Kinder Scout via Crowden Clough

 

Hi readers. Sybil and I ventured out to the Peak District yesterday. It's been way too long since we last visited the park, and I was determined to make the best use of an otherwise empty Sunday.

We left the busy train at Edale, after Sybil had, of course, made friends with most of the passengers and train staff. Her habit of sitting on my knee in order to look out of the window always manages to bring a few smiles and friendly comments; at 20kg, she isn't your typical lapdog.

Our destination today was the plateau of Kinder Scout. I wanted to climb this via the less busy route of Crowden Clough. We joined the Pennine Way out of Edale and headed towards Upper Booth Farm. Today the farm was pretty much deserted, save for a few chickens pecking around, as it is still fairly early in the walking season.

A few hardy campers had pitched their tents in the field. Rather them than me, personally, as even my flat gets pretty cold during the early spring nights. Mind you, I am rather strict when it comes to turning the heating on.

We soon reached Crowden Clough. The path here winds rather lazily through the valley alongside, and sometimes through, the thankfully fairly shallow stream that is Crowden Brook. What the stream lacks in depth, it more than makes up for in natural beauty, particularly in the form of waterfalls. Here are a few pitiful attempts at photographing them:

Sybil, however, isn't too keen on getting her feet wet, and sometimes convincing her to cross the stream was a job in itself.

Hmm, really not too sure Mum. It looks all wet.

Is there a boat somewhere?

There is certainly no water-loving breed in this dog's genetic makeup. Posing, however, is a different story; that is, if you can get her to sit still for long enough.

Stopping for a quick rest.

Come on, Mum. The path goes this way.

The final scramble on the plateau was a huge undertaking for someone of my (non) fitness level. The path was so steep in places, and the footholds were far enough apart to make me glad I was blessed with such long legs. The large stack of rocks that is Crowden Tower loomed above me, drawing me forward by reassuring me that I was almost at the top. I had a vision of the tower being an optical illusion, that upon reaching it I would be confronted by another sizeable hill to climb before I crested the summit.

It's that a-way

Thankfully this was not the case; instead, the scene that greeted us was rather breathtaking. Rocks of every size, shape and texture dotted the plateau, some smooth and flat, whittled down by years of  rain, wind and snow; whilst others were huge, round boulders, taller than I was and three times as wide.

We rounded the corner, sticking to the most obvious footpath, only for myself to sink straight up to my calves in a huge patch of boggy peat. Sybil's delicate paws barely dented the surface, yet my not inconsiderable weight swallowed my feet and ankles whole. I proceeded to perform a strange kind of shuffle-walk, trying to walk forward without loosing either of my boots. Finally managing to reach firm ground again, I was relieved to see that we were heading towards a thoughtfully constructed flagstone path.

 



We passed through the amazing landscape that is the Woolpacks, a collection of misshapen rocks even more curious than those we had already encountered. The magnificence of them could not be captured by my amateurish photography skills, but the image that my mind conjured up was that the landscape was rather moon-like in atmosphere. Of course, never having been to the moon, I am less than qualified to compare the two, but it certainly is worth going up Kinder Scout to appreciate it.

 

Pym Chair, I believe?

Nice place for a lunch break



We stopped for lunch beneath another huge tower of rock I believe to be known as Pym Chair (please correct me if I'm wrong). The view was one not to be sniffed at as I sat and scoffed my sandwiches, watching people in the distance climbing the monstrosity that is Jacob's Ladder. With the mist beginning to roll out behind us, I decided that we shouldn't linger and curved round to meet the top of the Ladder. Descending this way with Sybil on lead was not really an experience I would like to repeat, but nonetheless we managed to reach the bottom unscathed and I let Sybil refresh herself in the river near the bridge before we joined the path back to Edale.

 

Rather delicately taking a dip

A helicopter suddenly appeared over the hill as we began our journey back to the village. I know the guys are doing some restoration work on Kinder, so hopefully this helicopter was involved in that work and not rescuing someone from the now mist-enshrouded summit.

   

With an hour and a half to wait until the train home arrived and now that Sybil was of drinking age, I decided to risk taking her in her first ever pub. I peered around the pub door rather nervously, mentally mapping out where all the other dogs were sat. I had little reason to worry though, as my usually leash-reactive Sybil was quickly making friends with another collie once she realised that well-behaved dogs got delicious chips.

 

She also got a fair share of the treats from other customers; in fact, one customer crouched in front of her to ask her to sit and give paw for a biscuit, and she rather shamelessly threw herself against him for a cuddle, eliciting the desired aww's from the room. My dog can be such a creep, sometimes.