LEJOG 2015
Buxton Monday 18 May 2015
It's amazing how quickly the landscape can change as you gain height. For the first three hours this morning, I climb (albeit gently) as the rolling Staffordshire scenery is replaced by the altogether more hard nosed Derbyshire Peak District.
The views would be fantastic - if I could see them. I emerged from the warmth of Hermitage farm full of their delicious breakfast into a light rain. The rain gathers intensity as I climb up. By the time I reach Morridge Moor Ridge the visibility is occasionally down to around 100 metres. Cloud surrounds me and it's cold enough to see my breath. I'm warm enough, except for my hands. I need some gloves. I can't help thinking of friends and family all cozy in their warm, toasty offices. A smile breaks out over my face and I stop, turn to face the way back so the wind is out of my face, spread my arms wide and shout a loud, long Alan Partridge "AAAHHHH HAAAA!!!!!" I wouldn't be anywhere else at this moment.
At one point the cloud is blowing across the road and I catch glimpses of a house in front of me. As I get nearer it appears to be the "Local Shop" from the League of Gentlemen. It's the spitting image. I wish I could take a photo but my hands are too cold and I'm still scared of getting my phone wet. Try this instead:
Eventually the weather eased, and I reached the village of Flash. There are signs claiming it to be the highest village in the British Isles at 1519 feet above sea level. It's cold enough to be true. My hands are completely numb. As I cross the busy A53 shortly after, there appears, like a mirage, a cafe. Hot chocolate and a Danish restore my circulation. The rest of the walk into Buxton is dry, and the sun shows itself occasionally. I find a outdoors shop and buy some water proof gloves, and a compass. I've stupidly kept mine in my pocket near my phone, and de - magnetised it. Kenonymous has sorted a room at the Old Manse Guesthouse which is warm and very comfortable.
Ken's beer of the day is staying with Peakstones Rock Brewery: "have a pint of this Black Hole. After 3 weeks in the sun, it seems to describe you rather well :-)"
Thank you so much Ken.
Buxton is a splendid town. It has grand architecture, an opera house, caves, public spaces, music and theatre festivals, amongst many other atttractions:
A short day tomorrow. Wet again in the morning. I might just put my tent up...
Edale Tuesday 19 May 2015
Start: Buxton
Finish: Edale
Miles walked today: 11
Total miles: 428
To quote Churchill: "Now this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning."
It's around 4 pm and the rain is beating a tattoo against the fabric of my tent. I'm lying down typing this inside the tent although there is no signal here in Edale. I plan to head over to the Nags Head a little later to see how their wifi situation is.
Edale! The start of the Pennine Way - a trail which will take me 270 miles north and across the border into Scotland. Fingers crossed.
It's raining as I walk away from Elizabeth's lovely B&B. By the time I get to the edge of Buxton, it's turned to hail. Whatever next? I stride across a deserted track wondering where it will take me. Across a golf course, apparently...
The hail reverts to rain and for the rest of today's short walk it's a very mixed bag of weather. Occasional sun, sharp showers, and some strong gusts of wind. I skirt around the impressive Mam Tor, and drop down into Edale.
The very expensive water proof gloves I purchased yesterday worked very well. No more numb hands. When I asked the proprietor of the shop if he had any water proof gloves, I half expected him to go to the back of the store and return with a pair of yellow Marigolds. That's what I'd have done, anyway...
Thanks to the r/unitedkingdom for your support and to the mysterious Mrs of Old Basing. I'd like to know who you are... :)
Later... The Nags Head is perfect. Their fish finger sandwich is to die for. Ethan, behind the bar, chats to me enthusiastically about walking and life in general, and his job at the pub (two months in). He's a natural with people, has the right words for each customer, and will go far in life. I'm touched when he asked me to contact him if I want a walking partner.
Crowden Wednesday 20 May 2015
Start: Edale
Finish: Crowden
Miles walked today: 16
Total miles: 444
A night under canvas! How romantic that sounds. Factor in wind and rain, and maybe not so. One of those nights when you listen to the comedy at 11.00 pm on Radio 4, then Westminster Hour, then the shipping forecast, then the World Service programmes. Perhaps I got a couple of hours sleep...AAAHHHH HAAAAA!!!
In the morning I wait for the rain to stop for a moment, and pack everything away. Off I go towards the Nags Head and the official start of the Pennine Way (PW). It is, to be frank, a tough day. Some steep climbs, and cold wind and some rain. The views are obscured by clouds, sometimes visibility is down to 100 metres.
I encounter several walkers, it's good to exchange pleasantries in an inhospitable landscape. Unlike the lake district, there are no distinct peaks here, just flat (ish) moorland tops. Eventually I drop down towards my destination - the reservoir near Crowden. As I descend, I hear disembodied voices. I look all round, and then see three men floating in the air on top of a huge pylon. It looks quite surreal.
The campsite at Crowden is very good. No charge for a hot shower either. No wifi and no phone signal though. The camp site lady did give me hot water for a pot noodle from her shop. Luxury... I chat to a fellow camper, Chris, who is doing the PW, and also to a couple of lads walking past who are wild camping and navigating only with Google maps on their iPhone. They must be mad :) What it is to be young...
I'm in my sleeping bag by 7.00 pm and listen to the Archers. I'm relatively warm thanks to Chris's lovely sleeping bag liner. It's silk, takes up no space, but seems to have an insulating effect. Good night all.
Standedge Thursday 21 May 2015
Start: Crowden
Finish: Standedge
Miles walked today: 13
Total miles: 457
A miracle! I slept all night. And the tent is dry which makes getting packed and going so much easier. Chris is preparing for the day and we set off together. He is an experienced walker and an excellent companion. Like most PW days, the start is a steep climb. Not much chatting from me as breathing is hard enouh but later I find out Chris is a retired fireman from Cambridge, around my age. The wind is still chilly today, but it's clear and dry. We meet one or two walkers along the way.
At Standedge there is a pub around a kilometre off the PW with a campsite. At the bus stop next to the pub are the two young men from last night. They are calling it a day and heading back to Liverpool.
Tent up, shower (50p lasts ages) then a walk back up the road to get a signal. I speak to Tina, and Lesley, who gives me the good news that she should be able to meet me at Hebden Bridge tomorrow!
Back to the pub, which is now open, and a delicious meal with Chris. I am introduced to Titanic stout - truly a red letter day...
Three nights in a row in my tent!
Hebden Bridge Friday 22 May 2015
Start: Standedge
Finish: Hebden Bridge
Miles walked today: 15
Total miles: 472
Brian is one of those people blessed with natural charisma. He's also got a vocabulary which is a little - ahem - colourful. "**** me, another ****ing walker" he cries from behind the counter of his snack wagon, parked in a layby where the Pennine Way and the A672 intersect. A crowd of truckers huddled under the awning eating bacon sandwiches and drinking tarry tea snigger.
"They never spend **** all, either!" (Insert your own expletives every three or four words from now on. You get the idea.)
He has the whole crowd in the palm of his hand. Pouring tea with one hand, turning bacon and eggs on the hot plate with the other, he keeps up a machine gun rat a tat tat of wonderful banter.
"Did you want black pudding with that?" he asks a trucker from Leicester, "Make your mind up!"
"Coffee and a bacon and egg roll," he says, confirming my order. I pay up.
"No tip!!!!" He exclaims, "Typical!!"
I tell him that I enjoyed my visit ten years ago so much that I felt I had to return. He reminds the assembled throng that he's been in that layby for 38 years.
"I'm famous, I am. Been on all the TV shows. Coronation Street, Emmerdale, and in that **** Wallington's book!"
"Come on, one minute to go" he tells new arrivals. Apparently, he likes to finish at 11 am. Not surprising, if he starts at 4.00 am. No weekends any more, either. I raise my phone and tell him I'm going to take his photo.
"**** off, it'll cost you £45.00 for a snap of me,"
He makes a pantomime of running up and down behind the counter to avoid my lens, then poses with tea pot and cup to make sure I do get a good shot.
I have to say that apart from visits from family and friends, this is perhaps the highlight of the last four weeks. Brian is exactly the same as he was ten years ago. There is something surreal but wonderful to walk out of the cold wind and rain and fog and find Brian's oasis smelling of bacon and tea.
The day started with fog and a wet tent. I did sleep well and awoke quite late. Chris was packing up at the same time as me, but I set off up the hill to the path before him to get a phone signal and find out if Lesley (my lovely daughter) had managed to get some accomodation for us. If so, she would meet up with me tonight.
Lesley had succeeded. But not at my destination, Hebden Bridge. The nearest she could book was a B&B in Todmorden. No problem. I'd walk to Hebden Bridge and get the train the four miles back.
I set off along the path. Not such a steep climb today. Visibility was around 75 to 100 metres. There was a wind from the west blowing drizzle across my face. Chris never did catch me up, so good luck to you Chris and I hope to see you further along the Pennine Way. I did meet Martin walking the opposite way with his friend. He has done LEJOG in....
28 DAYS!!!
He must be made of steel.
I walked the rest of the way into Hebden Bridge with Mike, a Mancunian Pennine Way-er. We passed the huge Stoodley Pike Monument perched on the edge of a ridge. Truly massive, it stands 38 metres tall, yet we couldn't see it through the fog until we almost bumped into it.
At HB, I got a coffee, then made my way to the station, and asked for a ticket to Todmorrrrrrden. The ticket man said that I might have a little trouble with Yorkshire folk if I pronounced it that way.
"It's Todmadon, or Tod" he kindly advised me. I was duly grateful.
Lesley and I met up at the delightful Lindores B&B. It is so good to see her. After hugging and catching up with each other's news we hit the town. The Golden Lion to be precise. There was a live guitar duo belting out numbers which we knew, and excellent food. Perfect.
