Statement of intention, spring and Panniers' Pool

I am not superstitious in any way, so I am happy to make a statement of intention to take part in this year's Mow Cop Hill Race.  Spring is poking its head out of the forest floor and hedgerows.  The first Bluebells have been around for a fortnight, Wood Anemones catch the dappled light, and those Hawthorns unmolested by recent chain flailing are already walling the lanes with green.  Not surprisingly then, the urge to get out and run is stronger than ever.

 Wood Anemones brightening the forest floor in the wonderfully named Parrot's Drumble.

 There has been no upturn in the health of my knee, quite the contrary in fact.  However I have found, that with great care, I can run a few miles every now and then.  Down hill on hard surfaces seems to be the thing to avoid, other than that, the difficulty/strenuousness of a route doesn't seem to make any difference.  So far I haven't run more than ten miles in a week and sometimes I have to rest completely. 

Last weekend saw me at Axe Edge Moor once again.  The lay-by off the A54 is rarely crowded and there is some wonderful scenery accessible within a few miles.  I decided on an extended version of the circular route taking in Three Shires Head.  I made a detour at Orchard Farm to climb Cheeks Hill, and continued following the Dane from Three Shires Head until I met the road, then took the path back from Cut-Thorn.  This gave a route of 6.5 miles and 1,133 feet of ascent, not dissimilar to Mow Cop Hill Race, though that was not an intention.

I took it easy downhill to Danebower Quarries, I was enjoying myself far too much to notice that the path climbs overall from there to the farm.  The climb did become noticeable from the farm to the disused shafts part way up Cheeks Hill and became very noticeable from there on to the stile just before the indistinct top.

 Cat and Fiddle (and blue sky) on the horizon, seen from the top of Cheeks Hill.

The path down was mostly well surfaced and I could spend more time looking at the view and less time looking at my feet than I had.  The disused shafts and the blue-black shaley soil make quite a striking mini landscape.  It was all downhill now to Three Shires Head and beyond.  The good surface continued while track became an access road until finally the path turns south west to follow a short unnamed tributary of the Dane.  The path is now less certain under foot, while the atmosphere builds as tarmac is left behind.  In no time at all one is at the rather wonderful Panniers' Pool.

The main bridge, Panniers' Pool.

Needless to say I lingered here for a while.  I took a few photos, but the view was blotted by a chap, eating his sandwiches, perched on the overhanging rock by the bridge.  I decided to have another go on the way back.  I met and stroked a nice dog who was enjoying the splashing water, then set off for Cut-Thorn.  The small path that follows the Dane closely seems to get little use, most people favouring the track that heads more directly south (if they go on at all).

 The smaller bridge, Panniers' Pool

I enjoyed the solitude of the little used path, it was poorly maintained though not as mangled by the passage of mountain bikes as better known footpaths.  The path leaves the Dane at the lowest point in the route and turns steeply up the side of the valley to the minor road.  My route then continued steeply up the road to Cut-Thorn and then took the track back to Panniers' Pool.

I was luckier at the pool this time, there was an unobstructed view, though the light was no longer so fine.  I took my shots quite quickly and set off along the Dane with that sadness one feels when a good run is nearing its end.  At this point I find it helpful to think of  sandwiches/cheese and chipotle wraps waiting in the car (it is best if they actually exist).

I enjoyed what was left of the run despite that 'heading back now' feeling.  The last section of the path was very muddy.  I stopped several times to wash my feet, shoes and legs in the Dane, only to get covered again.  I had a last wash before leaving the river and heading for the chimney, I passed the chimney and turned towards the road.  I stretched and was soon tucking into the wraps.

 Stuff hurts only an average amount.   I am taking it pretty easy now, until Sunday.  Wish me luck and I hope to see some of you there.  See - Mow Cop Hill Race 2016

Well, that seems to be that - and a general point about 'evidence based' medicine.

The good news is that I am not going to have to worry about finding a replacement for my very comfortable, but outrageously short lived La Sportiva C-Lite 2s.  The anti inflammatory treatment I had recently has brought me no discernible benefit.  In fact, none of the treatment I have had to date has brought me any discernible benefit.

The story of my injury over the last two and a half years is one of decline, despite treatment and the optimism of medical professionals.  What I have experienced is some improvement after long rests (up to six months) followed by much greater declines.  At first I sometimes experienced discomfort after running.  Now I can only walk two or three miles on easy terrain before my knee starts to complain.  It usually takes at least a week's rest before symptoms subside.  To pursue treatment further, at my own expense, would have to be a matter of faith rather than reason. 

So that, where running is concerned, seems to be that.

While I do understand that I have just been unlucky so far as the efficacy of treatment is concerned, one aspect of the care I have received has annoyed me a great deal.

So what has annoyed me?

Let me explain that I do not make the distinction, that many do, between 'conventional' and 'alternative' medicine/therapy.  Frankly, why should I care about such a distinction?  I do however distinguish between 'evidence based' and 'non evidence based' medicine/therapy.

If I am going to risk my health, physical and financial, I want to see some evidence that treatment will work.  I require that this evidence is well documented, reputable, disprovable and has an adequate sample size.  Medicine that claims to be evidence based needs to constantly monitor and re-assess new evidence to support that claim.  This is especially true where evidence for the treatment is not unequivocal, as in the present instance ¹.

So why is it that, despite multi page feedback forms that ask me what I thought about everything from the décor of the hospital room to the courtesy of the desk staff and the quality of the food, no one has bothered to enquire whether I have benefited from treatment?


¹  "...unlike knee replacement surgery, which is supported by population based patient reported outcomes (PROMs) data and the National Joint Registry, healthcare commissioners lack the necessary data to allow informed decision making for knee arthroscopy" - BMJ 2014;348:g2382 

Crossed fingers and an anti inflammatory injection in the knee joint

Well things have not worked out very well at all.  Whereas several people I know have benefited from arthroscopy for meniscus tears, my own knee is much worse than it was before the 'op.  I was OK after Mow Cop, however a five mile run the following Wednesday put paid to any thoughts I may have had about a proper (or any other) return to running.

The following day I could barely bend my knee more than ten degrees,  Although the limited movement improved, since then there have been relatively few days when even walking doesn't cause my knee to pop, click and nag.  Occasionally, an awkward foot landing will cause me enough pain to wince (or swear out loud).

I went to see the consultant again.  He recommended an anti inflammatory injection direct into the knee joint and is still optimistic about my chances of making a full recovery.  I don't dare allow myself any optimism, in the three years that I have been affected by the condition I have experienced only a substantial decline in mobility notwithstanding physiotherapy, orthoses and surgery.

Despite reservations about throwing 'good money after bad', I decided to take the advice and have the injection.  It seems plausible that mild inflammation is pushing the knee out of alignment, if the knee is misaligned movement may cause aggravation and perpetuate the swelling.  Any hope that this latest work might be 'under guarantee' was optimistic, the consultation was £70 and the injection £220.  While I would be willing to spend my life savings to be able to run again, I cannot justify funding myself for any further treatment without a more or less guaranteed outcome.

I had the injection this morning, the business was fuss free, didn't really hurt, and was over in less than a minute.  I was told to hang around in the waiting room for fifteen minutes afterwards, 'just in case', and was then free to go.  I was able to drive the thirty miles to work and was in for about nine thirty, only about an hour and a half late, a lot better than the half day off I had anticipated.  I can start running again next week if all goes as it should.

Mow Cop Hill Race, BM (and a nice cup of tea).

Six weeks after my knee op' the consultant told me I could start running again, but not to "go mad".  I ran a few short exploratory runs, then three miles of mixed road and solid trail.  All seemed well so I tried my first off road run the weekend before Mow Cop.

Mow Cop Hill Race, 6.5 miles, 1200' (FRA category BM), 12/04/15
The Met. office gave out weather alerts for the area as there was a good chance of severe winds.  The organisers called for mandatory hat and wind proof top and recommended full body cover be carried, quite right too.  As I was none too confident about finishing I had already packed a wind proof top, Mistlite pants and a micro fleece jacket anyway.

The pre race briefing

 The pre race briefing was rather comical, we were warned that straying off the path in one area might result in us being impaled on spikes in the ground and that avoiding a stile elsewhere could mean becoming ensnared in barbed wire.  This caused one wag amongst the starters to ask if we were being auditioned for a Japanese game show.  I doubt if anyone was unduly worried, the event has always been well organised, well marked and well marshalled so we were unlikely to go astray.

We were soon away and off up the slope from the village hall to the playing fields, I adopted a relaxed pace near the back, I had no intention of stressing my knee.  As we arrived at the quarry there was a fair gap between me and the runner behind.  This allowed me a photographic opportunity where we entered the quarry instead of the usual one while in the queue at the exit.

 Mow Cop Quarry

My feet seemed to find their way on the uneven ground, I had expected a bit of proprioceptive failure due to my long time out of things.  This welcome news emboldened me a little and I picked up a few places as we exited the quarry and on the trail past the Old Man of Mow.  Confidence is useful in the woods alongside Congleton Road/Mow Lane, though this year the ground wasn't that slippery and I just enjoyed the running.

Soon we were on the short section on Mow Lane then off again and into the boggy field past Limekiln Wood.  I made good progress here, passing a few people while skimming the bog on tufts of grass.  This sort of fun has to come to an end and, after a charmed run for about two thirds of the bog, my luck ran out and I went in and over.  From here on, until near the end of the race, I ran close to and occasionally chatted with (I think) Samantha Calvert, bib 98

The following fields, where the sticky mud lives, were fairly dry this year.  The pretty descent along the stream down to the lane was also less slippery, just as well as reflexes and proprioception were tested again by a sudden encounter with a fallen tree.  I took it easy on the following downhill road section, and ran on the verges rather than the tarmac to minimise impact forces.  Then came the uphill slog over fields, after leaving Yew Tree Lane, and the steep ascent up through Hanging Wood. Strangely, the path through the woods was the most churned up I have ever seen it.

A well wrapped finisher (Christopher Pimblott, M50 , bib 4).

Samantha and I were still running at a similar pace as we came out of the woods onto the skyline and then round the Old Man.  From where  the real descent to the finish starts, by the folly, I adopted a relaxed pace to 'humour' my knee.  Indeed, in what was only a mile to the end Samantha pulled more than a minute ahead of me.

A nice cup of tea.

While it had been fresh, no severe winds had made themselves felt.  Race over, I caught up with a few of the people I had met on the course.  We chatted over a nice cup of tea and extravagant quantities of the superb home made cakes on offer.  I noticed that just about every plate I saw featured more than one slice, the only sensible solution to the problem presented by wide choice.

The prize giving followed.  First placed Lady, Olivia Walwyn, broke her own record for the course by more than two minutes with a time of 00:48:49, a truly impressive performance.  Second places for both sexes were won by veterans and two MV60s were home in less than an hour.  

My thanks to the organisers and marshals.  I enjoyed myself tremendously as I have each time I have taken part.  There is something so reassuring and timeless about this kind of event with hills, streams, fields and forest, village halls, tea and home baked cakes, friendly banter, muddy legs and the smell of liniment.  If you are around next year do take part (and tell your friends about it as well).

I was happy with my own run, I felt like a runner again and nothing hurt more than it did when I started.  As it turned out I was only a minute slower than my previous worst time (though I had run 26 miles the previous day on that occasion).  Last year's Mow Cop was my first and last event of 2014.  Here's hoping that the op' has worked and that there is more to come in 2015.

Into the unknown, an everyday story of ordinary arthroscopy.

A third year of knee injury well under way, and there was still no hint of a date for an op' from the NHS.  It has been a good few years since we've had a winter like this one with snow on the hills and long periods of settled weather, missing out was more than I could bear.  I decided enough was enough and I raided my retirement savings to fund arthroscopy for medial meniscus tears myself.  Once I had made this commitment I felt deep regret at not having done so back in June when my injury was finally diagnosed after engaging the services of Nuffield Health.

Two weeks later I was standing apprehensively outside the Nuffield hospital in Clayton at seven thirty on a gorgeous crisp morning, with a few essentials in my ancient Hot Ice rucksack.  I was soon in my room, processed, then on a trolley headed for the anaesthetist with an arrow drawn on my left leg.  The anaesthetist stuck a tap in the back of my hand then plumbed me in to the sleepy stuff.  He warned me of a slight sensation of cold and told me to think of somewhere I liked to be.  Of course I imagined myself running, peacefully, effortlessly through a quiet, misty, frosted landscape, a smile came over my face and I drifted into unconsciousness.

Above:  Frosty early morning scene, a few weeks ago on my local route.  It was a scene like this one that I drifted into as I drifted out of consciousness.

I came to a while later, I felt as if I had woken from a nap, but was rather more refreshed than I would be from a natural sleep.  I was not at all hazy and knew instantly where I was and was rather relieved to note that I could feel my leg and that there was no sensation of pain.

I was soon back in my room and was at last allowed to eat, the sandwich I was given didn't touch the sides.  The consultant visited me and told me that the procedure had gone satisfactorily.  He showed me a photo of the inside of my knee in which the debris that he had removed could be seen.  He also pointed out the arthritis to the surfaces of the knee joint which he said was no more than was to be expected at my age and that it was was OK "considering what you do".

I was then visited by a physio' who asked me to perform a few simple movements.  She said that I would be given a sheet with the exercises on it then told me her department would be in touch in a few days.  She left and I started to do a few of the leg raises while I waited for my 'discharge papers'.  I had been advised to take it easy so I stopped after 70 straight leg raises, about half the number I would repeat for several sets ordinarily.

The nurses brought my 'Going Home' pack (including a video of the op), took the tap out of my hand and gave me instructions on managing dressings and so on.  I then phoned my lift, dressed and went to sit outside in the winter sun while I waited.  I read my book and did a few more leg raises, only about thirty this time due to the extra weight of my boots.  I got out the pack I had been given to check what other exercises I should be doing.  I read that I should do five leg raises, five times a day, oops!! 

Later that day the knee was still pain free and my mobility was restricted only by the bulk of the dressings.  This surprised me, I had expected swelling and pain.  I took it easy, just watching films and the like, but could stand up long enough to prepare a meal and manage stairs with ease (though one at a time in descent on my very steep Victorian stairs).  Later, as I undressed at bedtime, I realised that I was still wearing the electrodes they had attached at the hospital.

I was very impressed by the efficiency of Nuffield's organisation and care up until I was discharged from the hospital.  Getting a physio' appointment was another matter.  I was not contacted within the specified time or within the next week.  I phoned as I had been advised to do in that eventuality.

I was answered by a machine that instructed me to phone an 0845 number to make an appointment.  The mention of 0845 makes my blood, and that of all right thinking people, boil, there was worse to come when I rang the number.  After an automatic prelude, routing and call queue with awful electronic music, I was connected to the appointments operator.  This operator advised me that they could not make appointments for post op' physio', this needed to be arranged with the hospital.  He connected me to the hospital.  The hospital front desk answered, I stated my business.  The receptionist advised me that they could not make appointments at the front desk and put me through to the physiotherapy department.  I was answered by the machine telling me that to make an appointment I had to phone the 0845 number!

It took me most of the morning to break this loop of organisational incompetence.  No email address is given on the Nuffield web site and no one answers the 'Contact Us' message service (they still haven't two days later).  Eventually I got the hospital front desk to email the physio' dept. and ask them to ring me at work on my mobile. 

After this frustrating day I visited my mother in the evening.  She told me that mail for me had been delivered to her address that day,.. curious.  I opened the letter, it was from the NHS inviting me to attend an appointment on the previous Wednesday!  The letter had been sent with an incomplete (wrong) address.  That they had sent the letter to my mother's address (almost) instead of the one that I registered with the NHS twenty odd years ago and to which they have sent all previous correspondence for the last two decades, beggars belief.  I was speechless.

I wrote back politely and explained that I would be unable to keep an appointment for the previous Wednesday, that they had sent the letter to the wrong address and that it was not necessary to make another appointment as I had now decided to fund my operation myself.  I asked that they correct their records and confirm that they had done so.  I am still wound up about this two days later, a two year wait for this nonsense.

The dressings are now off my knee and the incisions are pretty much healed.  The knee is creaky though it allows day to day use, it doesn't hurt unless stressed.  It feels pretty much like it did, during 'so-so' phases, before the op'.  I hope that this is due to residual swelling from the surgery and that it will pass.  I suppose only time will tell, from what I have heard I should be able to run on it in another ten days.  Here's hoping, I need some stress relief urgently.

Thanks to the team at Clayton on the day, the two nurses and the anaesthetist were kind, caring, reassuring and efficient without ever being patronising, well done boys.  Thanks also to my sister Sandi for getting up at 05:30 to get me there on time and for getting me home afterwards.  For the team - an everyday story of ordinary arthroscopy, for me -  a singular day of extraordinary  importance.






 

This, that, Macc' Forest and Shutlingsloe, Axe Edge Moor and the other.

Still no sign of a date for my knee operation.  I am trying to make the best use of the limited mileage that the injury will stand while avoiding traveling long distances to run for a short while.  I do miss my all day runs, particularly now.  I do not know if I genuinely prefer running in winter or whether it is just association with excellent past runs (and the fact that many areas are often quieter).

Macc' Forest and Shutlingsloe 
Although I feel it is barely worth the drive to the Peak District if I am only going to run a few miles, I do sometimes treat myself.  Macclesfield Forest and Shutlingsloe is accessible and it is easy to pack the ascent in.

Left - Heading down to the reservoir from Shutlingsloe.  Right - The atmospheric path from the bridleway to Forest Chapel.

A loop from Standing Stone car park taking in Shutlingsloe (round then up from the south, down northward into the forest), the Forest Bridleway and Forest Chapel makes for an atmospheric run of around seven miles which is easily extended.  Ascent is a little less than category A by my most common variation.  Taking in Tegg's Nose gets the length up to nearly nine miles and the ascent even closer to 250' per mile.  I do find the descent from Tegg's Nose on the paved bridleway tough on the old bones though.  I used to run it frequently, as part of my old, 'standard' ultra training route.

Axe Edge Moor 
Late December saw me abandon an attempt at the Macc' Forest run.  The area was heaving with people and continuous roadside parking from Langley to Standing Stone car park (and beyond) had caused serious traffic problems on the narrow roads.  I drove past Standing Stone car park hoping to find somewhere quieter and ended up on a layby off the A54 at the side of Axe Edge Moor.  The moor was well off my map so I had to play it carefully and stick to evident paths, I tried to remember my route in order to retrace it, but I was fairly certain the distinctive imprint of my Walsh's would help me find my way back.

 Looking south east(ish), Axe Edge Moor close to the start of my run from the A54 layby.

The breeze was very light, the sun shone and a moon was just visible in the blue sky, all this and a stunning snowscape.  This was one of those runs that I will remember for a long time. 

I took the Dane Valley Way through Danebower and Reeve-edge Quarries to Orchard Farm where I left the Dane Valley Way heading towards Knotbury.  A start in Cheshire, through Derbyshire and into Staffordshire.  Originally, I had planned to run for 45 minutes then go back.  I was turning back on myself here and there as I found my way about so I decided to run for an hour instead, I was sure my way back would be truer and quicker.  I checked my watch after what seemed no more than ten minutes and I had been out for fifty!  I had been enjoying myself so much that time had just whizzed past.  I ran for another ten minutes then reluctantly turned back.

Stunning snow covered landscape and a clear blue sky.

There were few places where I could not see the route before me so finding my way back was fairly easy.  There was a confusion of paths in one hollow, but sure enough I could find my own stud pattern to guide me.

Though I doubt that ambient temperature had risen above freezing all day, the radiant heat of the sun had softened the knee deep powder on the last part of the path back.  This bit became much harder work than it had been on the way out, either because of the melting or because I was less fresh.  The snow was no longer too cold to melt on my shoes either and my feet, which had been dry so far, got quite wet.  They only had to put up with it for a few minutes though so had no time to get cold.

I got back to the layby in exactly one and a half hours so my out-back compensation guess was spot on.  I put on a jacket, dealt with frozen laces and then found my sandwich.  I put my warm hat on, but it was so hot I took it off again.  It was perfectly comfortable to let my bare feet dry in the sunshine before putting on shoes and socks for the drive home.  A truly memorable run to end 2014.


The other 
I am keeping my mileage down to a very frustrating 25 miles a week or less.  That seems to be as much as my knee can stand.  My consultant confirmed that it is OK to run providing it does not cause pain.  I am interpreting that as - 'mostly' does not cause pain, because while the occasional landing or twist does sometimes hurt, on the whole ordinary day to day use may hurt as much or more.  Tension in my quads when running seems to stabilise my knee and attention to foot placement and avoidance of twisting helps.  All the same, upping my mileage does seem to cause delayed onset pain and I do not want to risk months without running again.

I am experimenting with the proportions that make up my weekly mileage.  My longest long run since last winter has been just under 15 miles so far.  I am also running only three times a week to maximise the rest period between runs.  Though both walking and running were painful a few months ago, walking, even 20 miles or so seems entirely comfortable now (provided I start pain free).  I am trying to fit long walks into my general schedule in the hope that it will help to maintain fitness at as near pre injury levels as possible.

I am still struggling to keep my weight constant, I have now cut around 7000 calories a week from my diet!  I seem to be thinking about food all the time.  A time when it seemed impossible to eat enough feels like something I must have dreamed.

Staffordshire Moorlands Challenge Walk

I decided I would do the LDWA Staffordshire Moorlands Challenge Walk as part of my walking 'campaign'.  This turned out to rather more challenging than I had expected.

I managed to get hold of the secretary for my consultant's NHS practise.  Three months ago the consultant recommended arthroscopy to treat a meniscus tear, stating that I should be given priority due to the eighteen months that the condition had gone undiagnosed.  The secretary could not give me a date for the 'op, but told me that there were no free slots in the surgeon's existing schedule until 2015.  That was a bit of a blow and once again I considered paying the three grand plus for the surgery myself.  However, as I am now getting some use out of the knee, I am more inclined to wait a little longer.

I have done a couple of easy going twenty mile walks without incident recently, so my thoughts turned to something a little more demanding.  The LDWA Staffordshire Moorlands Challenge seemed to fit the bill at just over twenty miles with around 3000' of ascent and moorland terrain.  There are plenty of road crossings which, I thought, made the route safer for me with my present doubtful physical reliability.  It was a misty old morning when I arrived at the car park in Oakamoor, the forecast was 'changeable'.  I pulled on a thin sweater and wind proof and was on my way at a few minutes past nine.  I was soon warm enough to remove the extra layers and was comfy in a short sleeve 'T' for the rest of the day.

Still pretty misty at East Wall Farm.  Stay sharp if you take the waymarked path left instead of going straight on here.  The detour is only a few tens of metres and the stile to rejoin the track comes up pretty quickly.

The walk up through woods to Hawksmoor Cottage then down through woods to East Wall Farm was straightforward and uneventful.  At the farm the waymarked path departs from the right of way.  I took the waymarked path to 'be polite'.  Unfortunately I missed the stile to take me back onto the Staffordshire Way and continued East for a while before alarm bells started to ring.  I retraced my path and found the stile without too much trouble.  The extra distance covered and the time lost was not great, but as it turned out, a theme for the day was starting to develop.

I enjoyed the next section, from the farm to Kingsley Holt, enormously.  The route follows the Churnet for about three quarters of a mile before heading uphill through fields.  There was enough fog to give everything a romantic look without reducing visibility so much that it was a nuisance. 

The short road section at Kingsley Holt was above the mist which is still pooled in the Churnet valley.  The depth of the valley can be gauged by the fact that Bolton's chimney in Froghall, the tip of which is just visible in this photo, is 100m (328ft) tall.

Navigation out of Kingsley Holt was straightforward until after the woods at Banktop.  There, the path was not always evident on the ground.  I tried to head downward where I could and eventually ended in a field with a ford in front of me.  I looked about and found Whiston Bridge a little further left.

The level crossing on the old railway, between the bridge and the steep and overgrown 'path' up to and through Ochre Wood. 

There was no clear path on the ground up to and through Ochre Wood and the overgrown section (shown as open ground on the map) was anything but straightforward. There were a number of ways that had some wear, however they often dwindled into nothing, came to a halt at a fence or ended up veering off in another direction.  After several retries I managed to stitch together a route through and was glad to leave the steep overgrown area behind for a gentler slope through fields to the road.

 Leaving the road behind to head northwest for Froghall Wharf, the route surprises by going right underneath part of a bunch of quaint stone built cottages, fortunately there was a waymark here.

 Quaint stone built houses on the route out of Leys, the path goes right past the doorsteps and under the arch.

There is a very steep slope immediately behind the cottages and it is hard not to fall down it.  The surface is little more than leaf mould on mud anyway and even this has been mangled by 4 X 4s.  This hazard out of the way, a sharp bend in the road is skirted and the path then continues down to Froghall Wharf.

Still some mist and a weird light at Froghall Wharf, a little less than five miles behind me.

The wharf is around five miles into the walk and so, as I headed away towards Harston Rock, I decided it was time for a sandwich.  I was dismayed to find that it had taken me two and a half hours to get this far.  This was an hour behind what I thought was a conservative estimate of one and a half hours.  I had not been slacking when moving, so the time had been lost in navigational dithering and path finding.  As there were many navigational decisions yet to come I picked up the pace to compensate as I did not want to be out after dark.

I grew quite wistful as I passed Harston Rock, I never did climb 'DNA'.  I think I may have made a navigational error after exiting the woods due to my inadequate way marking of the map.  This would not have lost me any time, it was just an alternative path.  I was unaware of any error until I looked at the route (drawn solid rather than way marked) at home afterwards.

The way from Cotton to Hoften's Cross required care to link a web of paths, a lot of time was spent looking at and orientating the map and taking care not to miss a junction.  Some stiles were difficult to see due to vegetation and paths were sometimes invisible on the ground.  Despite this, this section went fairly smoothly.  I failed to take a photo of the tumulus above

Hoften's Cross, I thought I would get a better angle as I walked up the road.  In fact the tumulus became progressively more hidden and I missed my chance, I did see some good donkeys though.

Gorgeous donkeys on the short section along the A52 at Cauldon Lowe.

The route from Hoften's Cross, past Wardlow Quarry and Weaver Hills was straightforward, although I could really crack on here the distance was not great enough to make up a lot of time.  The trig point of 'The Walk' making ninety degrees with the path marked ten miles, time for a sandwich and time check.  I was still making poor time but had completed the last five miles in two hours so was in with a chance of getting back before dark if I could keep it up.

The next section, to Stanton, was again characterised by some overgrown stiles and few traces of paths on the ground.  While navigation was not difficult, it was necessary to keep the map orientated and 'follow your thumb' most of the time.  I almost walked into a drystone wall whilst trying to carry on walking and study the map for the next turn.  I did have to make a detour to avoid cows with calves in one very long and very inescapable field.  Typically, the detour would have added nothing had I taken it in the first place rather than having to walk back to pick it up.

Saint Mary's church signals one's arrival into Stanton.

The minor road is followed out of Stanton before peeling off south east to follow Ordley Brook.  There is a finger post from the road so despite the very overgrown start to the track it is not too hard to find.  The route follows the valley bottom so I could at last just follow my feet for a couple of miles.  This was especially welcome as I was off the edge of my map for a while.  After the overgrown start, the going was not too bad and I ran pretty much all of this section.  The sound of shotguns in the poorly lit woods added urgency to my footsteps!

Top of the path running down to Ordley Brook.  There were many such obstacles to progress during the day.  At least this overgrown path had a finger post. The physical effect on progress was minor compared to the wearing nature of the constant challenge to navigational confidence.

I was soon on Guisley Lane, then on a short section of footpath to Upper Ellastone with its Balwen Mountain Sheep (black and white sheep that look like sheep dogs), Grade II listed (St Peter's) church and lychgate.  Ellastone is about three quarters of the way round the route so it was time for another sandwich.  I had lost more time on the way to Stanton, but had more than made up for it from Stanton to Ellastone.  I was now on course to finish in about eight and a quarter hours, well behind my original estimate of six hours, but good enough to quell worries about darkness falling.  I allowed myself a short break while I ate, the only break of the day.

Above - The Grade II listed St. Peter's Church in Upper Ellastone.  Below - The St. Peter's lychgate.

I headed out of Ellastone, it was not long before I was walking along Prestwood Lane and off the bottom of my printed map.   I had pencilled a few notes "follow to Quixhill Lane then take path and head NNE for Churnet Valley".  This had seemed adequate when my memory of the complete map was still fresh.  I did remember the general lay of the land, but Prestwood Lane seemed longer than I expected and my confidence started to waver.  I kept going and the sharp bend in the lane with an obvious path to the right eventually appeared, phew.  I also dithered a little in the valley when I got there as I could not remember how much ground I had to cover before I walked back onto the map.  In the end I remembered that it did not really matter, I only had to follow the river.

I relocated myself at 'The Sprink' the first feature at the bottom of my map.  The challenge route follows the river rather than the railway path and I think this is probably the more pleasant way to go.  This valley section allowed quick progress to Alton and another line of notes at my map's margin.  I found the route without problems despite feeling a bit of a panic that my notes would not be enough.  Further on though, I regretted not taking more care when I failed to pick up the path again after coming down to the road.  This resulted in a mile more tarmac than was necessary on the way back to Oakamoor.

 Oakamoor and the road home (photo' taken in the morning, not on my return in the evening).

Despite the early fog and later haze obscuring the more distant views this was a pleasant walk.  Tree lined valleys can be lovely, but can get boring if not broken up,  this walk provides the necessary variety (in the last Churnet section, the valley is broad enough to see more than just the next tree anyway).

I was eight hours and forty five minutes on this route.  I took comparatively few photographs, nearly all the time over my six hour estimate was used up navigating and path finding.  Navigation was not particularly difficult, there was just so much of it to be done.  Those who do not have to change/don spectacles every time they need to look at a map closely, then change/remove them again to see ahead, may have an easier time of it.  Some stiles and paths took quite a bit of dithering to find, many were overgrown/not evident on the ground.  I get the impression that I may have been the only person to use some of these paths in quite a while.

There were a good few fields with cattle.  I stuck to the periphery of these fields to allow escape (excepting one noted earlier), this would also have lengthened the route somewhat.  As it happened, at no time did any cattle show much interest in me which made a pleasant change.  I get the feeling that cattle are less curious about/threatened by walkers than runners.

In retrospect I would have left more time to enjoy this route as well as to navigate it.  There are views that are best enjoyed by stopping and turning round (particularly the extensive views north from the Weaver Hills).  I suppose investing in an extra sheet of A4 wouldn't have been a bad idea either, but the route so 'almost' fit one double sided print!