Day 43: Edale to Torside (18 miles)

The Newfold Farm campsite is superb with a new block of hotel standard (in my view of course from wild camping) and a real bonus that it being a Friday the cafe was open until 8pm so I was able to sit in there to sort notes etc. The downside was that I was cold during the night and the Alpkit bivy bag hadn’t got delivered on time. My left knee and glute were protesting and it was only at 4 am that I thought to let some air out so the mattress was softer. That was a big improvement.

It’s become a real love hate relationship with my tent I’m afraid. So, with Martin close by at his mother’s I’ve decided to take advantage of going back to creature comforts while Martin is in striking distance, which also means I won’t have to carry the full weight of the backpack for awhile. I hope nobody is disappointed that I’m forgoing soft for a while. Think of it as the equivalent of a raft day… 1st of June feels a long way off for a break from walking everyday!

I woke at 4:45 to the dawn chorus and to my utter delight the sound of a cuckoo calling. I got up but when it was clear the day was still to wake fully so decided to hunker back in my sleeping bag for a bit longer. 6:30 and so was itching to get up and before 8 I was off heading up to Grindsbrook.

How can you have tears of both happiness and sadness at the same time. I don’t know.  But that’s what happened as I emerged out of the woods to the bottom of Grindsbrook where I had played with my brothers as a child and with my own children (I’m sure Georgie was wearing her pink princess dress) and then with Jess and Maria as young adults with two of their dogs, Alfie and Joey; the latter as a young dog who didn’t realise the consequence of diving into the water - much to our hilarity.

Those two dogs also did a Kinder circuit with me whilst the others visited one of the Castleton caves - the last time I had ventured onto the plateau on a hot summer’s day. A cuckoo was calling as I wandered up the Grindsbrook valley - replaced as I ventured further up by the bubbling call of a call, one of my mother’s favourite birds apart from the skylark.

The walk up the valley was a delight and I took plenty of photos - arrested by the sight of a couple who had walked up from the Edale glamping, who were undressing to skinny dip in one of the waterfalls. Good on them. The sound of their squeals and laughter made me delighted that others enjoy this superb valley in their own way and create magical memories.

Buoyed by this feeling I continued up the steep and challenging ascent of Grindsbrook and was thrilled to come to the top at 9:30 savouring the view - this is the country I  love so much.

Walking around the plateau is not a walk in the park. It’s undulating and rough under foot but meanwhile wonderful. However, it always takes me longer than I think. I joined the current official Pennine Way at 10:40 at Edale rocks, continuing on up to the trig point where I took a coffee break.

I arrived at Kinder Downfall - something of a family legend as whenever my father has taken us up it’s been dry. As it was today. But I have seen it when the wind was blowing so hard it would be better named the Kinder Upfall.

I was tiring now, and my glute was bring something of a pain which I did my best to ignore. Sure enough after a couple of ibuprofen and a 2nd break at 12:10 above kinder reservoir on Sandy Heys, the discomfort eased and then vanished allowing me to start increasing my pace and feeling comfortable.

I regretfully dropped down off the plateau at 12:40 to the sound and sight of a curlew calling, knowing that the millstone pavement to the Snake Pass can seem tortuously obstreperous in how it approaches (or doesn’t!) the Snake Pass.  I had a “proper” lunch at 13:25 where Martin and I had stopped in August 2020 going in the reverse direction. 

This was when I knew I had to mentally prepare that the next section would be longer than what one might expect for bring a generous half way along. The path for much of the way has been upgraded for those looking for the aircraft crash scene, and I was pleased that this time I was able to follow the path for the Pennine Way for longer than before. It’s still bizarre that the stone pavement goes to nothing, but I enjoyed the navigation challenge although this wasn’t really an issue as visibility was good and it was easy to lock onto the Wain Rocks and eventually the Bleaklow cairn itself.

I arrived there at 15:35 and from there kept an eye out for Martin in case he’d come up on a different path. Again the going was rocky underfoot but the scenery as the valley (Clough opens and deepens is stunning and an experience I had very much wanted without the fog Martin and I had had in August 2020.

About a third of the way down I was delighted to meet up with Martin. He told me he thought there was a mountain rescue underway and indeed that was the case. What must have been 15 volunteers were out aiding a young man who had fallen while scrambling on some rocks down in the valley. The rescue would involve using ropes and a sledge to pull him out of the raving and up to where a helicopter came to take him to hospital. A really impressive operation and something we felt a privilege to witness. Such an accident could happen so easily to any of us - a twisted ankle on the rough ground could easily have the same consequence.

I am always wary going down a steep slope because of my knees, but with them strapped up with KT tape and taking it steady, what I think is probably the most challenging descent on the Pennine Way (unless my memory fails me) was soon over and we walked along the disused railway to the car, and headed back to base at Martin’s Mum’s for the night. A bath, good cooking and a comfortable bed... bliss.