It's all uphill

"I wish I were as cocksure of anything as Tom Macaulay is of everything." -  William Lamb, 2nd Viscount Melbourne.


Here we are, well into June and I am still not back on the hills¹.  At least some fairly lightweight walking is now possible, I've even had the odd canter for a few hundred metres on straightforward paths.  As my GP wasn't going to refer me further (and my attempts to change practice have been fruitless so far*), I decided on finding another physiotherapist.  The aim here was to find a physio' that could refer me on if necessary.  This has meant making a commitment to pursuing general private health care on a 'pay as you go basis', not a decision I was too sure about.

The Nuffield physiotherapist questioned me thoroughly then did a thing called "an examination", GPs might consider adopting this practise.  She  told me that physiotherapy was not going to help me and referred me to a consultant.  Her diagnosis was that the problem was a 'healed' cartilage injury, probably the one I sustained about eighteen months ago, and other injuries due to compensation.  It was for this kind of candid appraisal that I chose an integrated health service.  Call me cynical, but I believe it less likely that a 'stand alone' physio' would admit that they couldn't help (and I have the bills to substantiate this belief).  She thought it likely that surgery could help.

Managing the odd five miles of walking if I take it steady - Shacklow Bone Mill on the River Wye.

My appointment with the consultant was on the 24th.  He examined me, concurred with the physio's diagnosis then sent me for an MRI that afternoon to confirm that surgery is warranted.  At the end of the MRI scan I was given a disc to take back to the consultant.

At all times, my experience has been of a punctual, competent, efficient, polite and generally well run service.   This impressed me, what impressed me more was that resources were sufficient for the job, but no money had been wasted on that which would be superfluous.  The last point was particularly important to one who was  spending more money in a day than at any other time in his life, except when a car had needed replacing.

My next appointment with the consultant is on the first of July.  There are only two possible outcomes from this meeting, I learn that surgery is not going to be beneficial or that surgery might be beneficial.  If surgery will help, I will have to decide whether I am prepared to spend the major portion of my life savings to be able to run again.  For once I am pretty sure about something - wouldn't you be?


¹ For first time readers - Pain in my left knee is preventing me from running, my GP has told me that my varicose veins are the culprit.

*It may be possible for me to change from the worst surgery in the area to the second worst.  Moving house to get into the catchment area of one of the better surgeries would be much more expensive than paying for my own op' (though would have benefits in the long run).

May and still still after six weeks

I'm pretty much speechless with frustration.  I am still not able to resume training.  Everything was going well, I was fitter than ever, 20 to 28 miles over the hills at an easy pace had become entirely comfortable, then suddenly I'm a non runner again.  I felt a little better a couple of weeks ago so tried an exploratory run of around five and a half miles.  My left knee hurt a little at the time and a couple of days later was the worst it has been.  This weekend, a few hundred metres was enough to cause searing pain.

I ran just over 250 miles between the end of February and the beginning of April.  I developed my injury on the second of two back to back weekends of 26 +10 miles.  There was no real warning, I just started to feel knee pain at the beginning of the second 26, it eased and I ran the +10 without too much trouble.  The pain developed during the following rest day.  After an easy week I ran the 6.5 mile Mow Cop Race, which hurt toward the end.  Since then I have only run the trial runs described above.  I am in a worse state after six weeks rest than when I started.

I have managed to get out and walk some of my local area which has allowed me to do some litter picking in Apedale.  When the pain is at its worst even walking is out.  It is particularly frustrating not to be out at this time of year while nature is so beautiful and eventful.

A clearing on my home route, the Hawthorn is also wonderful this year and the first roses are now in bloom.

Recommencement of mining at Bignall

I have managed to find out little concerning the progress of the application for the recommencement of mining on Bignall/Old Hill that I mentioned back in March.  As far as I am aware the planning application is still being considered by Staffordshire County Council.  The official name of the proposed development is Great Oak, though this name refers to an area further west than the proposed development.  Links to documents can be found at UK Coal and Staffs CC.  There is an action group Facebook page here.

Below is a bit of an Old Hill gallery in case the real thing is dug up.

 

Mow Cop Hill Race 6.5 miles BM 06/04/14

Summer time again.  The clock change meant a couple of things in the coming week, no need for a head torch in the evening and Mow Cop Hill Race.  This year I was able to plan my training schedule a little better and so avoid running 26 miles the day before Mow Cop.  Not that everything went smoothly this year.

  I seem to have developed a knee injury in addition to my long standing one.  The knee started to hurt at the beginning of last weekend's long run, an unexceptional tour of local footpaths.  It didn't seem any worse 26 miles later so I did my usual 10 miles the next day.  It stiffened up at work so I rested most of the week, though I did 8 miles on Wednesday.  The knee was still hurting on Sunday morning, but as it seemed to ease up with movement I decided to run.

The weather forecast for the race was not at all good, an 80% chance of heavy rain.  This on top of a few days of rain and a very wet winter, it was going to be muddy.  The usual field used for parking was not available as it was too soggy.  Consequently, there was a big squeeze into the Village Hall car park, managed excellently by the hard working marshals.  This did have the benefit that the beautiful horses who occupy the field above the normal parking field could be seen playing on the skyline.

Horses frolicking on the skyline, bit blurry I am afraid as this was something of a long shot.

Despite the forecast there was a good turn out and to reward us the weather was, so far, dry.  I had a good warm up run to unseize my knee.  Ambient temperature was surprisingly high and I decided to ditch my long sleeve top before the start.

At the start, a good turn out despite the poor weather forecast.

I noticed that, like myself, just about everyone had chosen minimalist fell shoes despite the significant amount of road and hard packed trail.  After the usual talk we were off.  I made a reasonably quick start trying to make a compromise between wasting effort speeding to a halt at the first stile and not arriving so late that the queue was excessively long.  I was already very glad that I had ditched the long sleeve top.

Queuing for the first stile.  The bum bags suggest that I am not the only one who decided to carry a waterproof.

As the field opened out I spotted a few familiar runners,  Debbie Hill was just ahead.  I usually finish fairly close to, but behind, Debbie, who I know only from result lists.  We were soon in the quarry where I anticipated a bottleneck that would allow another photograph.

Mow Cop Quarry, Debbie Hill (nearest) and Charmaine Wood in the Congleton Harriers tops.

 Also anticipated was that the Gritstone Trail through the trees near Roepark Farm would be slippery, and that the subsequent usually boggy field would be more than usually boggy.  There was no disappointment in either of these respects.  I overtook Debbie Hill somewhere in the boggy field, where at least one participant stopped to replace a shoe (at least he recovered it).  I expected Debbie would re pass me when the going firmed up.

I ran on my own for a while, though I could see a couple of runners some way ahead.  I measured my pace and reckoned I was capable of a bit more effort.  I gradually closed the gap across grass and on the slippery downhill stream side path.  There really is some good and varied scenery in just 6.5 miles.  By the time we reached the first bend in the road I was only a few paces behind a runner in a Congleton Harriers top (Bib 54, Charmaine Wood).  As the road levelled I found it hard to keep up, but stuck with her.

When we hit the dirt again I started to gain on the runner ahead and as the gradient steepened I went past her.  I felt unusually strong on the steep climb where the South Cheshire Way turns up through Quarry Wood, I'll swear it was shorter this year.

I managed to stay strong to the finish and I dare say I could have shaved off ten or more seconds in the final descent if I was less of a scaredy-cat.

I finished shortly before Charmaine, I shook her hand and told her how much fun it had been to chase her.  I also managed to stay ahead of Debbie, for a change.  I shook her hand too and explained that I knew her by sight and pace.

I finished in 01:05:13.  I'm happy enough with that in this year's conditions, and pleased with how I coped with the filth (all those evening, muddy tree roots by torchlight must have helped).  Special congratulations to Olivia Walwyn of Altrincham AC who came in 7th overall and first lady at 00:50:59 (which I am pretty sure is a clear course record).  Full results are at Mow Cop Runners.  It never did rain.

The knee had hurt in the last mile, was OK later in the day, was a bit stiff on Monday, ..Tuesday morning and it hurts like rest.

Thanks to Mow Cop Runners for organising this  event, it's always fun.  I don't know what kind of arrangement they had to make to keep the rain off.  Whatever it was, we are all very grateful.
 

Ladybower's eastern side.

A very varied jaunt of around 26 miles and 4700'+ of ascent.  Started from Cutthroat bridge and taking in Bradfield Dale, Broomhead Moor, Ewden Beck, Stirling wreck, Derwent and Bamford Edges.

The forecast for Saturday was not good, starting bright, but then showers some heavy and brisk winds.  As it turned out things were quite a lot worse than anticipated.  While not needing any of the extra gear I always insist on lugging around, I would have felt foolish and vulnerable had I not been carrying it.

I started on the Moscar path towards Strines Reservoir, this was pleasantly green, and I soon met the minor road which I would follow until leaving on the path past Sugworth Hall.  As tarmac sections go this was not bad at all, lovely views and a verge good enough to run on.  

There's tarmac and there's tarmac.  Minor road on the way to Sugworth Hall, Boot's tower lit by the sun.

The footpath, part of Sheffield Country Walk, goes through a 'tradesmen's entrance' to the side of the main gate to Sugworth Hall.  The main driveway is then followed before scuttling right into ancient rhododendrons.  The well maintained path wriggles delightfully through the  tangled shrubs.  Almost as soon as one's eyes have become accustomed to the shade, they are dazzled by the light streaming through the arch that forms the exit.

Footpath through the rhododendrons skirting Sugworth Hall.

As the eyes become re accustomed to daylight one can make out Boot's Tower framed in the arch (unfortunately not visible in the photo above as I neglected to use HDR mode).

The path passes within a hundred metres of the tower shortly,  access is permitted though I was unaware of this at the time.

Boot's Tower aka Boot's Folly aka Sugworth etc., etc.

It was a real pleasure to cross this open ground, a nice grassy path firm under foot, great views all round and the weather still holding.  The path starts downhill and then swings north east, approaching Strines Reservoir near its dam then following Dale Dike Reservoir.  March 2014 marks the 150th anniversary of the collapse of Dale Dike Dam and the event is commemorated in Bradfield.

 There is a choice of paths here, a lower path right on the reservoir's  shore and a higher parallel path.  I followed the higher path as I thought the views would be better (though it meant more tarmac later), I was not disappointed the views were superb.

Superb views of gentle countryside from Sheffield Country Walk path, Bradfield Dale.

The path swings up through woods to Blindside Lane, I followed the tarmac lane the couple of kilometres to Low Bradfield, there was plenty of interest.  Low Bradfield is quite lovely, a model village.  So much scenery behind me and only five miles into my run.  I ate a bun and had a good swig of cola.

Navigation now became a little trickier than I had anticipated.  My printer had failed to reproduce a rather important two centimetres of map.  I had not worried unduly as I just had to follow the edge of Agden Reservoir, unfortunately it was not visible from the road in.  In fact this reservoir turned out to be rather well hidden, for such a large mass of water, until one was a stones throw away.

I set off in the right general direction (north) and soon passed a Smallfield Lane, this was promising as Smallfield was the next visible thing on my map.  However a rather beautiful village, hanging in the hillside above me, caught my eye and I determined to take it in.  This village is High Bradfield, one of the most charming villages I have ever had the fortune to visit.  The photograph below gives a taste I hope.  This is somewhere I look forward to revisiting when I have time for lunch and a pint.

The charming village of High Bradfield, hung high on the hillside (and visited by Sheffield Country Walk).

I left High Bradfield, with some regret and turned back for Smallfield Lane.  There followed around two and a half kilometres of tarmac before swinging east across the moors on Dukes Road (path).  I had checked this section of tarmac on Google Street View and it looked pretty enough, it did not disappoint.

Dukes Road would be very difficult to miss.  No sooner are you on this bridleway, at first wide and well made, than the gentle views  give way to bleak moorland.  Looking behind me I could see the industrial cities of South Yorkshire, ahead was the High Peak, slightly left (south west) an ominous darkness was gathering.  As this was the direction of the wind, I elected to get into my waterproof while I was still dry.  This turned out to be a good call, by the time I had unrolled the jacket and got into it the rain was upon me, light at first, hail soon followed.  There was enough wind for the hail to hurt.

I ran on until I crossed Rushy Dike.  I intended to leave Dukes Road where it turns south west, however I was not sure whether the turn was clear enough to be easily noticeable.  Consequently I decided to keep my eye on the time, after crossing Rushy Dike, as there was little else to navigate by.  When the the bend came, it was pretty noticeable on the ground.

I left the path to head northish over the open moor, following the compass as there really was nothing to see.  I was aiming just east of grid north.  I wanted to meet Ewden Beck near where it is joined by Oaken Clough, it made sense to aim off to the east and follow Ewden Beck west.  Eventually I saw the shooting lodge to my right and the tree lined valley ahead.  I was pretty much bang on target which really had a lot to do with luck as I had had to follow groughs and detour round bog.

The valley floor, wonders both natural and unnatural.

I made my way down the valley side, indirectly, but safely.  This valley is the stuff that fairy tales are made of.  Everywhere was soft green and mossy, the river tumbled between boulders while rowan and birch looked kindly on.  Even the weather relented as if to smile on this magical place. It would be hard to imagine more of a contrast than between this scene and the bleak moorland I had just left.  I reached the valley floor at the junction with Oaken Clough.  I paused to get some photos of the stream, out of the top corner of my right eye I spotted something that was not of natural origin.

This was part of the wreckage of Short Sterling LJ628, fuselage ribs probably.  LJ628 crashed onto the moor on 21st July 1944 and despite the plane being smashed to pieces all ten of the crew survived, eight of the ten walked out!  I had not expected to see wreckage here as I was some way from the crash site.  I was also surprised that these pieces were so large, I thought all significant stuff had been taken by the Stirling Aircraft Project in 2005.

Close up of the debris seen at top right of the photo above.

Another aluminium rib.

Part of an aerofoil and control surface (and dead sheep for scale and atmosphere).

As I followed the beck I saw more large pieces of the aircraft including a section of aerofoil and pivoted control surfaces.  I had heard that some pieces of wreckage had been spotted remote from the crash site (at an unreported location).  Maybe they have been carried here then abandoned or maybe they were blown here when they still had significant amounts of sheet metal attached to catch the wind.

A tranquil, magical place.

I followed Stainery Clough out, the wooded valley soon gave way to open moorland again.  As if to emphasise the change in scenery, the hail re started with a vengeance.  Visibility became quite poor and the wind became bitter.  It was time for a bite to eat, but it was too wet and cold to stop and fuss.  I determined to make my way back onto the main route.

I set off on a bearing again, I had expected to run a bearing notwithstanding the weather, there would have been little to see had the visibility been better.  The aim was to meet the path some way after I had left it, but before the Howden Edge/Cartledge Stones Ridge fork.  I had enjoyed the path above Abbey Brook last time I was here and was determined to see more of it rather than take the shorter ridge path to Back Tor.  Several mountain hares later I dropped onto the path exactly where planned, a lot of luck must have been involved as I was drifting too far east every time I checked my bearing.  Somehow my guestimated course corrections seem to have worked out about right.

The narrow path high above Abbey Brook is pretty special, it is also pretty scary.  The hail had beaten up a fair muddy covering on the path, I took it steady.  There were gaps in the hail that allowed the odd snap, though I had nothing left that was dry enough to wipe the lens cover glass by now.

Path high above Abbey Brook, a break in the hail before turning south.  One wouldn't want to slip here.

The exhilaration of the Abbey Brook path over, it was time to swing back south along the track following Sheepfold Clough and on to Lost Lad, Back Tor and then follow the Derwent Edge path back down the reservoir.  The hail came hard for most of the run back, I found some shelter behind a boulder to get a bun and swap my cola bottle for a full one.

Eerie lighting, glimpses of a view through clearings in the cloud, sometimes I would see cloud below me over the reservoir.

I had the option of including a planned loop taking in Bamford Edge or heading back to Cutthroat bridge.  Despite the weather I was feeling OK and was well up for another six miles or so.  Shortly before the descent from Derwent Edge the weather relented as if to encourage me in my endeavour.  I took the 'straight off the end' path this time, an unlikely and fairly direct route to join the road for Bamford.

An unlikely looking descent.

I crossed Ladybower on the A6103 then took the footpath down to the Derwent and Yorkshire Bridge.  Here I picked up the bridleway to take the Long Tour of Bradwell route to the crossing at Bamford Mills and on up to New Road.  As I left New Road and started up for Bamford Edge the weather started to close in again.  I quickly took the photo below thinking that it might be the only one I would get of the Edge.  As can be seen, wiping the cover glass was still a problem.

I thought this might be the day's one and only photo of Bamford Edge as the weather closed in.

It was not long before the wind and hail reached a ferocious pitch, the hail was in my face and really painful.  I pulled my buff right up and well over my nose so that it was just under my specs.  Somewhat surprisingly this actually stopped my specs steaming up, this had been a significant problem when I zipped my jacket right up.

I started to feel the cold a bit, feeling in my fingertips had been something of a variable commodity for some hours, but in general I had stayed warm enough.  Now the cold started to be a bit threatening, I was glad I had eaten again at Yorkshire Bridge.  As I was still feeling fine I picked up my speed a little to keep warm.  I took in my surroundings, felt the weather increase its efforts, chuckled a little and thought to myself, "this is where I want to be", as long as my feet don't hurt I'm good.

Bamford Edge, the hail was starting to settle quite well.

Despite the fact that I was still enjoying  myself, the threatening cold made me glad to be near the end of my run.  I took a few more pictures figuring that they would illustrate how bad the weather was if nothing else.

As I turned east towards Cutthroat Bridge the hail eased a little and for the first time I could see, in the distance, just how much had settled where conditions were favourable.

It did not take long to cover the remaining distance to the car, improving visibility meant that I could navigate by sight.  I planned an optimum sequence of unlocking car doors, removing and replacing clothing, setting of the blowers and eating buns, while I ran.  I was that cold.

Hail settling like snow in the distance.

My last bun on the inside and fibre pile on the outside I set off for Bradwell where I intended a serious raid on the Co-op.  I had not warmed up fully and my teeth began to chatter as I shopped.  The cashier, kindly, asked if I was OK.  I explained that I had been running and would be fine once I had eaten the armfuls of food I had swept up.  Another customer said that he was running a marathon, Manchester, for the first time and had just completed his last long training run.  I wished him the best then set about my feast in the car park, there were no chipotle wraps this time (the falafel ones are not bad).


Another cracking run* in the Peak District.  This one really had it in variety of both scenery and terrain.  I must visit Ewden Beck again and the Bradfields, I also want to do even more of the Abbey Brook path.


Given the weather I was pretty comfortable and I am happy with my present gear choices.  I was particularly pleased with my Montane Minimus waterproof jacket.

Sunday's ten miles at home went smoothly, I was lucky with a weather window.  Old Hill looked particularly fine, the thought of it being torn up by bulldozers choked me.

Old Hill, looking fine on a March day.

*Run/walk to be accurate, the Ewden Beck section was not runnable.

Bradwell, Stanage, Burbage and a bit of the Derwent Valley.

A pleasant and varied 20 miles or so with 3,385' of ascent.  The basic theme of the route was to run the Long Tour of Bradwell eastern half rather than following a skyline, watershed or what have you.  My route took me from Bradwell to; Aston, Ladybower, Bamford, Stanage skyline, Burbage, Upper Padley, Leadmill, Abney and back to Bradwell. 

I decided to run this route on Saturday more because it was a convenient length and had good view potential rather than as a recce for the Long Tour.  All the same, it did give me the chance to re familiarise myself with some sections where navigation is tricky.  I started north from Bradwell village and then via the footbridge at Hope Station took the footpath to join the route proper at Aston.  A mist hung over the fields below me as I continued north towards the woods on the western side of the Ladybower dam.  Last time I was here I could see the gritstone edges to the east.  There were no distant views today, but I enjoyed the subtle fade to grey of the views to my right where the mist was lighter.   On my left swirls moved in the corner of my eye, sometimes falling back sometimes moving ahead.  It was as if I had companions, spectres jostling for position on the narrow path.

Misty morning, on the way to Ladybower from Aston.

I was soon at the highest point of this climb and so started the descent, gentle through the remains of bracken, then steeper in the woods on to what would be the midway point at just over 16 miles (CP8) in the race.  A hard turn south east and a short steep path took me down to the broad track alongside the reservoir past the overflow to the dam.  There was a lot less water going down the overflow than when I was here three weeks ago.  

A lot less water going down the plug'ole than last time I was here.

The 'Tour' then follows the made track alongside Carr Lane, the track crosses the lane after about 1500 metres.  Shortly after this the route leaves the track to follow a delightful path across green fields on the Derwent flood plain, to Bamford.

The Derwent crossing at Bamford really is something special, a collection of rude bridges linking piers, planks connecting widely spaced blocks and simple stepping stones.  The weirs and mill complete the scene with an attractive dynamic backdrop.  This all seems rather apt as it is thought that the name 'Bamford' comes from the Anglo-Saxon Bēamford meaning "tree-trunk ford".

Thornhill side of the crazy Derwent crossing at Bamford.

Bamford side of the crazy crossing.

I made my way through the village to the bottom of Bamford Clough.  Here a bit of a problem presented itself.  Bamford Clough was fenced off and closure notices were displayed prominently.  Apparently it had been closed since October and was to remain closed until April due to "exposed cables".  As no other alternative existed I decided to take the Leeside Road ; -). 

I made my way up the steep lane,  the concrete that has been dumped here and there was as slippery as ice.  The mist was waiting for me again as I emerged onto New Road, trees looked spooky cloaked in grey, there was still no sign of Stanage Edge.

A mad tree on Bole Hill, Stanage.

I followed the Long Causeway where it leaves the road and turns into track, past the car park, past woods and past climbers making their way up to the rocks.  At last, where the Causeway starts to swing east, I saw the edge looming above.  It was not long before I had made my way through the obvious break and turned off the track to follow the skyline path south east.

First sight of Stanage Edge, from Stanage causeway.

As the skyline mostly follows a contour line, I had looked forward to a bit of a rest when I ran this section in the Long Tour.  Rest it was not, the almost continuous trip hazards mean picking your feet up high and looking down to study the path immediately ahead.  Today, as I had arrived here much fresher, it was considerably easier to negotiate the rocky path.

At times, as I headed towards the southern trig point, the mist lifted a little and I could just make out Hope cement works shining a silvery white out there in the grey.

Stanage southern trig point, the mist is starting to clear.

In the kilometre from the trig point to Upper Burbage Bridge visibility improved considerably, this was welcome and earlier than forecast.  At the bridge, a little over ten miles or about halfway into today's route, I rearranged my ruck sac taking out a bun and some flapjack, finished a bottle of cola and put a full one in the side pocket.  I went through the stile and down to ford the streams, at the second arch I saw a nice black Labrador having a bath after a fell run.  The path beneath Burbage Rocks is well made and is downhill all the way to the Lower Bridge.  I passed many climbers with huge bouldering mats coming up the path.

Upper Burbage Bridge.

I crossed the road where the path ends near the Lower Bridge, I found a stile and short path leading along the road to the bridge and brook path.  This saved negotiating the dangerous bit of road by the bridge, I had not noticed this short path when running the Long Tour.

The path alongside Burbage Brook is really rather nice, it also very accessible so can be popular.  The route leaves the main path after a while and takes minor paths over Bole Hill* (the second and one of three Bole Hills within a few square miles) and through Bolehill Woods to Upper Padley.  Navigation is a bit tricky here, I had done OK in the event back in 2012, but knew that there was a more direct line.  Today I was determined to find it.

Burbage Brook meanders near Lawrence Field.

Near Lawrence Field (the field north east of the quarry that climbers know as 'Lawrencefield') I moved right off the main path and took a minor path that looked like it would skirt the edge of the woods, an efficient line.  The path seemed to come to an end in a tiny quarry.  The quarry was a gem of a place, full of millstones.  Now it is not uncommon to see the odd millstone in a quarry in Derbyshire or Staffordshire, it is unusual to see tens of perfectly formed and finished stones together.  Some were even stacked as if waiting to be picked for an order that never came.

I found a way up through the quarry, it looked like others had used the same route up which was heartening, and sure enough the path continued on the higher ground.

Abandoned stones in a tiny quarry.

My choice of path turned out to be fortuitous for a reason other than the discovery of the gem of a quarry.  Not far down the path, there in the dead bracken was some paper crisp edged and well defined, not your average piece of a litter but a pristine twenty quid note!  It was a little damp, but otherwise OK, I put it into my ruck sac pocket for safe keeping.

You don't see many of these in the wild!

I carried on down my chosen path, a larger path crossed after a while, which suggested I was on target and sure enough the gate through a wall into Bolehill Wood (CP14 in the event) appeared shortly.  I had forgotten how steep the descent through the wood and past the main quarry was.  Though it took me by surprise I handled it without incident.  There were a couple of moments of 'doubtful control' but on the whole I was pleased with how much better I am handling descents these days.

Crossing the bridge over the railway takes one past signals with the semaphore arm and lamps at eye level.  This unusual view fascinated me and I had to have a photo or two.  The improving light allowed a reasonable depth of focus on the tracks and signal box in the back drop.

Nice old railway signal from the bridge at Upper Padley, looking in the direction of Grindleford Station.

I had fond memories of the path along the Derwent to Leadmill Bridge, it was green, easy going and peaceful, even twenty five miles into an event it seemed restful.  Today I had run considerably less than that so this section seemed shorter than I had remembered.

 

Leadmill Bridge.

I turned onto the road and over the bridge, second right up the lane to Hazelford Hall to follow the tracks and paths along Highlow Brook (past the third Bole Hill) before taking Abney Clough, at Stoke Ford, for Abney.  I made sure I could locate the check point for myself at Stoke Ford, I happened to be temporarily running with someone who knew the location  in 2012.  It all seemed a bit easier when I was not feeling the mental numbness from the exhaustion of my first ultra.

However, despite my sharper mental state I managed to make a corker of a navigational error in the last few miles.  I navigated onto the lane out of Abney and onto the byway.  For some reason I then forgot to navigate further.  I must have run about a kilometre down the byway and past the path that turned down Bradwell Edge before I noticed what I had done.  I had to own up to that mistake as anyone who knows the route will know that I could not otherwise have taken the photo below.

Looking north from Brough Lane.

The descent down the Edge to Bradwell is steep, here one becomes very aware of how much of a battering one's toes have already suffered.  I completed the descent then managed a good pace through the village.  There is over a kilometre of tarmac before the finish, this is easily forgotten when descending the edge.

I was pleased with my run, I had managed a much better pace than in recent runs, it was my first 50+ mile week since last July and also heralded the start of proper back to back ultra training again.  I sat in Bradwell Coop car park with a sandwich and litre of strawberry milk for recovery.  I looked up at Bradwell Edge and do you know, from that angle, it was very hard to believe that it was even possible to run down it.  I gave myself a little nod of respect.

I felt fine on Sunday's back to back, I enjoyed my local route as much as I always do.  The particularly fine weather had me out smiling in shorts and short sleeves.  The mood was somewhat spoiled when I saw a planning notice for an open cast mine tied to a stile on Bignall Hill!  This will affect a number of the paths that I use and I can't see it improving the view, bugger.

* Update - A little research has informed me that a Bole hill or Bail hill was a place where lead was smelted in the open air.  The name is a description rather than place name (though it may later become incorporated into or become a place name). 

Back to back to backs

Day to day
My left knee injury is holding up as I start to increase my mileage back up to 2012 levels.  I have now finished an easy going 'back to marathon fitness' phase of my training.  I followed this with a couple of easy weekends and it is now time to restart back to back runs.  If all goes well after the first back to back 'hard' weeks of back to backs I will start to enter some ultras.  I am hoping there will still be places for the Ultra Brecon 50.

There is no doubt that my knee injury is still there, but reducing my stride length seems to have kept things from flaring up. I do seem to be running quite a bit more slowly than I used to.  I am not yet sure whether this is due to the change in stride length, age related decline or the lack of any speed work for a good while.  As my confidence in the knee increases I have now rescheduled some speed work back into my training.  A 10k lunch break pace session and a couple of other fast short runs didn't seem to do any harm.

The fast runs were run without orthoses in what, these days, would be described as 'minimalist' or 'barefoot' footwear or what runners of my vintage would call 'shoes'.  This is not to say that my physio's warnings were wrong, my shortened stride and the shoe type more or less preclude heel landing and consequent foot rolling.  However, the reason I have shortened my stride is not to prevent over pronation, it is because hyper extension of my knee hurts in real time.  Especially, shock following an over extended landing, i.e. jarring a foot when the knee is more than straight, causes excruciating pain and is probably the cause of past 'flare ups'.


Lighter evenings
It is still pretty dark for most of my longer midweek run, though there is some light in the sky for the first three miles now.  It has been fun navigating new extensions by head torch.

Some light in the sky now, though this is still early in my evening run.  Wedgwood monument Old Hill, Bignall End.

I cover some of the same ground in daylight on rest weekends.  I am getting to the point where I have to carry reading glasses for navigation, so I was surprised that my eye was caught by fungi only about 10mm across the other Sunday.  Apparently these are Scarlet Elf Cups, Sarcoscypha austriaca.  When I got closer I found more and larger fruiting bodies though the colour was not so good as those shown.

Bright red fungus, larger associated growths were not quite so intense in colour.

I tend to enjoy my midweek long run all through the year now.  Buying a head torch good enough to use off road must be one of the best decisions I have ever made.  I was starting to have serious motivational problems as a result of having to use routes lit by street lights.  I bought a Silva Trail Runner, the extra downward shining LEDs are a nice touch and I find it works well for me.  The Li ion rechargeable model wasn't made when I bought mine.  I have the old four AA cell waist belt type which I use with 2500 mAh rechargeable batteries.

All around all the reservoirs - A Ladybower Loop

A circuit of Ladybower, Upper Derwent and Howden reservoirs, from Cutthroat Bridge.  Taking in Derwent Edge, Margery Hill, Slippery Stones, Alport Castles, Win Hill and Yorkshire Bridge.  Great views, varied terrain and a cracking last day out for my venerable C-lite 2s (may their soles rest in peace).  25.5 miles, 5635' of ascent.

The views on this route start straight away, taking the path from Cutthroat bridge past Ladybower Wood to Ashopton quickly reveals wooded slopes and the reservoir.  Turning north and contouring for a while set the tone for the rest of the day, fine fore, middle and distant views all at the same time.

Fine views before you've hardly started. 

I was soon leaving the wooded valley side and heading up past Hurkling Stones onto Derwent Moors.  The views just kept getting better and better as I headed towards the Wheel Stones, as the OS map calls them, also known as Coach and Horses.

The route had more stones than you can shake a stick at and I soon lost track, pretty sure these are Hurkling Stones. 

Most of the time there was a rock formation immediately ahead, the next and often another was usually in sight and further in the distance the great land masses of the peak could be seen.

Looking north along Derwent Edge - Wheel Stones or Coach and Horses on the right.

The edge continues to drop away sharply until a little after Dovestones Tor, now the edge on the west becomes less steep and the drop to the east steeper so that the path follows a broad ridge.  Even here there is little to obstruct distant views as the ground is not that bumpy.

Back Tor.  The 'edge' path now follows a broad ridge, Lost Lad is just visible on the near horizon. 

Stones continue to mark progress until Lost Lad is reached and the paths start to drop away sharply.  I headed north, north east on a track towards Berristers Tor.  The plan was to cross Abbey Brook and take a more or less direct line following Howden Edge to Featherbed Moss and then to join the path to Margery Hill shortly after.  This was a line I had read about and which made sense.

When I reached the crossing with the right of way at Abbey Brook I could see my intended line ahead.  However, I could not see a safe way to cross Abbey Brook which ran in a steep sided groove.  Instead, I followed the RoW east until an easy crossing presented itself about a kilometre later.  I must come back to follow some more of this path, I thought it outstandingly pretty and do not regret the detour at all.  The bash across open moors back to Featherbed Moss was hard going and I frequently had to stop running to avoid tripping.  I was lucky enough to see three mountain hares in their winter coats here, by 'eck they are big.  They weren't stopping to have their photos taken unfortunately.

Green and pleasant, Berristers Tor left and the right of way path east.

Once back on Howden Edge my route became obvious once more.  Various stones and outcrops punctuated the way, though none were as outstanding as those on Derwent Edge.  A strong wind blew in from the west and a chill began to creep over me.  I made the slight detour from the edge to the indistinct top of Margery Hill, the sky was now darker and the atmosphere felt suddenly bleak as I struggled into my wind proof at the summit before snapping the trig point and surrounding rocks.

Margery Hill, felt as desolate as it looks here.

I was glad to begin a descent that I thought would bring me shelter, though I was some way down before there was any noticeable decrease in the wind.  As I neared Slippery Stones the sun reappeared and I started to warm up again.

Almost down to Slippery Stones and the Derwent valley.  Fast and deep fords.

The fords at the northern end of Howden Reservoir mark the junction of the moorland and the more municipal round the reservoir paths and there were as many people here as I had seen all day.  I had seen no one along Howden Edge and, once I set off north for the path following the Derwent, was to see no one again for a good while.

The path was mostly in sunshine while the valley side to my left was in shadow.  This fortuitous chiaroscuro kept me warm enough and the views charming and gentle, a pleasant contrast to the open views on the tops.

The minor path on Ronksley Moor, following Lower Small Clough, was just visible from the Derwent path.  Getting to the path involved another difficult crossing.  I opted for knee deep immersion rather than risk a slip and complete soaking trying to use slimy submerged stepping stones.

Following the Derwent from Slippery Stones to Lower Small Clough.

The end of  Lower Small Clough marked the halfway point of my route, a circumstance that I celebrated with coke, bun and flapjack.  It had taken longer than expected to get here and I decided that it would be best to follow the more common path back to Crook Hill from Alport Castles (missing out Win Hill) to avoid getting caught in the dark later (though I did have my head torch).

Shooting cabin.

The way ahead became obvious once more as I headed into a huge cutting.  I made sure that I did not stray into an old drain running at right angles to my path.  It was sort of fun running in a channel whose sides were higher than my head, again the lighting added to the atmosphere.

Giant drainage ditch between the end of Lower Small Clough and the track down to Ridge Upper Moor.

My map did not extend far enough to identify the view in the photo above (looking back along the cutting).  Subsequent research suggests that the group of rocks on the far horizon is Horse Stone.

The descent, on a well made track, to Ridge Upper Moor was steep and fast.  For the most part terrain was predictable enough for this descent to be enjoyed without complaint from battered toes.

Ridge Upper Moor looking green and welcoming.

In the woods I looked for and found the ford across the River Westend.  Like many 'fords' today this one could not really be distinguished from 'river' in general except that a path stopped and started on either side of it.  The Westend was wide and moving fast, not so fast that I feared being carried away, but fast enough to make staying upright a challenge.  I had not run more than a hundred meters along the other side when I saw a perfectly solid bridge.  That isn't shown on the map!

I continued along the track and somehow managed to miss a path on my right.  Fortunately this became obvious as the track met a road within a few hundred meters and I retraced my steps.  The path was actually signposted to Alport Castles, I'll blame low blood sugar.

It's a fair old slog up to the Castles with the best views behind you, here I met the first people since Slippery Stones.  If I had known what I was in for, the journey up would have been easier as the 'castles' are truly fantastic.  Once again the hard winter sun lit the scene magnificently.  One is left with the impression that a chunk of Petra was transported to the Peak District where it acquired a thin covering of rough grass over the centuries.

The incredible Alport Castles, the Tower.

Alport Castles edge, Little Moor and Rowlee Pasture.

The path across Rowlee Pasture gave great views to the south west and seeing Win Hill made the idea of including it look tempting again.  I had started to make a little time and calculated that I could make it.  I would be able to descend in half light and it would not get truly dark until after Yorkshire Bridge.  I had a contingency plan for this last mile or so which was to retrace my outward route, rather than face the uncertain paths through the woods on the other side of the A57 in the dark.

I took the right of way skirting woods down to Hagg Farm and beyond, crossed the road and ran into woods, crossed the Ashop via the luxury of a good bridge then started the steep climb up through trees to Hope Cross.

Last big climb, Win Hill, a bit more than half the ascent to go.

So began the climb along the 'beasts back' of Hope Brink.  The summit seemed a long way off, but I covered the four kilometres fairly steadily.  I could not resist looking back to see Lose Hill and Great Ridge in the sun's late glow.  At this point I realised I would be in shadow while I made my descent.  There have been several occasions on recent runs when I have realised the importance, or even just relevance for photographic purposes, of taking the angle and direction of light into account when planning a route.

Great Ridge and Kinder Skyline in the distance, from Win Hill.

Win Hill summit, time to get a move on, not much light left.

The light did not prove to be a problem as I began my descent. This was fortunate as the bridleway down was difficult underfoot.  As I stopped to photograph an attractive lichenous sign post that said 'chipotle and chilli bean wraps' (spelt Yorkshire Bridge), I was passed by another runner taking the same path.  I gave chase just for the fun of it and was soon whizzing down a slightly slippery woodland path.  This path was a sheer joy after the earlier stony steps and in my enthusiasm I forgot to keep a check on my direction.  Frequent deviations to avoid fallen trees and many linked paths soon had me disorientated.  I sort of realised, but was having too much fun to care.  As long as I was heading down I couldn't go too far wrong.  The path then began to level which meant I was headed the wrong way.  I decided that I would retrace my steps if a way to my right did not present itself soon.  It was not long before I did see a way down to the edge of Ladybower, I was quite a long way north of the dam when I got down.

I followed the path along the water's edge to the dam, artificial lights were starting to twinkle in the last of the natural light.  There was just enough light to allow photographs of the overworked over flows (with elbows braced on the parapet).  Stunning.

A hole in the Peak District space time continuum

I did not put my torch on as I started up the path back to Cutthroat Bridge, I wanted to be sure that I knew where I was relative to the road so as not to miss the car park.  A printing error meant that I did not have a map of the final few hundred metres, I did not want to rejoin the road knowing not whether to go up or down.  In the dark progress was slow and I started to think that I had missed the turning.  I saw a fence leading down towards the road and decided to follow it.  Part way down I saw a bridge ahead and to my left and realised that I had anticipated the path by about ten metres!

I put on my head torch before crossing and following the road back to the car, my those wraps tasted good.

I mapped the route using few nodes which would cause an underestimation of the distance, with that and semi intentional and unintentional deviations I think I ran closer to 27.5 than 25.5 miles.  All in all a cracking run not far short of category A, but feels a lot less.  The research I am putting into routes these days is really paying off.  I am particularly grateful to mountainboxer for his description of the original route (to which I added Win Hill and changed the start to suit my training needs).

My venerable C-lites were in such poor condition when I started this run that I actually took a spare pair of shoes with me for safety, the old ones just made it all the way.  I think they had a fitting last run, perhaps I should have thrown them into the sink holes for a grand exit.  It turned out to be the final run for a trusty pair of gloves too, when I drove off forgetting that I had wedged them between roofbars and roof while I got the wraps out.

Map of my intended route.  I ran a slightly different (longer) descent to the dam and retraced my outward route from there back to Cutthroat Bridge.