking for food. I approached them to take a better photo and one of them flew on to a section of a tree trunk that was just poking up out of the water. The image of the bird was reflected nicely in the still water. I asked the Wagtail if he’d just mind looking over his right shoulder to add a bit of action to the photo. He obliged me without any problems. 

I was on the tarmac of Derwent Lane now. Some farmers were rounding some sheep up in one of the fields. Another farmer passed me on his ATV. His Collie dog was riding pillion and the farmer held onto his collar, presumably in order to prevent the hound leaping on me. There were a few houses along the lane, but there weren’t any people about. The road descended towards Derwent Dam and then bent around to reveal the view of that amazing wall holding back all that water of the Derwent Reservoir. I always feel a bit vulnerable standing in the firing line of dams. I once saw the recent damage caused by a glacial dam burst in Nepal. The torrent of water caused devastation for miles and miles down the valley. 

Return

After I’d taken a photo of the dam, I put my camera back into my jacket pocket. For some reason, I checked that I’d still got my gloves in my trouser pocket. I pulled one out, but couldn’t find the other. I checked all my other pockets and couldn’t find the missing one. Damn! I must have dropped it somewhere along the trail. I was gutted. The Rab power stretch gloves had been a £30 Christmas present to myself. Ho-hum. My intention had been to return along the western side of Ladybower Reservoir, but I decided to retrace my steps along the eastern side to see if I could find the missing glove. I set off at a pace. 

I have to confess that it put a damper on the day. It was annoying that it had happened with a pair of new gloves. I’ve got other pairs that are battered, worn and with holes; I wouldn’t have minded if I’d lost one of those. My attention was glued to the trail and its sides as I walked quickly back. The landscape and wildlife didn’t hold an attraction for me anymore. The day got greyer and duller too. Mist started to cap the tops of the hills. Maybe the rain was going to start sooner than the weather forecasters predicted. 

I actually thought that there would be a reasonable chance of finding the glove again. I’d only met a handful of people along the trail. If I come across dropped clothing, I generally leave it where it is or put it on a post or wall to make it visible. Hopefully everybody else would do the same. I couldn’t really imagine that anybody would pick up and take away one dropped glove. What use would it be to them? I reached the spot where I’d put them in my trouser pocket earlier in the morning and I still hadn’t found it.  My final hope was that somebody had picked it up and placed it near the access gate to the trail near the A57. I approached the gate with hope, which was then dashed when I found it gloveless. I finally admitted to myself that my glove was a ‘gonner.’ Ho-hum.

There was no doubt that the loss of the glove tainted the enjoyment of the walk somewhat. To be fair, apart from the pink-cloud start, the morning had been rather gloomy and not the best for views. It was nice to see the abundance of wildlife along the trail though. Maybe a Magpie picked my glove up and now has a rather warm carpet to her nest.