There's an oak tree on a traffic island at the road terminus. A stone plaque says that George VI planted it there on the 25th of September, 1945. It commemorated the opening of the Ladybower Reservoir. I managed to find a photo of the great man at the actual ceremony. I don't think there was much 'planting' from his point of view since he was decked out in his Sunday best. One of his serfs seemed to be doing the actual planting bit. Given the oak is now at least 77 years old, I was kind of expecting it to be a bit bigger than it is today. Given that oaks can live for up to 1,000 years then this one's only a nipper really. I looks like (our) Queen's mother is cuddling a couple of squirrels around her shoulders. It's so nice to see the Royal Family's affinity with nature for a change, rather than shooting it.

 Linch Clough

I set off with my personal cloud of midges towards Linch  Clough. The woodland was alive with birdsong. A Cuckoo was making its distinctive call.  I'd heard on Springwatch that Cuckoo numbers are in decline, but this year I seem to have heard them on every walk I've done. Meadow Pippits kept me company as I climbed the track up the clough to the top of the moor. I was hoping I might reach a breeze further up that my disperse my newfound midge friends, but no such luck. I came across a sheep skull that had been stripped clean and bleached white by the sun.  I was envious to find that it had a set of teeth better than mine. It reminded me that I needed to attend my first post-covid dental appointment in a couple of weeks time. I shuddered at the horrors that will probably to be discovered.

 Every so often I would stop on the climb so that my midge entourage could have a rest. Looking back down the clough I could see the Howden Dam and also Win Hill in the far distance. The water in the reservoir looked very low.

My late Aunt 'M' had a distinct view on the content of nature programmes on TV. She said they were all about fighting, feasting or f*****g. I believe Sir Charles Darwin had a similar view about nature although he described it in less colourful terms. Further up the clough I came across two Tiger Beetles. They were either fighting or f*****g, but I'm guessing more likely the latter. They had a wonderful green metallic colour with vivid purple legs. They had a surprising turn of speed too, despite their mind being on other matters. They are predators and catch spiders, caterpillars and ants.

I considered the ethics of taking their photo in such an activity, but decided to take one in the interest of science. I then left them to give them some privacy.

As I got nearer to the end of Linch Clough, the other side of the valley got closer until the it terminated in diverging groughs.  I followed a path that took me up and beyond the groughs. There is a lot of heather on the moorland and it would have been hard going without the benefit of the rough path. It was flat and featureless on the top of moor and it was a few minutes before I got a glimpse of the  impressive rocky outcrop of Grinah Stones. I followed the path in their direction.

Grinah Stones

As I walked towards Grinah Stones, I was delighted to find a Red Kite soaring between me and my destination. I'd seen plenty of Buzzards in this area, but never a Red Kite. Even my personal midges buzzed in appreciation. The bird looked huge and it's easy to see how it gets its name when you see its shape and the beautiful colours on its wings and tail. It didn't seem particularly perturbed by my presence. At one point I thought it had some prey in its talons when it lifted one of its feet to its beak, but looking at my photos, I think it was probably just having a scratch. It made half a dozen loops around me and then soared off in the direction of Kinder Scout. 'Bloody marvellous', I said to myself. 'Buzz, buzz', responded my personal cloud of midges.

Nearer to Grinah Stone a couple of Common Lizards scuttled across the path. They were too fast for me to photo and they disappeared into the heather. They'd probably have given the Red Kite a tasty snack, although only a small one.

I stopped on Grinah Stones so that my midges could have a meal break. I was coming quite attached to them; even given some of them personal names.  It is possible to see for miles across the moors from Grinah, including the  Derwent Watershed,  Win Hill, Kinder Scout and Bleaklow. What a place.

Once my midges had had their blood fest, I set off to Bleaklow Stones.

Bleaklow Stones

There are some weirdly shaped stones in the Peak District. None more so than at Bleaklow Stones.  It is natural to anthropomorphise  your view of them, but some are so bizarre that even your imagination can't make any sense of it.

There's also some graffiti on some of the stones. I'm not really an advocate for graffiti but some of the inscriptions are so old, it does make you wonder about all those people who have been here before you. There's one engraving that suspiciously looks like the Freemason's square and compass. Their inscriptions are indeed old, but one day they'll be weathered away and lost forever.

On the way down to The Ridge, I could see in the far distance somebody else walking towards me. I'd not seen anybody all day and due to the limited vocabulary of my midges ('buzz'), I was feeling desperate for a conversation. As the person got nearer I cleared my throat in anticipation of a long conversation. I mentally went over some opening remarks, 'Lovely day isn't it?', ' Are you going far?' or 'Did you see the Red Kite earlier on?'. As he got nearer I could see it was a man and he'd got some binoculars around his neck. Great, I'd go for the 'Red Kite' opening. At the junction of our routes I stepped off the path for him and rested my forearms on my sticks, ready for a long conversation. 'Morning', he said, and then he was gone in a cloud of dust metaphorically, or actually a splatter of bog in reality. I raised my hand to his receding form but could only muster a 'Morning'.

Alport Moor And Castle

I was obviously disappointed with  the missed opportunity of conversation but then was almost immediately distracted by the call of a Golden Plover. They are a wonderful bird and their colours can only really be appreciated through binoculars or a long lens of a camera.

It is a long plod over Alport Moor to Alport Castles. Even the Meadow Pippits deserted me, although my midges remained faithful. Eventually the featureless moor ended at a cliff edge where the dramatic rocky tower of Alport Castles was revealed in the valley below. My midges weren't happy with the breeze wafting up from the cliff edge and so, for their benefit, I didn't linger.

Near to the Alport Valley Plantation. I could see a young couple coming out of the wood. There seemed to be a heated discussion between them and then the man started walking fast towards me leaving the woman to saunter up more slowly. The man gave me a jaunty 'hello' and a resigned smile as he walked by. When I approached the woman, she stopped and said, 'Tell me it doesn't get any steeper from here?' 'Well it's about the same to be honest', I replied. She didn't look happy, so I quickly added, 'Although, Alport Castles is only about another 20 minutes further up',  She fainted, but I managed to catch her before she hit the floor. When she came around I said, 'It is a wonderful view of Alport Castles from the top and well worth the effort'. She gave me a look that said climbing up 200 metres of vertical height to see a rocky outcrop was never, and never would be, on her life's bucket list. I lied that I'd been mistaken and that it was much less steep from here and only about another 2 minutes walk.  I quickly departed.

Once I reached Howden Reservoir I walked back along the road to where I'd parked the car. Some of my midge friends had got so attached to me that they joined me on my journey home in the car. It had been a cracking walk with bountiful wildlife.