Two men go for a big walk up four big hills- Part Two.

The second of a four part story about a very long walk up the four highest hills in Peakland in day, from Hunter's Bar and back. So then, onward we go dear readers...

1:10am. Pulling on our heavy rucksacks, clipping the hip-belts, a closing of the door, a turning of the key. The first step onto the pavement. Finally, we were off.

Down past Hunter's Bar, around Endcliffe Park and towards the outskirts. Conversation was little- the weight of the day ahead was heavy on the mind and we were barely awake. Passing by taxis pub and party bound felt seriously strange- most weekends that is me in that taxi, yet here I was doing the opposite. Very quickly a strong feeling of complete detachment from society set in as we walked the rainy streets- cooking, socialising, shopping, sleeping- none of these normal things were relevant now, the only thing in our lives now was walking. And at this moment- walking to Ringinglow. This feeling would persist for the duration of the walk, a beautiful sensation which once tasted becomes a big lure of long-distance walking. It is like meditation, a blissful feeling of freedom and lack of worry as your world is reduced to you, a destination and getting there- nothing else in life matters.

Passing round Endcliffe Park we elected to stick to roads as much as possible to Forge Dam instead of going through the parks- I spent far too much time watching Crimewatch as a kid to do that. Numbness set in, the scale of what we were doing was a just too big to take in. Instead, our minds collectively became focused solely on getting to Fulwood Lane. So on through the drizzle we went until the lane was reached in a sleepy daze. We were out of the city at last- phew! Hardly any emotion flickered on the mind- a brief 'bye bye' to Sheffield and then onward towards Ringinglow Bog.

The crossing to Redmires was memorable, if for the wrong reasons. The drizzle turned into a heavy downpour on Fulwood Lane dampening the spirits- thoughts (and heads) turned back on Sheffield to friends all cosy and dry in the pub. It quickly it stopped, but only for my headtorch to stop working soon after. Bugger. We were barely awake, could hardly see, the track didn't really exist and all we wanted to do was walk to Bleaklow. And that folks, is how two lads end up aimlessly stumbling across Ringinglow Bog at 2:30am on a damp saturday night.

My dying headtorch- useless except for posing for photos like this...

Miraculously we made it to Redmires without getting lost or falling alseep in a bog. Morale lifted as Stanage was crossed non stop to Crow Chin (bar pausing for a photo at Stanage Pole), eerily silent at 3:30am- somehow we made swift progress despite only Dobbo having a headtorch of any use. From Crow Chin to the track on Hordron Edge we had a short section of pathless boggy moorland to cross, made more interesting in that neither of us had been on it. I was in my element- roughly estimating the angle to head off Stanage, noting vegetation and steepness of the slope, the track on Hordron Edge was reached smoothly and without a map or compass. Super happy!

The first stop of the day by the A57

The whole section from the A57 to Lockerbrook was amazing. Views of Win Hill Pike with Ladybower streaked with moonlight, that first rest of the day after 11.75 miles by a deserted A57, seeing first hints of dawn- they were fantastic. We walked in silence by Ladybower in that pre-sunrise light to the sound of waking birds, enjoying a real feeling of calm and peace. We'd just walked through the night to get here, and were now stuck into the walk proper- the next 27 miles and four hills would be the real meat of the day. The moment was perfect. Those 20 minutes by Ladybower under that first dawning light, collecting my thoughts in an aura of tranquility and calm- it is a memory that will remain with me forever.

After a knackering slog up to Lockerbrook, discussions on slowing the pace and resting more were had. We'd somehow raced non-stop to Ladybower, and though pleasantly surprised and in a good position time wise for the day ahead, we needed to slow it down a bit. So we did. Ish.

Different experiences were had on the long boggy walk over Rowlee Pasture, Westend Moor and Westend Knoll to Grains-in-the-Water. Dobbo got quite affected by the lack of sleep and found it quite hard to stay awake and push on- but nothing known to nature can stop Dobbo, so on he went. I experienced something different. Waves of euphoria washed over me- pushing on over the moors and watching sunrise over Back Tor with no-one around, all whilst headed for my favorite place in the world- this was what I wanted, this was exactly what I wanted the walk to be! Those 10 minutes over Rowlee Pasture I so felt alive, awake and energized. I was experiencing perfection.

Dawn.

'Breakfast' at Birchin Hat 

After a much-needed breakfast stop at Birchin Hat consisting of flapjack, pasta and harribo, we pushed on towards Bleaklow and Higher Shelf Stones now visible floating on the horizon. Our minds focused on getting to the summit of Bleaklow- the next major stage in the walk- and we could feel it drawing us in. Both of us uplifted by the first sight of two of the fells we were out to climb. Two mates, two different states of mind, weaving our way over the vast bogs of Westend Moor, arriving at Grains-in-the-Water as a pair of tired and relieved messes.

Bleaklow bound- more moor!

Relieved? Damn right! At last, after 7 hours of walking the first of the four fells was within reach. The going had been tough from Birchin Hat over those wild, enchanting southern moors guarding Bleaklow and we were starting to feel tired. This was soon explained by the realisation that we'd walked the first 20 miles in 7 hours. Ah. Thats why. Right then- 30 mins rest and feeding was called for to celebrate this unexpected achievement. More cold pasta, harribo and water gladly went down the hatch as we sprawled on the grass. Grains-in-the-Water looked magnificent- foreboding and desolate under a snow-laden grey ceiling close enough to touch. I was happy to be cold and shivering in exchange for the privilege of being in such a place.

We were now both feeling strong, we were doing well so far, and Bleaklow's summit was just a short hop away.

It was time to get a fell climbed at last.

Two men go for a big walk up four big hills. Part One.

This is the first of a two part story about a long walk in the hills. Initially intended to be just one post, I've split it to break it up as it is quite lengthy. The next part will be up sometime before sunday all being well.

At 1:10am on Saturday 22nd of March 2014, my good mate Dobbo and I walked out of my front door, crossed Hunters Bar and set off to climb the 4 600m high hills of Peakland. 20 hours 45 mins later we would arrive back home (well, at the Lescar just round the corner) having walked 48 miles and ascended around 8000ft.

Firstly though- why do such a thing?
Simple. Because the furthest we'd ever walked in a day was someone else's idea.
Two years previously we did the famous Derwent Watershed walk, a dream of ours since we began wandering the hills as young teenagers. At 42 miles it was the toughest day out we'd ever had, and by the end I was at the end of my mental and physical limit. A painful, shattered and happy mess staggered back to the car that night. Dobbo was seemingly invincible. Yet despite vowing never to do anything like it again, a few weeks later we were left with an empty, hollow feeling inside. Somehow it just didn't feel that special, our biggest achievement was something hundreds of people have done.

So a few weeks looking at maps mooting various ideas followed, but nothing we came up with inspired or had the flow required. And then it hit us- why not climb the 3 highest hills in Peakland (the 2000ft high ones) in a day? It seemed such an obvious, simple and beautiful idea- we had to do it. Here we had a walk that would be at least 47 miles in length, plenty of ascent, a good chunk over rough trackless ground- and most importantly- it was our idea.

Now, for long distance walking (18 miles+) there are a few rules. Firstly- it should never be about the distance. Ego and fitness is a crap reason to spend 8 hours plodding up a hill- you might as well just plod round the city for that instead. Initially we considered trying to make the route 52 miles (simply because it's a double marathon) and told a lot of friends about our plans. Yet after more careful looking at the map, we realised that doing this would mean unnecessary deviations and extensions, thus spoiling that all important flow. So, sticking to the most logical line and adding Grindslow Knoll into the equation we had a route. 48 miles and the 4 600m high hills of Peakland in a day and back from my front door. It would still be further than the DW- our idea was wonderfully simple and we loved it.

Secondly- the route should have a good flow to it. This is important. By this, I mean it should take a logical line to give smooth steady progress with no switchbacks, detours ect. Refer back to the first rule and you'll see how the two relate and determined our eventual route. Slow, logical, smooth progress = a happy mind = a happy day out.

Thirdly-a healthy amount of ascent and walking over rough ground is essential. This is fellwalking, not a walk through town and it should be strenuous! 20 miles on good paths with easy gradients can make great walking (the Eastern Edges walk for example), but its not the stuff epic hard days are made out of. Fortunately a good half of the walk was over rough bog and moorland either without paths or on useless boggy trods at best, with a few sharp ascents along the way. With some nice easy sections at just the right place and a bit of new ground to cover as well, the route seemed perfect.

With everything in place (sort of), it we began to get obsessed by it. But along the way...

...Training? Not for me. Now, whilst I honestly admire the determination of folk who can get up and go to the gym or go jogging around parks every sunrise and sunset and eat a stringently healthy diet- it just isn't my cup of tea. I like my food and drink and doing things I find fun. 'Training' isn't one of them. Fair enough, I'm quite restless and active and have been wandering the hills quite a lot over the last 11 years but still, 48 miles is still a tad daunting distance to walk. My idea of training consisted of messing about on hills and going dancing lots. In all honesty though, I was quite worried about my feet hurting and how tired I'd be right until we did it. But I wanted it badly. Very badly. That was what mattered.

And so, sometime around May 2012 the build up began. Yet it took nearly two years to get round to it. Let me explain. The whole mental/ fitness weight of it certainly slowed us down, and during that time Dobbo and I both found ourselves with various commitments, free time clashing with one another. On and on it went. Constant proud announcement to friends, yet still no walk. To all of you who put up with it, I apologise. It constantly burnt in the mind- we must, we have to, we need it done. Then around a month ago circumstances in my personal life changed and suddenly I needed to stop procrastinating so much and get things done. This walk had become one of those endless procrastinations that had never got done. Now was the time to do it. Even if I wasn't strong enough, mentally it felt right. At last, things fell into place. Dobbo could commit and was psyched. A date was set. At last- it was on.

The two weeks up to it were fun, the whole build up being very exiting- remember your were a kid and how exiting that week before going on holiday felt? It felt a bit like that, constantly rabbiting on to anyone who would listen. My bosses at Foothills- the shop where I work- were great, allowing me to leave early on the friday, giving me free walking poles and insoles and took an interest in it. You couldn't get better people to work for. Measuring each little stage of the walk. Cleaning gear. Planning the diet (sugar and carbs). Carb loading three days before (1kg of pasta- yum!). Trying to sort the head out as we were expecting an epic. Hoping the weather wouldn't be a crap as forecast. Going to bed at half 7 and getting 4.5 hours kip. Waking up at midnight. An hour later, at long, long last.

It was finally on.

Grindslow Knoll. A guide to the hills of Peakland. Part 1 of 197 (hopefully).

Grindslow Knoll- 601m/ 1972ft.

Prominence: 21m. Grid Ref: SK1006.

Rocky Mound above the Devil's Ravine.

Peakland's 4th highest hill- Grindslow Knoll.

Overview.

As you curve round into the Edale Valley and pass between the shadowy Great Ridge and the sunlit moorland wall of Kinder, a sharp peak appears in view, unlike any other hill in Peakland. Shooting into the sky off a steep broad moorland base Grindslow Knoll immediately captures the attention. No other hill manages to combine its shapely beauty, imposing bulk and great height so perfectly. Here lies a hill which must be ascended.

Peakland's 4^th highest fell, though technically a narrow ridge rising off a broad spur of Kinder Scout, expresses enough individuality to be a worthy hill in its own right. Indeed, it's prominence above its surroundings is surpassed only by Kinder and Bleaklow, yet the steepness of its slopes and perfect conical summit give it a more mountainous feel than both of them. It many only just miss out on the 2000ft contour, yet Grindslow Knoll a great fell, one which can proudly hold its head high amongst much more famous summits.

It is a crying shame then, that so fine a hill with so many fine features is so under-appreciated by the majority of walkers. So often used as a convenient route to or from Kinder Scout from Edale, few people seem to take the time to stop and take in the summit- indeed, there lies a well worn path which traversed just below the summit. Yes, it rises only 30ft or so above the broad spur attaching it to Kinder- which it is a part off-, but nothing on Kinder is a good as this. Kinder Scout is loved and justifiably famous, Grindslow Knoll is seen simply as a stop gap to or from greater things. Those more discerning of us however will stop and sit for a while, taking in the summit of arguably one of the very finest hills in the Peak District.

Location.

Spread across Kinder's 7 mile long southern escarpment, five broad grassy spurs descend steeply down into the wide green rectangle of the Vale of Edale. Off the bulkiest and highest of these, between Grindsbrook and Crowden Cloughs directly above Edale, rises Grindslow Knoll.

Running NW/ SE from the head of Grindsbrook, the spur rises sharply into the summit ridge before broadening quickly into a large flat boggy plateau. Steep grassy slopes wrinkled by a few shallow cloughs plunge down into the Edale Valley to the S, N and E, with farmland on the lowest slopes.

Topographically the hamlets of Upper Booth and Barber Booth lie on the lower slopes of Grindslow Knoll, as does the village of Edale, where grassy farmland fans out under the open slopes of the fell above. The view of the pointed summit soaring above the church in Edale is a classic. 

Though closely associated with Grindsbrook Clough, it claims only three streams to itself. All three are unnamed and being very steep and grassy, lacking in much interest aside from solitude and unusual views.

Fox Holes Crag

Mostly unseen from the path to Kinder, Grindslow Knoll's most extensive crag remains a peaceful and damp place left well alone walkers and climbers alike. Well worth seeking out is a little spur poking out of the fellside and a fine slender pinncale to the NW. Both easily visited, the scene from both is breathtaking.

 Grindslow Tarns.

Grindslow Tarns.

Though not 'tarns' by geographical definition and relatively small- even by Pennine standards, these two moorland pools rank second in size to the one found at Alport Castles. Most likely formed by peat cutting in times gone by, they are a rare treat in Peakland- true upland bodies of water. Too shallow to provide only a novelty paddle in summer, they nonetheless form a peaceful and pretty foreground for pictures of Grindslow Knoll's summit ridge and Kinder's higher plateau beyond.

Scrambling.

For the discerning scrambler Grindslow Knoll offers some very fine, esoteric scrambling. Short and often grassy, their merits are the solitude and grandeur found in few other places.

The Fox Holes Spur- SE Gully. Mod/ Diff. One of the best easy solos in Peakland. Little known, exposed and great juggy climbing.

Fox Holes Pinnacle- NW Side. Ungradeable. An exposed and committing scramble on damp rock and loose grass.

Fox Holes Crag and Mushroom Stone Gully.

Fox Holes Choss Gully. Grade 3. Tucked further along the crag from The Pinnacle, the easiest of two gullies. 15m long and committing, a very serious 'mixed' scramble involving a mantleshelf onto crumbling grass above an 8m drop.

Mushroom Stone Snow Gullies- I/II. After a good freeze-thaw or prolonged period of windblown snow from the N, a couple of long snow gullies form between Fox Holes Crag and the Mushroom Stone. Easily identified, these streaks form during a good cold spell and make for a fine little climb out of Grindsbrook. Towards the end of a hard winter they are the most reliable place in Peakland to practice basic winter skills.

Broadlee Bank Tor- various lines. Grade 1 (just). Cris-crossing the face can yield a pleasant easy scramble on grass/ shale.

Broadlee Bank Tor (winter)- 1. Unfortunately south facing and at low altitude means good snow conditions must rarely form. In exceptional winters fun grade 1's exist and make a fun stop on the way to Crowden Clough.

Routes of ascent.

From Edale (Nag's Head)- via the peat track

Length: Ascent:

A well used and simple ascent with one of the biggest height gains in Peakland. The walking is quite tedious, though the views are good. The path has historical interest, in days gone by being used by villagers bringing cut peat down to Edale for fuel. Possibly the fastest route to Kinder's summit from Edale. A very fine descent at the end of the day.

Turn L at the Nag's Head and follow the Pennine Way along a small wooded stream. When it opens into fields, leave the PW and head uphill towards the top R corner of the field. Go through a gate onto open land, follow the clear and badly eroded path steeply until the summit is reached.

From Edale (Nag's Head)- via Grindsbrook Clough

The finest hill view in Peakland? From Grindsbrook Ravine.

Length: Ascent:

The most popular route onto Kinder's plateau can be used as a grand way onto Grindslow Knoll, providing a short outing ideal for inclement weather or when time is tight. It is beautiful, rugged and interesting every step of the way.

Head N along the track behind the Nag's Head, following the sign R, down some steps and across a bridge over Grinds Brook. A clear flagged path leads through a field and through some woods into the open clough beyond. Follow the well defined path up Grindsbrook, weaving around boulders and cris-crossing the stream as you go. After a steepening at the top resembling a rocky gully, turn L and take the obvious path along the edge to Grindslow Knoll.

From Edale (Nag's Head)- via Broadlee Bank Tor.

Length: Ascent:

A scenic walk split into four distinct stages.

Broadlee Bank Tor

From the Nag's Head turn L and follow the signs for the Pennine Way. It will take you along a wooded stream and through several fields on a clear- sometimes flagged path. At Broadlee Bank Tor, leave the Pennine Way and head through a gate under the crag by a wall. Follow this feint path L around the hillside to some woods. Take the clear zig-zagging path up a shallow valley and onto the open plateau above. An easy path leads over the plateau towards the base of the summit ridge, which leads easily to the summit,

Via Grindslow Clough

From Barber Booth: Length: Ascent:

From Edale (Nag's Head): Length: Ascent:

An unnamed clough descends steeply into the mid-reaches of Crowden Clough. Pathless walking on steep grass make for a strenuous route. The least pleasant or conveniant way up or down Grindslow Knoll, it's merits are selcusion, a new perspective on Crowden Clough and getting off the beaten track.

Upon entering the open land in Crowden Clough, follow the clear path until a distinct clough joins on the R (E) side. Follow this up very steep rough slopes, initially through bracken, then grass. The easiest way is to follow the R-hand side just above the stream. Where the gradient eases into a shallow basin, head easily NE over more trackless ground to the summit.

The summit and views

Despite being so closely attached to Kinder Scout, Grindslow Knoll is sufficiently high enough to feel independent of the vast bulky moorland mass so close by. Two ridges- the SW and E meet at a small point perched 200m above Grindsbrook below. Eroded peat and grassy banks form the final plinth for a sizable cairn- the highest point is in no doubt. Given its height above the surroundings, dramatic views on all sides, an undeniable feeling space and elevation combined with the neat final peak, this must be regarded as one of the finest summits in all of Peakland.

As a viewpoint it is of great merit- nothing to the south is higher, giving vast wide-ranging ariel views over every inch of Peakland to the south. Beyond the tops of Mam Tor and Lord's Seat lies the Highlow Hills, Bradwell Moor with Longstone Moor, Chelmorton Low and the rolling limestone plateau stretching to the distant Weaver Hills in the south. To the west Shining Tor and the Western Moorlands form a long hilly ridge, with The Roaches, Coombes Moss and Morridge all in view.

South Eastwards the slopes plunge down to the Vale of Edale, with Lose Hill and Win Hill Pike seemingly lowley from this lofty vantange. Beyond, the bumpy crest of the Eastern Edges follows the curve of Derwent Dale past Grindleford to Matlock and beyond, with the distant peak of Masson Hill marking the SE limit to Peakland.

In the arc from W to NE, the southern flank of Kinder forms a grand wall, its bulk and height seen better than from anywhere else, broad plunging grassy slopes 6 miles long make an unforgettable scene. Although Kinder blocks out distant views to the N apart from Howden Edge seen poking above Nether Tor, the view is sufficiently dramatic and interesting to feel two-sided (unlike Lose Hill). Rank this amongst the best, it is one that will never get tiring.

Westwards from Grindslow Knoll.

Most hills in Peakland to the south are in view, though due to distance and the rolling nature binoculars or a degree of familiarity are required to pick them out. Significantly from E-W: Back Tor, Stanage Edge, Over Owler Tor, Harland Edge, Masson Hill, Sir William Hill, Longstone Moor, Minninglow, Wolfscote Hill, Chrome Hill, The Walk, Morridge, Axe Edge, Shining Tor, Chinley Churn.

Links to other hills.

Grindslow Knoll is nearly always ascended either on the way to or from Kinder Scout, from which it is a satellite off. As mentioned previously though, interesting cross-country routes from Hope or Castleton can be done taking in Lose Hill or Mam Tor along the way.

To Kinder Scout- head of Grindsbrook.

A. Length: Ascent: Time:

This ranks high amongst the most spectacular and grand walks in Peakland, crossing the southern rim of Grindsbrook.

From the summit, simply drop down the widely eroded path and follow the edge NW past a large cairn, to the head of Grindsbrook.

To Kinder Scout- Grindsbrook- Crowden Clough Path

B. Length: Descent:

A quieter but less impressive alternative, taking in the center of the spur. Broad moorland walking, better done in reverse from Kinder from where Grindslow Knoll appears as a fine peak.

Descend the summit ridge, turn NW onto a flagged path which leads easily over rough moorland, meeting the Grindsbrook- Crowden Clough path.

A musing.

At the time of writing I have notched up 80 ascents of Grindslow Knoll and 70 of Kinder (and over 100 onto it's plateau). Nearly all of these 80 have been two or from Kinder Scout, heading to or from great adventures on the boogy roof of Peakland. Yet, I have always allowed 20 minutes or more to stop on Grindslow Knoll's summit before the descent, to stand and take everything in.

  So many times after fleeing the city for a day up high, I stand and gaze at the world below my feet, feeling detached from it all. You don't need to be over 4000ft in the middle of the Cairngorms to feel this, just 15 miles away and 500m above Sheffield can do the trick. Reluctance to leave sets in, up here I am free and belong, down there the pull of life- and life is pretty damn fun- tries to drag me back. Two worlds. Two lives. So many times I've resisted the temptation to turn my back and head towards     Kinder's beckoning plateau beyond. There is something unique about this plinth, this little piece of heaven in the sky that lures me back time and time again.

  Sweaty summer days slogging desperately to get up out of the heat, collapsing on the grass a nauseous mess for 5 minutes before happily continuing into summery hazy Pennine heaven. Emotive winter descents in the dark, the lights below scattered into the distance, my crampons scratching the topmost rocks of the cairn. Great things were done on those days- to me anyway. Special places, magical spots. 

Above the clouds at sunset- happy times!