Captain's Log

The Defiant Ones

It looked rather grey when I poked my head outside the tent. A marked contrast with yesterday's golden evening light. The top of Black Hill, across the Woodhead valley, was cloaked in mist. I craned my head around the tent flap and could see that the top of Bleaklow was misty too. Oh well, at least it wasn't raining. At that, a slight mizzle started.

As I was packing up, I noticed what looked like a cairn, about a 100 metres away to the east. Odd that I hadn't seen it when I was looking for a camping spot last night; I'd actually walked quite near it on my quest for a good pitch. An idea struck me that it might be some aircraft wreckage. I've mooched around this area a couple of times in the past and come across some aircraft wreckage by accident. Maybe this was the same wreckage. This could be a tick for my Dark Peak Aircraft Crash Sites Venture.

It was indeed a pile of aircraft wreckage. The plane was Defiant N3378 and crashed here on the 29th of August 1941. The pilot was 24 year old James Craig and he was on his way from Edinburgh to Hibalstow in Lincolnshire. He sometimes gave 'unofficial' lifts to members of the ground crew when he was on a training flight, and on this occasion his unfortunate passenger was Daniel Hampstead. It is a bit of a mystery as to why the aircraft crashed so far off course, in good visibility. One theory is that James was making his way to Wakefield to impress his wife with a fly past. Another theory is that a Spitfire shot at their plane by mistake; a recovery team reckoned that they found bullet holes in the wreckage, although this was denied in the official report. Whatever the reason, it was a month later before the wreckage was discovered by a couple of farmers from Glossop. It seemed that the pair had survived the initial impact of the crash and there was evidence that the pilot had tended to the severe injuries of his passenger. Their bodies were found seated against the fuselage, having apparently died from their injuries and exposure. Near Bleaklow Stones must have been a lonely place to die. In some ways I was quite glad that I'd not noticed the wreckage when I'd pitched my tent.

Near Black Clough

It was tempting to make a direct approach to the path along the top of Near Black Clough, that was clearly visible from Near Bleaklow Stones. From previous visits I knew that the clough was quite steep sided and would be a difficult short cut. Instead , I headed southwards towards the top of the Bleaklow ridge and made my way around to the catchment area that feeds the beck in the clough. This was a longer route, but easier walking. I temporarily walked into mist. The Bleaklow plateau can be a very confusing place from a navigation point of view. The directions of the groughs though are good handrails for finding your way about. I followed one that headed north and this led to the beck at the top of Near Black Clough. The track down the clough is a tricky one. I doubt that there is a level stretch along its whole length. It is boggy and overgrown in places. At least it is a track though; it would be much more difficult if it hadn't been there. It seemed to take an age before I dropped down through the woodland as the beck reached the Woodehad valley. There were some pretty waterfalls and cascades around this point and I walked upstream for a few minutes to get a better view of them. I made my way along the Woodhead valley for a short distance before I met up with the Trans Pennine Trail. A little further westwards, the old Woodhead railway tunnel enters the Pennines. Electricity is the only thing that gets transported through the tunnel nowadays. I'd actually be following the tunnel for the next section of my walk, although that would be above ground rather than below it.

Following The Woodhead Tunnel

The Trans Pennine Trail (TPT) zig-zagged steeply up on to Ironbower Moss. There was a great view westwards from here, down the Woodhead valley towards the reservoirs. Eventually the track flattened out on to easier ground. After a few minutes I left the TPT and branched off uphill on to a stone track to some disused quarries. There seemed to be plenty of birdlife around here with Lapwings, Curlews and Golden Plovers doing well. The track followed the line of the Woodhead tunnel and I passed one of the sighting pillars that were used by the tunnel's engineers. I then arrived at the large, cylindrical brick ventilation shaft. It looked alien in this moorland landscape. The stone track disappeared at the ventilation shaft, but I continued to follow the line of the tunnel on a vague track over marshy ground. I've never found a decent track to take you across this area and I was relieved to reach the eastern side of the valley. A short climb took me to the top of Wike Edge and a wonderful view across the valley to Bleaklow. I could just make out the area where I camped, last night. I picked up a stone track that continued to follow the line of the tunnel, but then diverted off to the south to intercept the B6106. It was all downhill from there to Dunford Bridge which is where I'd pick up the offroad section of the TPT that would take me back to Penistone.

Trans Pennine Trail (TPT)

I stopped for a lunch break at a TPT picnic area at Dunford Bridge. The sun was out now and it was warming up nicely. The trail was busy with cyclists and dog walkers. They looked at me in amusement as I ate some muesli and boiled myself some water for a cup of tea. Had they never seen a backpacker before? Hunger and thirst satiated, I set off on the TPT for the 6 mile stretch to Penistone. The trail has a tarmac surface and it felt hard on the feet and bones. The last time I was here, the energy transmission company had been burying the power cables underground for a couple of miles for aesthetic reasons. It seemed an odd investment choice. There was now a huge sub-station where the cables reappeared and continued their journey eastwards using pylon support. At Bullhouse, I stopped for a rest and read an information board about the Bullhouse Bridge rail disaster of 1884 where passenger coaches became detached from the steam engine and ended up rolling down the embankment. There had been around a 100 passengers in the coaches and 24 of them died. I'd guess that the survivors weren't in that good a shape either.

It was a pleasant walk along the TPT, but it seemed a long way back to Penistone. Yesterday's hard walk had taken its toll, and this morning's efforts compounded my tiredness. It was a relief to get back to Penistone and a welcome rest.

It had been another hard day's walking with a gradual transition from remote moorland to a tarmac trail. I'd enjoyed the epic Pennine views and the contrast with the TPT. It had certainly been a tough Mini Venture.