Area : Crinkle Crags

Party : D. Thompson, M. Charnock, J. Hibbert, R. Collier, P. Proctor, D. Morris, R. Morris, P. Brookes, Ellie the Westie. 

Our choice of Crinkle Crags on a later than normal date in October necessitated good weather and amazingly we were in luck as we assembled at the Old Dungeon Ghyll car park in the Langdale Valley. It was absolutely beautiful making navigation relatively straightforward in an area which can be tricky in bad conditions. We had opted for Wainwright’s preferred route which took us up the slope of Side Pike. Beyond the road we gained the open fell rising gradually for a mile to the rocky top of Pike Of Blisco with it’s distinctive cairn on top. Our chosen route was hard walking underfoot, very rocky with little flat ground, as we discovered on the descent to Red Tarn. Four paths converge at this point and our chosen route took us up to the crags of Great Knott with the first Crinkle, now in sight ahead. Rough and rocky was the order of the day with many cairns to keep walkers on the right track.

As we progressed the third Crinkle was seen ahead rising like a pyramid from a desert of stones and a pathless scramble over boulders was necessary to reach it’s summit at 2740ft. Views of the whole area with blue skies and October sunshine were spectacular looking towards the Sca Fell’s. To our left we had a fine view of Bowfell and as we approached the fourth and fifth Crinkle the view to our right were the green fields of Great Langdale in contrast to the wilderness of stones.

' Leave Me Here '

Decision time as we arrived at Three Tarns and David and Richard decided to push on up Bow Fell while the rest of our party decided to drop off and descend via the Band. I had already got cramp following the stretching over the Bad Step and Reg was quick to join me. On the descent Peter also had a very severe attack and his cries of pain echoed around the valley. This resulted into comedy as Jeff and Martin took a Proctor leg each and as Peter lay on the deck applied vigorous massage to ease the pain. A number of further applications were required during the long descent into the Langdale Valley and Martin nobly carried both his own and Peter’s rucksack back to the Dungeon Ghyll Hotel.

Peter generously stood a round of drinks as we sat in the packed beer garden and reflected on what had been a tough but magical walk. Pleasure continued into the evening where we were able to share memories with Ken Lord’s party and enjoy an excellent meal and evening at the Crooklands Hotel – but that’s another story.

Peter Brookes

Introduction

For 2011 it had been decided that the Crown long distance walk should take place in North Yorkshire, a region of England that often seems to have been ignored by the walking fraternity. Last year we followed Mark Reid’s excellent ’ Inn Way To Derbyshire ‘, so it seemed very logical to also follow his ‘ Inn Way to the North York Moors ‘. This provides a very interesting 90 mile circular walk through some outstanding scenery. Rivers, vales, woods are all interspersed with wonderful little hamlets, very ancient churches and majestic country houses.

Party :-  Peter Brookes, Peter Proctor, Colin Billiet, Martin Anderton, Jeff Hibbert, Bob Stanfield, Theo Dibbits, Reg Collier, Dave Thompson.

The Start

We assembled in Helmsley on Sunday 5th June, had a fine dinner at the ’ Feathers Hotel ‘ and then retired to our accommodation, the welcoming ‘ Carlton Lodge ‘. There we pondered what lay ahead of us in the week ahead. A little whisky was taken to celebrate the start of another long distance walk. ( Fortunately Peter Proctor had managed to obtain a litre of Coop Whisky from a local supermarket, just in case of emergencies.) It proved invaluable, but sadly did not last long. Fortunately others had brought ample supplies.

The Walk

Regrettably this write-up will not be as long as in previous years for the simple reason that I left most of my notes in a small but excellent B & B called the Broomhouse. So a summary will have to suffice. The walk took us on a circular trip as follows :

Day One, Monday June 6th. Helmsley to Hutton-Le- Hole

It proved to be 15 miles of easy walking terrain, with riverbanks and some moorland. There were some longish stretches of quiet country lanes, and altogether 2900 feet of ascent. The day was made extra special by our walk through Kirkdale where we made a wonderful discovery, a Saxon Minster called St. Gregory’s. It nestles in a sleepy hollow and is simply enchanting. It was full of atmosphere and had been there since 870 AD. It had a sundial that was installed in 1060 ! We were fortunate enough to meet the Church Warden, a splendid elderly gentleman who persuaded Theo and Colin to take some fresh photographs of the Sundial so that they could print some postcards  that they could sell in the Minster.

Colin had led in his normal confident manner, wearing the red Fez, as we all did throughout the week. Hutton-Le-Hole is considered by many to be one of the loveliest villages in the country, in the late afternoon it certainly didn’t disappoint.

We took dinner at the excellent ‘  Blacksmith’s Arms ‘ in the nearby village of Lastingham; It had good food and wonderful hosts who certainly provided an evening to remember. Fortunately Peter Brookes had arranged a mini-coach, provided by ‘ Red Fox ‘ Taxi’s, and driven by a very switched on lady driver. It all enhanced the evening’s proceedings and closed the first day nicely.

Day Two, Tuesday  June 7th.  Hutton-Le-Hole to Levisham

This was to be our ‘ short and easy day ‘, at only 12.8 miles and 2800 feet of ascent. Colin took the initiative and led again, ably assisted by Jeff Hibbert.

It proved to be an interesting one as well, with Roman forts and much woodland and forest trails. We saw a couple of badgers in one of the woodland glades, frolicking about in broad daylight. St Mary’s Church in Lastingham demanded attention, people have been worshiping at this location since AD 654 and the area abounds with famous old wells. It is a very beautiful Church with a high stone vaulted roof and a crypt, well worth visiting.

The walking was not easy, with many short climbs and steep descents, but the weather was excellent. The day will long be remembered for the excellent scenery and the picturesque Levisham Railway Station. ( and also the tiny golf course in a farmer’s field ). We all considered this to have been a Duke ofYork day, you marched up to the top of a hill and you then marched down again, and again, and again.

Our accommodation was the excellent ‘ Horseshoe Inn ‘ in the quiet and charming village of Levisham, where we had dinner and relaxed to prepare for the following few days, which we knew would not be as easy as this day’s little romp.

Day Three. Wednesday June 8th. Levisham to Egton Bridge

After a quick and very good breakfast it was off to Egton Bridge, 15.1 miles it proved to be, and 3214 feet of ascent. The walking was great, with steep cliffs and breathtaking views along the sinisterly named Killing Nab Scar, hundreds of acres of heathery moorland followed, with forests in the vales. Jeff Hibbert led, wearing the Fez with great aplomb; Bob Stanfield ably backing him up, which was necessary given the nature of the terrain.

We came across Bronze Age burial mounds on Simon Howe, and had our first glimpse of the North Sea towards Whitby. The weather had been a mixture a mixture of bright sunshine and grey skies, sudden flurries of rain coming up from the south-west, later in the afternoon we had a thunderstorm, all making for wonderful big cloud filled skies.

It was a slightly surreal experience for us to walk through the village of Goatland, used by a TV company as the setting for Heartbeat, they called the place ‘ Aidensfield ’, it was full of visitors who could get there by railway, and old restored cars. They were the first people we had met all day! We hurried through it and soon made our destination at Egton Bridge. Some of us stayed at the Horseshoe Hotel which looked good from a distance but proved disappointing, but Peter Brookes and I had drawn the Broomhouse B & B on the edge of the village, which was superb. This proved to be rather controversial as Peter had changed the draw to save people walking an extra half mile after a long day’s walking. This was further compounded when Peter and myself decided that we should all dine at the Broomhouse during the evening. However everyone agreed the Broomhouse wa superb and we all enjoyed an entertaining dinner, with plenty of wine and ‘ Black Sheep ‘. Perhaps a little on the boisterous side, but we were on holiday. All had a very memorable day.

Day Four, Thursday June 9th. Egton Bridge to Rosedale Abbey

We all knew that this was to be a big day, and so it proved, 16.1 miles over the central high moors above Rosedale. The days walking brought us dramatic views of Great Fryup Dale, ironstone relics and a deserted railway high up across a fellside in the distance. The route finding was difficult in places and we met almost nobody all day. However, once we bypassed Lealholm we now started to walk southwest again, starting the great loop that would eventually take us back to Helmsley. The ascent up to Glaisdale Rigg saw us passing ‘ standing stones ‘ thousands of years old.

We crossed the moors, and then also crossed the route of the famous ‘ Lyke Wake Walk ‘; we then made our way down to the River Seven, which meanders around the small hamlet of Thorgill. We finally meandered along the route to the small village of Rosedale Abbey. It had been another stunning day, with reasonable weather, but the total ascent had been 4092 feet, no wonder we all felt rather tired.

Our accommodation for the evening was the ‘ White Horse Farm Inn ‘, where we had a very funny and welcoming Landlady who met us with cries of Pints of Beer Lads ? or do you want cups of Tea. The ‘ Black Sheep ‘ won.

A slightly quieter evening saw us enjoying a well deserved dinner and a few necessary drinks. It was not without incident however, Colin can be rather persistent in his hunt for porridge and having found out that the waitress might have some at home even offered to collect it from her doorstep the following morning ! It had been along, but interesting day, led with great aplomb by Peter Brookes and Martin Anderson in the Fez.

It had also been a strange day for at least one incident. For a few miles the route matched the Coast to Coast walk, and we actually met several walkers coming towards us along the path. Two comely ladies from Stratford Upon Avon expressed surprise and a little astonishment at our dishevelled group, can’t think why, but one of them suddenly asked Colin if he was married, as she was doing the walk looking for a husband ! Actually, she said, I don’t really want you, just a decent house. It is not often you see Colin speechless, he certainly moved off from them very fast. There are all sorts of risks on these long distance walks.

DayFive, Friday June 10th. Rosedale Abbey to Hawnby

This was to prove the second hardest day of the week, 16.5 miles and 3298 feet of ascent. Reg was due to lead with me, but was having trouble with sore feet. ( A first for him, put down to a recent three week cruise and too much time in the pool. One should not underestimate the health risks associated with taking a long journey on a luxury liner ! ) So arrangements were wisely made to have him taken directly to Hawnby by ‘ Brigantes ‘, the company who move our luggage on each day.

It was to prove a vexatious and demanding day. Firstly we, that is I, did not find the correct route through the deep heather up from Thorgill to the summit of Pike Howe. It was terrible walking, no paths and boggy. However things got a little better when we got to Taylor’s Nab and descended down into Church Houses where we stopped for a little coffee. The local finches were so tame that they would almost eat cake crumbs from your hand.

From there it was another climb over the remote Dickon Howe and down to the abandoned Bransdale Mill for our lunch stop. We took shelter in the Barn as the rain was now sheeting down. This is a very remote spot, it was strange that the mill was in such good condition; in some way it felt as if we were surrounded by ghosts.

The rain stopped and we made our way slowly up to the moors again at the strangely named Botany Bay, with more poor paths and difficult navigation, by now Colin had helped by reading out Mark Reid’s notes from his guide. The walking was tough, but we eventually made it down to Bilsdale. But another climb lay ahead, Pepper Hill and High Banniscue took their toll. It was here that the party nearly split, eventually deciding to walk down opposite sides of a fence, each group shouting at each other as to who were on the right side of the track. Both were, it was a new fence, but such is the effects of a long day and gentle tiredness that common sense can go out of the window.

We reached Hawnby, and good humour returned with the welcome prospect of hot showers and soothing whisky. Most of us were in Easterside Farm, friendly and homely, Reg was already there , safe and well. Colin and Peter Proctor had drawn the ‘ Inn at Hawnby ’, luxury accommodation indeed. We later joined them for dinner and a few drinks. This pub was more accustomed to shooting parties paying £1000 a day each, so I suspect that our little group may have been a culture shock for them.

Easterside Farm was outside of Hawnby, so we were greatly obliged to the farmer who very considerately ran us to and from the village. They were a lovely couple, his wife once being employed as the cook for the local Lord and landowner. She informed us that taking us down to the village was her husband’s excuse for a pint with the locals. She had baked us all a cake which was excellent, and was a very friendly and obliging woman.

It had been a long day , but one to remember.

Day Six Saturday 11th June.  Hawnby to Helmsley

In the farmhouse we awoke to a marvellous breakfast and the sun shining, a good day was promised. Only the last 17.5 miles to do, and a total of 2840 feet, but we were not to know that at the start of the day. A bonus was that Reg felt fully recovered enough to do the last day’s walking.

The day actually started disastrously, Theo fell down the open stairs to the cellar in the breakfast room of the stone built farmhouse. By the grace of God he suffered only a slight cut, but it could have been much worse. Perhaps ‘ Health and Safety ‘ has yet to reach some of the more remote areas of North Yorkshire !

Our route took us due west, out of Hawnby, past the beautiful Arden Hall, which was hidden away in a little valley below Coomb Hill. Then we went south, over Dale Town Common to pick up the Cleveland Way for approximately 4 miles of wonderful views along the Boltby Scar, this was high quality walking indeed.

Theo and Peter Proctor were leading; it was not long before they took us eastwards, off the Cleveland Way, towards Cold Kirby, where lunch was had sat by the side of a rather unusual Church. Then it was down into Flassen Dale only to go up again into Scawton. However by a slightly circuitous route, due to a navigational deviation and re-evaluation, we eventually made it to the splendid ruins of Rievaulx Abbey. After a short rest and, for some, ice creams, we made our way back onto the Cleveland Way for the remaining three miles into Helmsley. By now tourists were everywhere, we no longer had the hills to ourselves.

The mandatory photographs were taken in front of the statue on the town square, and another walk was over. Peter and Theo had brought us home, so to speak.

Conclusions

We had booked into the Carlton Lodge again for the Saturday night, which was just as well, given that we were all fairly tired. So an early celebratory dinner was had at the Feathers Hotel, goodbyes said to Colin and Joyce and Bob and Reg, who had to leave early, and it was off to bed.

It had been a wonderful week, full of extraordinary scenery, great churches and historic remains. It will leave us all with many memories. However the walking was not easy, some of the moorland areas were quite vast and it would not be sensible to cover this route in winter on ones own. Good navigation helps as well. We did have a few navigational readjustments along the way !

All that remains is to thank Peter Brookes for making all the splendid arrangements again, and to thank our wives for allowing us to disappear for a weeks walking. Thank you ladies. I must mention Mark Reid who put this walk together, only when you travel along it do you realise the variety of scenery and places of interest that Britain has to offer, we are truly blessed in a way. The question is, could we do another one ?

Dave Thompson     June 2011

Total distance – 93.3 miles

Total height ascended – 19144 feet*

* All as walked by us and measured by Theo’s GPS

Area  :  Seatoller, Borrowdale

Party  :  Len Hall, Theo Dibbits, Jeff Hibbert, Peter Brookes, David Thompson

Author  :  David Thompson

A fewer number of suspects met in the National Trust car park in Seatoller, Borrowdale, for the 9.30am start which would take us in a circular route over the surrounding fells. The weather was dull, but not yet raining, very windy and somewhat chilly for a late May Day. Following a delay to obtain change for the parking meter, we made our way down towards Burthwaite Bridge to find the path on the right that would take us South up and over the imposing ridge of Glaramara. ( What are things coming to when parking meters are found in remoter parts of the Lakes? )

The going was actually quite tough rising up the ridge with the increasingly strong gusts of wind making it difficult to establish any kind of walking rhythm. Some interesting scrambling was encountered going over Thornythwaite Fell onto Capell Crag; Combe Head Crag was circumvented and the views back towards Keswick taken in, they were quite stunning. It soon became evident that the expedition that we planned for the day was perhaps going to be a little ambitous. We could see the cloud coming down over the distant peak of Great Gable, which was to be the final large peak of the day, and the wind was really beginning to roar. What would it be like through the famous ‘ Windy Gap’ ?

We made Allen Crag at last, then made our way down to Sprinkling Tarn and finally to Styhead Tarn, this was decision time, to attempt Gable, or to let discretion take it’s course and go down Styhead Ghyll towards Seathwaite? Discretion won , and thank goodness for it, by the time we made it down to Stockley Bridge the rain was torrential, coming down as it only can in Borrowdale. We had rain all the way back to Seatoller, at which we arrived just in time to stop a very large coach demolishing a farmer’s fence !

On the way down Jeff Hibbert had a slight fall, I had lost my voice due to Tonsilitis and laryngitis, we were all wet through, thank goodness the pleasures of the Crooklands Hotel beckoned. It had been a strange day, but a good one. Theo confirmed we had walked ten miles and climbed over 5000 feet.

Tuesday 21 September

We had an early flight from Manchester airport but as there were no queues we were quickly through check in.

There was a costly mix up over the price of duty free booze and sunglasses by some of the party. The author of this article must have had MUG written across his forehead

It was a good flight and we were met by Liza from New Kydonia suites at the airport who welcomed us to Crete.

Bob & Celine were on a later flight and caught a taxi to NK but got lost. They tried to telephone and text the other members of party but all their mobiles switched off as they were in holiday mode!

A few of the party had a swim and a few beers to cool off in the afternoon and this was followed by a barbecue meal and a few bottles of wine in the evening in the patio dining area.

There was a rather large Cretan bed in the dining area and after the meal Celine tried it out. There then followed a competition to see how many people can you get on one bed. The photos are on the way to the News of the World!

Wednesday 22 September

It was an early start at 8.30 am, far too early for some after the events of last night, and we were introduced to Dimitri, who was to be our guide for the week.

The day started of with a coach ride, in the 55-seater which had picked the party up at the airport, for about an hour to the province of Apokoronou. This was to be the start of a very short walk to the pretty village of Douliana, where we had a coffee stop of about an hour. Local tea was had by some of the party, but the old lady was overwhelmed with the numbers and took forever to serve the tea. In the mean time some of the ladies started to pick pomegranates and lemons from the trees, to the consternation of Dimitri. Just as we were about to leave there was a plaintive cry for Ros from the back of the café where Ron had locked himself in the loo!

We then set off for a short walk, very short, with stops on the way for Dimitri to explain the history of Crete and the Fauna and flora.

After a short time we arrived at the picturesque village of Gavalohori where we visited the local folklore museum and the women’s bobbin lace co-operative.

A long, very long lunch followed. It was a fantastic lunch, and later voted the best of the holiday, starting with the ubiquitous bread with olive oil and Greek salad, followed by numerous dishes of stews, chicken, pork, potatoes and chips cooked in olive oil and finished with copious amounts of pastries, thyme honey, yogurt and apricots. As an aid to digest our lunch, a local liqueur was served in a shot glass. Kevan obviously took a liking to the liqueur as several empty glasses were remaining in his place when he left the table!

We were then back on the coach for a ride to the only fresh water lake on Crete at Kounas. It was smaller than one of the numerous reservoirs on the north side of Bolton and in my opinion not as pretty.

We were offered a chance to visit a pottery factory which Terry and Margaret took up whilst the rest of the party walked down to the lake.

On our return to New Kydonia we stopped at the Aptera archaeological site dating back to the 5th C BC. Substantial ruins remain and we also had stunning views over Souda Bay from the hilltop fortress.

It had been a long day with not much walking; I think I would be exaggerating if I say we had walked 5 miles in 9 hours. Not a lot for men who can walk 25 miles in a day.

The evening meal was a light buffet with wine followed by a slide show of the Cretan mountains given by our guide Dimitri.

Thursday 23 September

We departed after breakfast at 8.30 am in a 16-seater minibus, which was more suited for the windy and twisty Cretan roads, for the Province of Kissamos and the village of Syrikari which would be the start of the walk down the Polyrrinia Gorge.

Maria, who was to be our excellent driver for the rest of the week, drove us through mountainous roads for over an hour to Syrikari. There was the obligatory coffee and fag stop for Dimitri.

The walk down the Polyrrinia Gorge is one of the easiest in western Crete but starts with a steep incline into the gorge and then opens out into a wide easy descent and becomes a gentle stroll, but the scenery was quite stunning.

Dimitri again pointed out the various flowers and herbs that grew in the gorge. There was an abundance of sage, cacti, thyme and other plants.

The gorge eventually narrowed and we were surrounded by high walls of vertical rock with wild goats clinging to the rock.

The walk down the gorge took about three hours and then we walked up a tarmac road to the village of Polyrrinia were we met by our driver Maria. Polyrrinia was once a walled acropolis and parts of the wall are still remaining. A short walk though the village, passing trees with magnificent blossoms and still used Raki stills, brought us to the top of a hill with incredible views over Kissamos Bay.

We were then back on the minibus for a trip down to the coast to Kestelli on the seafront for lunch at 2.30pm. It was supposed to be a light lunch but after eating for one and a half hours one tends to feel quite full!

On the return journey we visited the village of Spilia and the cave of St John the Hermit and the unique Rotonda Byzantine church. There were fantastic views over olive groves down to Chania, the main town of western Crete.

Arriving back at New Kydonia at 5.45 pm a dip in the pool was quite welcome. A light buffet meal was arranged taken with a little wine and beer.

Friday 24 September

Dissention in the camp! Dave and Peter had talked to Lisa the previous evening about cutting out the coffee stops and walking up the Imbros gorge instead of down it. Dimitri was not at all happy with this because not only was he missing out on his coffee and fag stop but he was worried that it might rain and we could be trapped in the gorge by a flash flood. Given the fact that it had not rained on Crete for 18 months we could still be trapped in the middle of the gorge whether we went up or down!

In the event we survived.

The trip to the bottom of the gorge went through mountainous village plain of Askifou and down to the coastal village of Hora Sfakion.

It was through the Imbros gorge that the allied forces retreated from the German invasion after the fierce fighting during the battle for Crete in World War II. They were evacuated from the south coast at night by the British navy and fishing boats to Egypt. Thousands, however, were left stranded and either fought in the mountains with the fierce Cretan Resistance or were taken POWs and sent to concentration camps throughout Europe.

On the 500m steep descent down to Hora Sfakion it was easy to see why Dimitri wanted to walk down the gorge and not up it.

When we arrived at the start of the walk Dimitri was subdued and as soon as the bus stopped he immediately set off walking with complete disregard for the rest of the party, as all good leaders do! The party became strung out as the leader set of as some of the party were in need of a comfort stop.

Dimitri condescended to wait and let the rest of the party catch up giving us strict instructions that we were to keep a steady pace and there would only be one 10 minute stop in the middle of the gorge.

It was a steady walk up the gorge with no real difficulty but with high rock faces all around. Every time Dimitri stopped to check the group he was confronted by the face of Terry about 2ft behind him!

The only incident of note on the walk up the gorge was Bob being stung by a hoard of wasps as he attempted to photograph some goats, first aid was administered by Dave.

As the walk progressed and Dimitri realised that we were keeping up with him he became slightly more amenable and started to smile.

The majority of people were walking down the gorge, Crown walkers like to be different, and it was decided to give our linguistic skills an airing by greeting our fellow walkers in as many languages as possible. It did raise a few bemused smiles. We reached the top of the gorge after about 2 hours 15 minutes and 500m of ascent, it had been a steady walk without any real exertion needed. The scenery on the way up the gorge had not been really spectacular but the views on the drive to the start had made up for it.

The 2 hour lunch was taken in a restaurant at the top of the gorge with a sleepy drive back to New Kydonia interrupted by a stop at a olive factory. Arriving back at New Kydonia there was sufficient time to have a refreshing dip in the pool before our barbeque meal.

Saturday 25 September

This was to be our big day as we were to walk down the Samarian Gorge, the longest gorge in Europe. The Samarian Gorge is part of a National Park and is renowned for its breathtaking wild natural beauty.

We had a very early 7.00am start and a long drive up into the White Mountains and onto the mountain plateau of Omalos at 1200m, where we stopped for a breakfast of bread, yogurt, honey, cheese and very thick black coffee to wake us up.

The walk started down the very steep Ksiloskala wooden steps with spectacular mountain views over the White Mountains and looking down the gorge. On reaching the river bed it was an easy walk through magnificent scenery with high vaulted walls of rock on either side. The gorge is 18Km long and took about 5½ hours to complete the walk. The village of Samaria is approximately halfway along the walk and made a suitable stop for a break. It was finally abandoned by the last remaining inhabitants in 1962 to make way for the park. The village and the gorge take their names from the village’s ancient church, Ossia Maria – “Saint Mary”.

During one section of the walk Dimitri stopped and warned our party about the dangers of loose rocks which could fall onto us from the precipitous walls of rock. He then produced a climbing helmet which he immediately donned and said he would go first and the rest of us should follow at a reasonable distance behind him.

The gorge was about 50m wide at this point and several other walkers looked on in amusement at these proceedings. Needless to say there were some caustic comments from some members of our party. About three thousand tourists pass through the gorge on a busy summer’s day and I suspect that they all come fully equipped with climbing helmets and are made fully aware of the falling rock danger!

As we proceeded in this fashion we came across a French couple who were having their lunch sat below the rock face, Dimitri immediately went into a tirade about rocks falling onto them and that he was only one of two professional mountain guides in Crete. The French couple were obviously totally bemused by this situation. I recommended that Dimitri should go on a twelve month man management course to learn the art of communicating with people. I suspect he did not take me up on the suggestion!

After passing through some magnificent scenery the end the gorge narrowed down to about 3m and is called the “iron gate” for some unknown reason. The gorge then immediately opened up with views of Old Agia Roumeli where, fortunately, there was a welcoming bar were we were able quench our thirst.

A further short walk brought us to the village of Agia Roumeli on the southern coast of Crete by the Libyan Sea. Refreshments were taken before we caught the ferry for the sea journey along the coast to Sougia and the drive back to New Kydonia. As it had been a long day the majority of the group decided it was a good opportunity for an early night in bed.

Sunday 26 September

Today was a day of rest with most of the group having a lazy lie in and then visiting the town of Chania with its very picturesque old Venetian port. The afternoon was spent relaxing by the pool and in the sunny but windy conditions with a opportunity to watch Bolton draw 2-2 against Manchester United.

Peter had composed a song called White Mountains as a tribute to our intrepid leader Dimitri and this was to be sung to the theme of Moon River. As a couple of rehearsals had already been held it was decided to have a final rehearsal following dinner and three other couples in the restaurant were to give marks out of 10, similar to a “Britain’s Got Talent” competition. The results were not very favourable with the first couple giving 0 points, the second 1 point and the third 6 points but saying the choreography was not very good and the men were slow!

Pretty rubbish really!

Monday 27 September

A change from the scheduled walk saw the group walking the Agia Arini Gorge and entering the gorge just south of the village from which it takes its name. Although the gorge of Agia Irini is less spectacular than the Samarian it is far less crowded and very beautiful.

The walk started down a steep descent through some old terraces with some fabulous views down the gorge. The gorge was quite green and the vegetation is extremely rich and consists of plane trees, pine and cypress trees, with many different herbs in the rocks and aromatic spices growing wild next to the pathway.

The path in the gorge was improved considerably a few years ago and is, for the most, without difficulties but it was possibly the most arduous walk of the week with a few steep descents and several up and downs on the paths. There were several resting places where we took the opportunity to quench our thirst.

We met very few people in the gorge but true to form Dimitri managed to give a rollicking to two Swiss alpine climbers for some unknown reason.

We met up with Terry, Margaret, Bob and Celine in the taverna at the end of the gorge for a welcoming beer. After a brief stay we were transported the short distance to Sougia where we had lunch, a very large lunch at 3.30pm. It was during lunch that we sung White Mountains to Dimitri, our guide for the week. It was very moving!

Leaving Sougia at 5.00pm we arrive back at New Kydonia for a quick shower ready for the final evening’s entertainment. This started with a champagne reception with Lisa in the bar, a few thank you speeches and then off to Chania for a meal in a harbour restaurant.

Mo and Terry joined us for dinner and to say that there was no shortage of food would be an understatement. There was every conceivable type of Greek food on the table with chips, chips and more chips. I think vast quantities of Cretan food had won the battle and our stomachs had lost!

Tuesday 28 September

It was with some sadness that we had to pack up and leave New Kydonia and Crete to return to the sunny climes of Bolton.

It had been a memorable holiday in more ways than one. The hospitality given by Lisa and Mo at new Kydonia was unsurpassed. The memories of Crete and the gorges will be everlasting. The company was as usual fantastic and a joy to be with.

Dimitri, well, let us say he will be remembered!

Finally my thanks go to Dave and Barbara Thompson for organising a great week in Crete.

Jeff Hibbert

Sweden Bridge

A beautiful, but chilly, Lakeland morning saw a larger party than normal assembling in the busy Ambleside Car Park for the ‘High Level’ walk. Several new members were present, and it was good to see Terry Wright once again setting out on a high level challenge after his two knee operations.

The route took the sixteen of us from the car park along the A591 to the Scandale Bridge, then up the wide track that goes through Rydal Hall and up to Lord Crag and Heron Pike. Erne Crag and Great Rig followed, with a final push to reach Fairfield; at 2880 feet this was our highest summit of the day. We had been basically walking due north, with excellent views to our left over Easedale, and the Langdale valley. We could also see Scafell Pike and Great Gable in the far distance.

At the summit of Fairfield, Nethermost Pike and Dollywaggon Pike came into view, and also Grisedale Tarn, which was peeping out far below us. Lunch was had in the shelter of the curved summit cairn, but we could not stop very long because the northerly wind was icy cold despite the bright sunshine.

We now turned south east to find our way to Hart Crag, Dove Crag and eventually the Scandale Pass. The planned route would then have taken us over Red Screes, but the party decided that the beautiful Scandale Valley was too good to miss, so it was then a lovely stroll down into Ambleside again, this being after the compulsory group photograph on the famous ‘Sweden Bridge’.

We had walked over twelve miles and climbed about 3600 feet, a very good day indeed, enhanced by the beers in the White Horse hotel in Ambleside at the end of the day. We had climbed seven of Lakeland’s one hundred highest peaks in a day and enjoyed some wonderful views.

The party consisted of:

Theo Dibbits, Peter Brookes, Laurie Meyrick, Reg Collier, Terry Wright, Colin Billiet, Peter Proctor , Bill Short, Bob Stanfield, Dave Thompson, Richard Stanfield, friend of Gavin, Gavin Stanfield, John (friend of Bob), Martin Charnock, Jim Stone

The Inn Way

For 2010 it had been decided that the long distance walk should be in the Peak District, a fascinating area of Derbyshire that includes the ‘White’ and ‘Dark’ Peaks, in what was the first of Britain’s National parks. It proved to be an area of contrasting scenery, the ‘Dark Peaks’ having moody, brooding moors and ridges of gritstone, whilst the ‘White Peaks’ had spectacular limestone valleys, and cliffs that must be a haven for the local youth. Rock climbing and caving abounded everywhere, as did fishing and bird life, and fields painted with the vivid colours of England’s wild flowers.

Last year we had followed Mark Reid’s comprehensive guide to Northumberland, so it seemed only natural to use his ‘The Inn Way to the Peak District’, it did not let us down and provided another week of fine walking.

The Start – Sunday 6 June

We assembled at the Royal Oak Hotel in Hayfield, which is adjacent to Hayfield’s compact cricket pitch, at about 4.00pm. Serious discussions lay ahead of us regarding the coming week and it was not long before the clink of glasses, interspersed with the sound of leather upon willow, accompanied our in-depth planning. All the normal ‘stalwarts’ were there as per last year, and given that a long week of walking lay ahead it was only natural that the excitement should start to build.

Discussions further continued at the Pack Horse Bistro, where we had a sensible meal, our waitress, called Sue, turned out to be a ‘lass’ from Bolton. She was from Le Gendre Street, just off Tonge Moor Road, and was on her third husband. She was certainly a match for Colin, who made the mistake of enquiring if the cheese was a mature one, no she replied, it’s an immature one, a bit like you! After a small ‘night-cap’, to settle our nerves, we all retired to ready ourselves for the day ahead.

Day One, Monday 7 June – Hayfield to Hathersage

This proved to be a very long day, in mixed weather, compensated for by some wonderful scenery. The route took us out of Hayfield by the ‘Kinder Road’, then along the ‘Snake Path’ and over to Ashop Head. The notorious ‘Kinder Scout’ was to our left, appearing occasionally out of the low-lying cloud.

We then followed the River Ashop for several miles, eventually picking up the old Roman Road, before wandering through the small village of Bamford and into Hathersage. Ron Clark and Peter Proctor had led us perfectly, for over 17.7 miles, and there had been over 3907 feet of ascent. The stresses of the day compelled us to have a reviving drink at the famous ‘Little John’ pub, and homely it was. But we could not stay long as we still had to find our way to the bottom of the village.

We stayed at the excellent ‘Sladen Lodge’, one of the best establishments we have ever come across on our long distance walks. A good dinner, of ample proportions, was had at the top of the town, at a pub called the ‘Scotsman’s Pack’. The day was notable for the fact that Reg complained about sore feet, (a first), and that we all found the decent from ‘Win’ Hill very hard indeed for a first day. Little did we know that worse was to follow!

Day Two, Tuesday 8 June – Hathersage – Baslow

We had a wonderful breakfast, then our two leaders for the day, Bill Short and Martin Anderton, marched us up to the top of the village again to find the burial place of Little John. Then it was due north to go past ‘North Lees Hall’, to eventually pop onto the top of Stanage Edge. It was odd to see the huge discarded ‘millstones’ just below the summit, as if thrown away by giants from a long gone era. By now it was raining, which was to be the situation for the rest of the day. Our mood was not much better than the Highland cattle that we came across, which were not even bothered to move out of our way.

It was a day of head down and just going for it. Lunch was had in a forest near the old fort of Carl Wark, (we never saw the fort).

Then it was onto White Edge Moor and the famous Curbar Edge and a stroll past the ‘Eagle’ stone, with dark ‘satanic’ mills framed against distant hillsides to our right. (We unfortunately missed the monument to Wellington, as I remarked earlier, it was heads down! We eventually made our way into Baslow. It had been a day of contrasts. Beautiful country houses in remote misty vales had interspersed with wet and cloudy gritstone edges. The views would have been wonderful if we could have seen them! Reg had started out a little grumpy after breakfast, but even he had found enough of interest to keep him entertained for a day, even in the rain.

Peter Brookes had conducted the draw for where we were staying and the majority of us found ourselves at the comfortable Wheatsheaf Hotel, the others, including our president, had to make a long diversion to the Heathy Lea Guest House, which turned out to be fine. Dinner was held at the Wheatsheaf, ample portions and good beers and wines led to a somewhat boisterous evening but we needed it. It had been a ‘short’ day of only 13 miles and 3186 feet of ascent, but it felt much harder.

Day Three, Wednesday 9 June – Baslow to Youlgrave

The day started for some with another huge breakfast, and a glimmer of sunshine, which brought some smiles to the party. So our two leaders, Bob Stanfield and Theo Dibbits wished us to be quickly on our way, it was to be a short day and they wanted to take advantage of the improving weather.

The first feature of the day was the walk through the grounds of Chatsworth House, what a wonderful building, we managed to get up close to it, but obviously did not have the time to visit the place fully. However, It should be on everybody’s agenda for a visit, it is so spectacular, even the front garden stretched to over two hundred acres. Ominously however, the clouds were rolling down to diminish our views of the place. We followed Theo, and a resurgent Reg for most of the day, with our other leader Bob sweeping up in the rear.

The day was enhanced by an excellent stop for refreshments in the Norman Church of St Ann’s, in Beeley. Although only a few fragments now remain of the original building it is still a lovely structure. Beeley is the Duke of Devonshire’s ‘estate’ village and also well worth a visit.

From Beeley it was through the strangely named Smeltingmill wood and into Rowsley, which lies on the confluence of two rivers, the Derwent and the Wye. There is much to see here, but we had to move on to Stanton in Peak, a delightful little village. Rain was threatening, indeed, by mid afternoon we had to don our wet weather gear again.

Our next highlight was Stanton Moor, which is special for many reasons. It is an area of moorland that contains pockets of birch woodland and acres of heather.It is an outpost of the ‘Dark’ Peak set along side the edge of the limestone ‘White’ Peak. People have lived here for over 4000 years, and is the site of a large stone circle. It is true to say that it felt very special, even in the gentle rain that had started to fall upon us.

It did not take us too long to go through Birchover, and then to climb up to Cratcliffe Torr and past another stone circle to reach Castle Ring; this area is positively littered with prehistoric remains. A long slow decent followed, down to and over the ‘Bleakley Dike’ and then it was up into Youlgrave with a mighty church dominating the village.

An especially helpful local gave us tips on where to drink and eat. It had been a good day, 12.5 miles and 2118 feet of ascent, with much to see and interest us all along the way, even passing a hermits cave. Our leaders slightly admonished us for spending time there, but hey hoe, we were on holiday.

The efforts of the day were such that early drinks had to be taken at the George Hotel, prior to us finding our accommodation. It had been a day of lovely little villages and differing scenery, spiced by history that went back thousands of years.

Peter Brookes had not been able to gain us accommodation in one location in the village, so the party had to split into three. Some of us went to the ‘Farmyard Inn’, which was warm and welcoming, others went to the ‘Old Bakery’ and a few remained at the George Hotel. I shared a good room at the Farmyard Inn with Colin. It seems that the ‘Old Bakery was an unusual place, slightly cold and very cramped for space, but the George was fine. We all met later for an excellent dinner at the Farmhouse Inn, where we had our own private room, just off the bar. The couple who ran it were very good hosts, happy and helpful people.

Youlgrave is an atmospheric little village that had a different feel to it compared to the other places that we had stayed in. It was empty of people and quiet with little traffic, probably due to the heavy rain that was falling. The village had an old Hall that dated from 1656, built from stone, with gables and mullions. It is said that the ghosts of Cavaliers and Roundhead soldiers still fought endless battles there, skirmishes unresolved from the Civil War. Perhaps that is why the village had a sad feel to it. Youlgrave also had one other claim to fame, the ‘Thimble Hall’, the smallest detached house in the world, dating from the 18^th Century. It has only two eight by seven foot rooms, joined by a ladder. It was home to a family of eight in the 1900’s!

Day Four, Thursday 10 June – Youlgrave to Tideswell

We assembled outside All Saints Church, which dominates the village, at 9.15 am for a prompt start; the weather was brightening again, so all augured well for our long walk over to Tideswell. It was the day for Peter Brookes and myself to lead, and our first objective was to find ‘Allport’ and the river Bradford. This we quickly did and after a short meanders through some riverside meadows we found it joined the river Lathkill, which we were to follow westwards for many miles. We soon passed under the impressive limestone outcrop at Rhienstor, and then went over the Conksbury Bridge to start the walk up the lovely Lathkill Dale. What a sublime walk, so much to see and visit, old mines and small nature reserves, this was a very special terrain indeed. If only we had had more time!

We saw nesting swans and ducks and many ducklings, dippers and other birds that we could not identify. The water had a blue aqua tint, quite beautiful, especially the sections where the river had been partially dammed to create small lagoons for the fish and wild life. We came across a mine that had been opened up to show its shaft and workings, with a hand cranked light inside to illuminate the interior, a very novel feature indeed. Lead has been mined in Lathkill Dale since the 13^th Century, but the heyday was during the 18th and 19^th Centuries.

The day was also unusual in that we came across dozens of bright young teenage girls training for the Duke of Edinburgh Award. They were very courteous to this passing bunch of old fogies and could not really understand why we would wish to walk so far in one day. But it was good to see youngsters out enjoying life. They were evidently from a private school near Cambridge, and it showed. They were marching through the Palmerston Wood nature reserve with large serous rucksacks, but quietly, so as not to disturb the abundant wildlife.

We eventually had to leave the glorious Lathkill Dale, with its white limestone ridges, but not before a most uncomfortable coffee stop due to not only an increasing rain fall, but also a cold wind that came driving down the valley from the north west. The small village of Monyash came next, and then it was a hard walk over to the large ‘Hard Rake’ Plantation, which had numerous stiles.

The stiles in this area were very difficult to surmount due to their somewhat tight construction. Made from limestone, they became very slippy in the rain and there were few support posts that were of any use. We suffered two calamities during this period; firstly, Jeff twisted his ankle, fell, and crashed into myself, sending me flying. No real harm was done and Jeff soon recovered the use of his foot. Secondly, and more seriously, Reg fell off the top of one of the stiles and badly bruised his backside. It could have been far more serious, but it shook Reg up, we all took more care thereafter when climbing over walls in this area.

We then visited the ‘Magpie Mine’, one of the best-preserved 19^th Century lead mines in England. It’s buildings stand like broken teeth against the skyline on what is actually a large limestone plateau. It can be seen from a great distance away. This area, which now looks so pretty and agricultural, hides an industrial history that goes back over 2000 years. Lead was mined here by the Romans, and all through the Middle ages, indeed it became one of the most productive sources of lead in the world. Unfortunately we did not have the time to really explore it, lunch was calling and we were in need of shelter.

So we went on to the small quiet hamlet of Sheldon, which was picture card beautiful, 18^th century cottages and farms set back behind a very long and narrow green. There was a very inviting pub called the ‘Cock and Pullet, which was almost demanding our attention, it would have been nice to call in, especially as it was starting to rain again, but we still had a long way to go.

Needless to say, sense prevailed, just, and we made a somewhat hasty dash to find shelter in the grounds and porch of the local Church, St Michael and All Angels. It is noted for its very steeply pitched roof, pointing up to heaven. I could not help but think that this particular bunch of angles were slightly out of place!

Time was pressing, so it was on to Monsal Head, but first we had to descend a nasty slope down to the bottom of Deepdale and then cross the busy A6 trunk Road before we could enter Monsal Dale. From then on it was a wonderful stroll along the River Wye, slowly ascending up to the great viaduct, passing the Iron Age fort of ‘Fin Cop’ in the process. The views from Monsal Head were wonderful, this is an area of outstanding beauty and given the time it would also be well worthwhile reading up the history of the railways and tunnels in this area.

After ice creams, thanks to a strategically placed vendor, and Theo providing the funding, it was down again to cross the viaduct and follow the Monsal trail for a while, seeing the impressive Cressbrook House below us. The rest was relatively simple, we followed the river with its weirs and overhanging cliffs, (rock climbers trying out new routes), then into Millers Dale and a quick swing north to find Tideswell Dale and our last mile of the day into the Town.

It had been a long day, sixteen miles and 2833 feet of ascent, with many incidents and much to remember, a good day, so drinks were immediately necessary at the first accommodation that we came to, the George Hotel. We were split up again, but fortunately I had drawn the George Hotel for my accommodation and shared a room with Bill Short. It proved fine for me, but poor Bills feet were overhanging the tiny single bed by about a foot and a half! It was a very cramped room indeed, only made up for by the quality of the company and the ample supply of whisky. (Although a ‘Black Sheep’ man by nature, Bill can be tempted into a small glass of the amber nectar.)

We later met for dinner at the ‘Horse and Jockey’, it provided ample fare, and good red wine, served by a willing and beautiful young waitress. She seemed to be doing just about everything in the place. Especially keeping us in order, but she did it in such a way that large nightcaps were not required to calm our nerves.

Day Five, Friday 11 June – Tideswell to Castleton

The party assembled outside the George hotel, sun shining and everybody happy. It was Jeff and Colin’s turn to lead and Colin had a surprise in store. He produced a red ‘Fez’, which he had been carrying in his luggage all week. He presented it to Jeff to commemorate the fact that he could do an admirable impersonation of Tommy Cooper, and was also to be ‘leader in chief’ for the day. Hence forth, the Fez would identify the day’s leader.

So off we went, down the road we had walked up the previous night, swinging right at Litton Dale to find the hamlet of Litton with it’s broad ‘High Street’ and tidy houses with lovely gardens, what a pleasant place it must be to live in. From there it was a right turn and over to Tansley Dale, white limestone buttresses beginning to appear, this is the area of the ‘White Peak Plateau’ and soon we were walking past the extraordinary St Peters stone, which is at the end of the peaceful Cressbrook Dale. St Peters stone looks nothing when you approach it, but when you look back it takes on the appearance of a huge pulpit, towering up into the sky.

We soon reached the village of Wardlow Mires, and then marched onto Foolow, which is thought to be the prettiest little village in the Peak District. It had a small village pond with ducks and a central cross, it was everything you could wish for of an old English village; that was until Reg dropped his trousers to show us his badly bruised bottom as a result of his fall the previous day. It frightened us; I cannot think what it did for the ladies who were painting the scene from the other side of the green.

It sits right on the northern edge of the ‘White Peak’; soon we would be seeing gritstone again. Next came probably one of the most famous villages in England, called Eyam, but pronounced Eem, it was almost wiped out during the great plague in 1665 when a box of cloth was sent from London to a local tailor. Regrettably it was infected with the plague, and soon people were dying. Fearing that the rest of the local villages in the area would suffer the same fate, Eyam voluntarily quarantined itself. It was a great, selfless act that saved the surrounding populations from a calamity. But many children and adults died in Eyam itself. Eyam looked to be a delightful place to explore, with an astonishing history, but we had to move on.

We followed Jeff in his Red Fez up over Eyam Moor, found our way to Abney Clough and the village of Abney, and then climbed over Shatton Moor to descend the long track into Brough. From there it was a short walk through the Navio Roman Fort, a climb up the old quarries and then down into the outskirts of Hope. From there it was but a short stroll over to Castleton. This was just as well as Martin Anderton had not been feeling too well, but he made it.

It had been another long day, 14.6 miles and 2084 feet of ascent, cooling drinks were an absolute requirement and so a decent bar was quickly found, and the risk of dehydration avoided. Castleton proved to be an interesting little town with some excellent pubs, ‘The Cheshire Cheese Inn’ looked especially interesting. Later we made our way down to Causeway House, where all our baggage had been dropped off, most of us were booked in there, the others into a house called Deanwood. There was a wonderful scramble for rooms at Causeway House and Theo, Peter Procter, and myself shared a three-bedded room on the ground floor. It was cramped but comfortable, cosy even, so much so that prior to going out for dinner the three of us shared glasses of whisky to brace ourselves for the evening ahead.

Peter actually produced his bottle of ‘Grouse’, still un-opened after the weeks journey, this bottle now holds the record for the longest travelled unopened bottle of whisky in the world. (We think this was its fourth long distance walk)Alas it still remained un-opened when we reached Hayfield, but there is always next year to hope for.

A most hospitable South African couple ran Causeway House; and a novel feature at breakfast was that every table had its own toaster, with an ample supply of bread. The couple were good fun, and provided breakfast for the two who had to spend the night at Deanwood.

Day Six, Saturday 12 June – Castleton to Hayfield

We assembled at 9.00am on a fine sunny morning for our last day of walking, which would see us travel the 12.1 miles back to Hayfield.The ‘Red Fez’ was ceremonially presented to Reg, who wore it with aplomb, and off he went, towing the rest of us behind him, like a mother duck with its brood of ducklings. (Too much ‘Black Sheep’, red wine and whisky can have that effect on a party)

From Castleton a steep and rocky path took us up ‘Cave Dale’, the remains of the castle towering above us on the ridge, built there centuries ago to protect the town. The famous ‘Mam Tor’ came next, this very clear day providing wonderful views and many walkers, out on a Saturday to enjoy the Dales. They were a bit of a surprise to us as we had seen so few people during the week. From Mam Tor a remarkable flagged path ran along the top of the ‘Great Ridge’ to Hollins Cross, from where a steep path eventually took us left down to the Vale of Edale. This was terrific walking, enhanced by the views of the distant trains that were running up and down Edale. They could almost have been out of a Hornby train set.

From there it was a good track up to the tiny hamlet of Upper Booth, and then a steady stroll along the banks of the river ‘Noe’ to the packhorse bridge that would take us up to the ‘Jacobs Ladder’.This is the notorious paved climb that would take us up to the famous, but disappointingly small, ‘Edale Cross’. It was at the start of this climb that Reg decided to stop to have lunch, much to the concern of many in the party, who wished to complete the climb prior to taking on food. The party split for the first time in the week, coming together at the top of the causeway to enjoy the extensive views of Kinder Scout, the highest point in the Peak District. What a climb it had been.

All that remained was for us to wander down Coldwell Clough, and then to meander through the caravan site at Elle Bank Wood, which was all eerily reminiscent of the end to our walk in Northumberland when it took us some time to find our way out of the camp site at Clennell Hall at Alwinton. But this time, no problem, Reg marched us triumphantly into the Royal Oak’s car park in Hayfield and another ‘Long Distance Walk’ was over. The final day had resulted in an ascent of over 2354 feet. (During the week we had totalled over 16482 feet of ascent, and walked 85.9 miles. No wonder they call this the ‘Peak District’!)

Cricket was again being played on the adjoining pitch, drinks were had and all was right with the world. It had been a super weeks walking which had left us with many happy memories. It had also been a week of great contrasts, poor weather, beautiful weather, great scenery and historic houses, good company and entertaining meals, some slight injuries, but good humour. The Peak District has much to offer, and all praise to Mark Reid for putting together a guide that is so informative and a walk that is so worthwhile.

Thanks must be made to our President Peter Brookes for his truly excellent arrangements. Thanks must also go to our wives, who so readily allow us to disappear for a weeks walking in June. Thank you ladies.

All that now remains is to await Theo Dibbits’ DVD of the weeks adventure, which always bring smiles and fond memories on dark winter evenings.

For the record, this years walk was completed by:

Peter Brookes, Peter Proctor, Reg Collier, Colin Billiet, Bill Short, Theo Dibbits, Jeff Hibbert, Martin Anderson, Bob Stanfield, Ron Clarke, and Dave Thompson.

Dave Thompson, July 2010

Ambleside – Skelwith Bridge – Rydal

The party comprised, Neil Brown, Kevan Butcher, Harry and Jeff Kelly.

The walkers assembled at Ambleside car park on a beautiful spring morning for a prompt 9.30 departure. Regrettably our usual intrepid leader Ken Lord had been struck down with some foul ailment and I was instructed to lead our select band along Ken’s prepared route.

Leaving the car park onto the A591 we immediately picked up a footpath to the left just by the police station which led us across fields to the pack horse bridge over the River Rothy. Here we went left again onto a minor road leading to Rothy Bridge.

It was now necessary to follow the busy A593 road to the right for half a mile to Brathy Farm but this was not so bad as there is a good footpath separated from the road. At the farm we turned left on the B5286 and again found that there was a footpath alongside the road through woodland to Pull Wyke. Here the footpath ran out but we only had a few yards on the road before a grass path led off to the right up the quite steep Holme Brow. The now level path took us on to the hamlet of Skelwith Fold.

The view from Skelwith Fold must rank as one of the best in the area with picture postcard cottages forming a foreground to a perfect vista of the Langdale and Bow Fell ranges. Camera shutters were certainly kept busy here. A quiet minor road now lead us on and down to Skelwith Bridge.

After a short stretch along the main road we took the minor road alongside Little Loughrigg, another short steep climb, to find a good wide path to the east of Loughrigg Tarn. Excellent views again for the cameras. Soon we were back on the minor road where we were able to advise a party of walkers who thought they were heading for Rydal that they were going the wrong way. We put them straight.

Another half mile found us at a path to the right onto Loughrigg Terrace for more remarkable views over Grasmere. We were fortunate to find a bench seat enabling us to enjoy lunch in comfort and glorious sunshine. After an extended lunch break we continued past Rydal Water to Rydal and the busy A591 main road. A few yards along we turned right on the minor road following the River Rothy back to Ambleside.

All in all a very pleasant eight or so miles in perfect conditions. An early return to Crosslands allowed time to sample the available beverages.

Harry Duxbury