Captain's Log

Dad's Favourite Walk

My Dad passed away earlier this year. He loved to go for walks and one of his favourites was a circular route around the Edale valley between the villages of Hope and Edale. I thought that I might complete this walk at least once a year in memory of him. Time was running out for 2025 and so I decided to do the walk today. My Dad wasn’t particularly good at navigating and he basically followed routes from memory. He was a member of The Ramblers and disappeared every Sunday to walk with them. Consequently he was never short of routes, although sometimes his memory and route finding fell a little short. One route he loved though was this one around the Edale Valley. I often used to join him on this walk and so have completed it countless times. 

For some reason, we always started this walk at the public carpark in Hope. This meant we had to follow the road out of Hope before heading up to the summit of Lose Hill. We’d then follow the Great Ridge to Hollins Cross, before dropping down to Edale. There were variants of the walk at this point; we’d either climb to the Kinder Scout Plateau and follow its edge eastwards. More often though, we’d stick mostly to the valley and field-hop to the Youth Hostel. This was the option I’d choose today. At Jagger’s Clough, we’d follow a bridleway upwards to Hope Cross. A track would then take us gradually downhill, before reaching the road back to Hope. 

Hope

It was still dark as I set off from Hope’s carpark. There were only two more days before the shortest daylight day of the year. I used my headtorch as I walked along Edale Road out of the village. There was actually just enough light to see, but I wanted to let oncoming traffic know that there was a pedestrian on the road. I walked along the road for about 10 minutes before branching on to Lose Hill Lane. The last few days had been very rainy. A roadside grate was working in reverse as water gushed out of it, flowed across the road and tumbled into a field. I joined the footpath that was the start of the climb up Lose Hill. It used to be quite muddy and slippery along this stretch, but somebody had improved it somewhat with the addition of some limestone chips. I soon escaped the trees and the views opened up. It was a lighter now and I could see the summit of Win Hill across the valley. I plodded onwards on the gradual grassy ascent. 

I reached the ridge and this opened up views down to the Hope Valley on the other side. The sun had now risen and the landscape started to glow in warm colours. I could now see the steep slope of Mam Tor over to the west. The ridge had also introduced a strong south westerly and this assisted me up the stone steps to the summit of Lose Hill. 

Lose Hill

It always seems to be windy on the top of Lose Hill. Today was no exception. At 462 metres high, the hill has a wonderful 360 degree view of the surrounding landscape. There’s a toposcope on a circular stone support to help identify hills and features. Its name is attributed to the outcome of a legendary 7th century Battle of Win Hill. Win Hill is the hill over to the east. According to legend, Edwin of Northumberland gathered his troops on the summit of Win Hill, where they built a temporary wall as a means of defence in the face of an anticipated attack from the troops of Cynegils of Wessex, who were camped on the summit of Lose Hill. It seems that Cynegils had the advantage of numbers and charged up Win Hill, but were crushed when Edwin’s men rolled boulder down on to them. It is said that the River Noe running along the bottom of the valley flowed red with blood. The academic chin-rubbers have stated that there is absolutely no credible evidence of any of this. Spoil sports.    

The OS map identifies the summit as Lose or Ward’s Piece. The land was bought by members of Sheffield's rambling community in 1945 to honour G.H.B. Ward, who established the country’s first working-class rambler’s club. Mr Ward immediately handed the land over to the National Trust with the declaration’ …he had never been a landowner and did not wish to become one.’ He sounds like he was a good chap. 

I steadied myself in the wind to take a few photos and then headed off along The Great Ridge towards Back Tor.

The Great Ridge

The Great Ridge is a geological barrier that separates the peaty, gritstone moorlands of the Dark Peak to the north and the limestone landscape of the White Peak to the south. It offers great views over the Edale Valley to the north, and the Hope Valley to the south. Not surprisingly the path along the top of the ridge between Lose Hill and Mam Tor is very popular. It wasn’t even 09:00 am, but there were still many walkers along the ridge. 

I stopped to admire the amazing view of the Edale Valley from the  craggy top of Back Tor. Patches of sun floated across the slopes of the hills that support the Kinder Scout Plateau. I could see the village of Edale nestled in the valley. It was a steep descent down the stone staircase at Back Tor, made more difficult by the strong cross wind. I made it safely to the bottom and continued along the ridge. 

Hollins Cross

Hollins Cross is the lowest point on the ridge. It formed part of the ‘Coffin Road’ between Edale and Castleton. The villagers of Edale would carry their deceased over the ridge to the parish church in Castleton for burial…until 1633, when Edale got its own churchyard. It must have been a difficult business carrying a coffin over this pass since the hillside is reasonably steep on both sides. There used to be a cross here, but that disappeared by 1905. There is now a memorial to Tom Hyett, erected by the Rambler’s Association. 

I headed down the hillside towards Edale. As soon as I dropped down from the ridge, I lost the wind. I thought I might be in for some trouble with some cattle in the field below, but they all congregated near some dilapidated buildings. The ground was terribly muddy along this stretch. A fence had fallen down and it was so muddy some of the barbed wire had disappeared into the mud. Inevitably my right foot caught in some submerged barbed wire and I ended up landing on my front. Fortunately, only my gloves suffered the worst of the dirt. I was fortunate that the barbed wire didn’t rip my boot and, come to think of it, my leg.    

I crossed a bridge over the River Noe on what was probably the muddiest track in the Peak District. I’d given up trying to keep clean now and so just waded through it. I was in the bottom of the valley and I joined the network of footpaths that field-hopped its way across the road, under the railway line and over Grinds Brook, to the village of Edale. 

Edale

It was rare that we’d ever have a pint at the The Old Nags Head when I used to do this walk with my Dad. Probably, it was because I was still at school. My Dad wasn’t much of a drinker anyway. I remember the embarrassment of not being served in the pub when I was 16. I’d turned up with some school friends on the evening before we set off on the Pennine Way. The landlord was having none of it though and we got our marching orders. 

It had only turned 10:00 am and so there was no hope of getting a pint today. With Lose Hill and the Great Ridge behind you, it always feels like you’ve cracked the route when you reach Edale, although in reality, you’ve not even reached halfway. The return journey from Edale to Hope is longer and surprisingly undulating.  

Edale Valley

It started off easy and flat enough as I set off along a farm track through fields. Patches of sun illuminated the slopes of Kinder Scout. There was a tremendous view back over the valley to the Great Ridge and Lose Hill.  I walked through the collection of buildings at Ollerbrook Booth. Cattle munched contentedly on a stack of hay in a barn. The track continued to some more buildings at Nether Ollerbrook. I escaped the farm track and crossed a soggy field to some woodlands. I skirted their northern edge. I’d gained a little height now and this opened up some great views in both directions along the valley. A wonderful grassy path followed the contour of the hill until I reached Edale Youth Hostel. A couple of workers were busy banging a wooden pole into the ground. They looked happy enough in their work. I’m not a member of the YHA, but I figured that they wouldn’t mind if I used one of their patio tables, and I sat down at one for a coffee break. 

Refreshed, I crossed Lady Booth Brook and continued along a path that followed the contour of the hillside. This low level route along the Edale Valley doesn’t have the spectacle of the higher alternative along Kinder Scout’s southern edge, but it is definitely a pretty and enjoyable option. Beyond Clough Farm I picked up a farm track that took me uphill and then downhill into Jaggers Clough. 

Jaggers Clough

Jaggers Clough is named after the ‘Jaggers’, the medieval carriers or packhorse men who led large teams of pack animals across the Peak District. The ponies were of the Galloway or Jeagers (hence the name) variety. They carried lead, wool, salt and coal...and anything else that could be traded, I would expect. 

Given the amount of rain we’d had recently, I thought I might have a problem crossing the ford across the beck running down the clough, but it was shallow enough that I didn’t get wet feet. There was a long uphill section on the other side and I broke the effort up by taking a seat on a broken wall, to eat an apple. It wasn’t that I was too tired; my attention had been caught by a circling Buzzard that was being harassed by a Kestrel. I thought that if I sat down and waited, they might fly closer and I might be able to get a photo of them. I didn’t have any luck though and the Buzzard disappeared towards Lose Hill and the Kestrel to Win Hill. I continued the plod up to the bridleway to the top of the ridge. 

Hope Cross

Hope Cross stands on the ancient foundation of the Roman ridgeway known as Doctor’s Gate.  It is thought that it was built to link the Roman forts at Brough, near Hope (Navio) and Glossop (Melendra). The cross is medieval and about 2 metres tall. It was restored as a guidepost in 1717 and now has a capstone that indicates Sheffield, Glossop, Edale and Hope. There was an excellent view westwards from Hope Cross, down the wonderful Edale Valley, and also southwards towards Hope. A bridleway gradually took me down the hillside towards the bottom of the valley. It was a stony path and hard underfoot, but the views were a great distraction to any discomfort. I often used to come across motorbikes and even 4WDs making their way along this track, but I’ve not seen any for years. Maybe some law now prevents it. 

Return

The bridleway turned into tarmac and eventually it delivered me to the Edale Road. I crossed the River Noe using the Townhead Bridge and started walking back along the road towards Hope. There are sections along this road where there was no pavement, but it was safe enough. I passed a woman who was trying to reason with a youngster to walk along the road.

‘I’M NOT GOING. I’M STAYING HERE!’ screamed the tiny Tasmanian Devil. The woman kneeled down to eye level and asked him to calm down and to ‘...walk with Mummy.’

‘I DON’T WANT TO. I’M NOT GOING TO’ was the response.
Times have definitely changed. I don’t remember any rational reasoning when I was a kid. I knew it was in my interests not to argue.     

Hope’s village centre was a lot busier than this morning. It has cafes and pubs and is popular with bikers, both motorised and not. I enjoyed today's walk. It brought back many happy memories. It was a shame that my Dad wasn’t here to enjoy it with me. I'll definitely make it an annual event in memory of him.