Peak District, Derbyshire. 19-22 August 1992
Flatulence and
eructation were well to the fore when we set off on the main walk. Twenty one
assorted members gradually strung themselves out from Birchenclough, waved off
by co-ordinator PLG and led (from the rear) by Commissioner JWG, heading for
Mill Hill. I didn't know what they did after that, as I was going flat out to
take my mother's pension (poor old duck) to her and get back to Edale for the
lunchtime rendezvous. Please will nobody let on to John, as I'm hoping he won't
notice the extra mileage on the clock.
Having arrived back at
Edale, I walked twice up the (entirely wrong!) path to see if I could see them
coming down. Saw several people, but none of ours, so decided to sit it out in
the pub where I got some very funny looks when I ordered only a shandy.
Lunch stop over, the
mob re-started, heading for Mam Tor (517m) — the Tigers gobbled it up,
the rabbits said 'Not on your nelly, or words to that effect' and took the
low-level route. Actually, most turned out Tigers — 'On the command
'Three' turn right' and 90% of them did. Onward and more or less upward took
them to Hollins Cross and Lose Hill before they dropped down to the Naafi
waggon at Townhead Bridge, where PLG had been hanging around for so long she
was getting even more funny looks from the other users of the path — a
valid point: other leaders may do their recces in spasms, as we did, over
period of days, and underestimate the time taken in total. The back-up team
really had, in this instance, time to go home, bathe, change and cook tea
before getting back to the water stop, though I doubt if JWG would have
appreciated even more mileage on the gharri.
He took over the car
at this point and waved off the mob trekking up to Guide Post and Alport Bridge
with PLG (no nitwit) shepherding them along the easy (?) bit back to
Birchenclough, and also leading stoutly from the rear. Brian and I were
grateful to whoever left the arrow in the pines just before Birchenclough, as I
had only a hazy recollection of the route from the recce, and we might still be
there. Think of the gossip! Were we glad to see the cars in the lay-by?
John mentioned later
that one of the party had reported that a sheep appeared to be unwell. He went
to investigate, only to find that Axeman had been to the loo there. Abrupt
reversal of JWG and abandonment of sheep.
Day Two was a gentle
stroll up the Nab and over to Rowarth for lunch. This was when the fun really
started. Polygon hadn't done this bit either and hadn't a clue where to go.
Directions like 'Head for Charlesworth and turn left four times' didn't really
have much relevance, although Daphne's mum saw a great deal more of the
Derbyshire countryside than she might otherwise have done. She was very patient
as I flagged down motorists and dashed into shops to try and find the road. It
is miniscule and looks like somebody's drive. However, with immaculate timing,
we arrived at Rowarth at precisely the same time as the walkers, and partook of
a leisurely lunch. John retrieved his car with relief that it had no dents, and
that he didn't have to walk any further, while Polly joined the surging mob to
the Grouse and over the moors via the trig pillar and Wormstones.
Getting Verena and
myself over a couple of the drystone walls and barbed wire on the way was
interesting, to say the least, and if anyone has a photo I would like one. I've
been legged up onto horses umpteen times, but dry stone walls never. Thanks,
Huw.
Here we developed
another splinter group who opted to go via the lodge, while we went
over/under/round Wormstones by a trackless waste with a bottomless abyss on our
right. A democratic decision to do our own thing prevailed — there are
now five, at least new paths through the heather and bilberries up there
— and after another encounter with yet another drystone wall (and barbed
wire) all this, incidentally on public rights of way, it was a back to the
hotel, though I suspect I was not the only one suffering a bit from dead leg
roll. Then an easy ramble through the outskirts of Glossop to see Uncle George
waiting for us.
The AGM and closing
dinner went as might be expected, and gradually the mob dispersed; there were
even tears.
It was so lovely to
see so many friends and to meet so many new friends. We've had our small
problems, but have enjoyed every minute ... speak for yourself, says
Commissioner Green. Pauline "Polygon" Green
Additional notes:
The 21 persons
attending the meet produced a very good mix of stalwarts who have attended
every meet, persons making their second or third appearance and new members
showing up for the first time. It was also a good cross section of ageing
lunatics who don't know when to give up and some of their youngsters who have
caught the disease.
John's routes for the
two days took us very thoroughly over a wide cross section of the Peak
District. The Mad Axeman had hitherto dismissed the area as a penny side show
that could be tucked into a corner of the Yorkshire Dales and lost. He now
evaluates it as a very impressive piece of Pennine scenery in its own right.
Kinder Downfall is particularly impressive, the stream through Kinder Gates and
across the extensive peat-covered summit were fascinating. The Mam Tor to Lose
Hill Pike ridge is a gem. And swinging along the old Roman road towards the end
of the day provided an exhilaration that made one completely forget one's
fatigue and blisters.
The hostelry at Edale
and the support from the Naafi wagon upheld Meths' highest traditions. As did
the pub at Rowarth on the second day. Pauline makes no mention of the Suswa wash ceremony on Glossop Station (even Daphne's mum
received a very minor one) nor the attempts to teach the parrot at Rowarth to
recite the club motto or belch. Perhaps it is because they have to continue
living in the area after the reunion broke up. All in all a splendid reunion
with plenty of good fellowship. It bodes well for the future.
Co-ordinator: Pauline "Polygon" Green
Participants: 21 (20 walkers)
National Park Website:
www.peakdistrict.org
©
WDYFO, 1992