Oxspring

On the other side of Oxspring I reached the wonderful Willow packhorse bridge. I stepped down close to the river Don to get a picture of it. After getting my camera setup, I steadied myself for the shot, and then saw a small round object floating on the surface, approaching from upstream. Zooming in with the camera I could see it was a green tennis ball. It probably would never been seen by anybody else on the photo, but I would know it was there, and so I waited a minute for it to float downstream and out of shot. Fortunately the sun didn't go in during this interval. It is thought that the bridge dates from the 18th century. It is surprisingly narrow when you cross it. They can't have strapped many goods to their packhorses in those days. On the other side, I left the TPT and joined a footpath that ran parallel to the river. I soon reached a field and the views opened up down the valley. Despite the mild conditions the landscape was still bathed in a dazzling white. The footpath brought me out at the southern end of Oxspring and at a far more modern road bridge.

Cheese Bottom

I continued on a footpath that followed the river Don downstream.  After spending yesterday shivering in the bushes, the birds were much more visible today and half a dozen Blue Tits landed on a nearby tree, foraged for a few seconds, and then set off again in search of food. The footpath brought me to the delightfully named Cheese Bottom <snigger, snigger>. As might be expected, the location contains a sewerage works, although it is fairly well hidden in trees and has no noticeable aroma (at least not today). There is a farm nearby that has a number of wonderful peacocks wandering around the buildings. The colours of their feathers were illuminated in the morning sun and looked amazing. I dragged myself away from these bizarre birds and plodded over a field towards the river Don. I'd crossed the river on some nearby stepping stones last week (see Hunshelf Gorse Maze Runner). There was a lot more water flowing down it today, that would make the  stepping stones a more interesting prospect. Fortunately, I didn't have to face that challenge today. 

Rumtickle Viaduct And The Tunnels

The Rumtickle Viaduct came into view. This is the old railway viaduct that now services the Sheffield leg of the TPT. There appears to be some debate as to its true name; I've seen the names Romticle and Romptickle also used. I rather like Rumtickle and so I'll stick to that.  It is quite a height. I once saw some people abseiling down from the top. Rather them than me. The footpath joined the TPT at the southern end of the viaduct.

My route now followed the TPT through the 282 metre long Thurgoland tunnel. There are actually two tunnels, with the eastern one being closed off. The original tunnel was opened in 1845. The tunnel is supposed to be haunted, but disappointingly,  I can't find any definitive evidence to support the claim. A few years back, I walked through here and heard a lot of clacking and snorting. I thought the four horsemen of the apocalypse were after me, and I was mightily relieved when a couple of earthly horse riders appeared around the bend in the tunnel. I had the tunnel to myself today (I think) and reached its southern end without any supernatural incident. It is actually possible to get into the other tunnel at the southern end, but I wouldn't recommend it. They've blocked off the tunnel with a mound of earth, but it is still possible to squeeze into it near the tunnel's roof.

Woodman's Valley

I left the TPT and headed towards the small village of Huthwaite. I took a footpath that ran along the back of some houses across Huthwaite Common. There was a stone wall on one side and a field on the other. The farmer had positioned the fence so close to the wall that it wasn't a comfortable path to walk along. I'm sure the farmer's realised some economic benefit of those few extra inches of land though, so we shouldn't complain. I was glad to leave this claustrophobic alley and drop down into the valley on the other side.

The Woodman's Valley is quite a pretty valley. I call it the Woodman's Valley because Woodman's Farm is at the northern end of it, but the valley itself has not been given a name on the OS map. There are a few cottages along the road. I looked up at an outhouse of one of them and thought I say a hand beckoning me. It turned out to be a false one, cunningly positioned to worry travellers along the road. Either that or the King was paying a visit.

Return On The TPT

The road brought me back to the TPT and I re-joined it near to the Rumtickle Viaduct. It was really quite warm now and the slush of this morning was now turning into puddles. The poor conditions had obviously dissuaded people from a Sunday stroll and the TPT was quite empty. Rather than the white blanket of fields that I'd seen this morning, the threadbare landscape was now showing its green underlay.  Apart from the puddles, my attention was now alert to avoiding dog shite. It seems that a fall of snow provides a convenient camouflage for pooches poop. The trail was covered in dollops of the stuff that was gradually being revealed as the snow melted. Yuk!

Yesterday, one of the footpaths had been blocked by fallen trees. The weight of snow had brought them down. A few small trees had fallen down on the TPT too, as well as branches being snapped off. It was a long, straight trail back to Penistone Station. This section of the TPT is still interesting though in that it is fairly elevated, and you do get views of the surrounding landscape.

I have to say that I prefer my snow icy, rather than slushy. Even so, the conditions didn't detract from an enjoyable walk. The  Peacocks at Cheese Bottom were dazzling and I survived the supernatural encounters in the Thurgoland Tunnel. You couldn't ask for more, really.