Barrel Inn

I continued following the white stone road of Sir William Hill until it turned back to tarmac again. The road ran near to the top of Eyam Edge and my elevated position meant I could see for miles to the South. A tent, straight ahead in a field, caught my eye. It looked so large I wondered whether the circus had come to town. The only problem with that deduction was that there wasn't a sizeable town for miles. They turned out to be some tents in the grounds of the Barrel Inn at Bretton. The pub had created a canvas extension. It is famous for being the highest pub in the Peak District and I have to agree that with a view like this, it is better to sit outdoors than indoors.

 I turned off the road on to a path over to Grange Farm. It descended steeply down to the brook at the bottom and just as steeply out. I watched a buzzard for a minute or two, soaring in circles over the valley. It was only when I inspected my photo later that I realised that it had a mouse or vole gripped in one of its talons. It hadn't really seemed in a rush to eat it or get back to the nest. Maybe it had been on a shopping trip and was looking out for another side dish.

The day was warming up now and the climb up to Grange Farm had broke me out into a sweat. I headed northwards on a good path, across Abney Moor. The moor was busy with Skylarks singing their song. They always sound like a 1980's modem to me, rather than the delicate tune of Ralph Vaugh Williams, Lark Ascending.

Durham Edge, the highest point on Abney Moor was on my Ethel's list today and so I headed over trackless moor in its direction. Unfortunately the trig point on the summit is on private land. There was only 100 metres separating me from the trig, but that 100 metres included two high stone walls and a locked, barbed gate. Obviously the landowner didn't want visitors. Looking at reports from other walkers, some people obviously do make their way to it, but I was quite happy to tick it off by just seeing the top of the trig. While I was in the area, I thought I'd go and take a look at the Camphill Gliding Field that was just next door. 

 Camphill Gliding Airfield

Given the good breeze and sun it wasn't really surprising that the gliders were queuing up for take off on the airfield. At one end of the airfield there were two pulley mechanisms that looked a bit like tractors. Presumably the large drums at the back was where the cables got wound in. At the other end of the airfield one of the cables would be attached to a glider. Command and control there seemed to be operated from what looked like a bus. When the glider was ready to take off, one of the operators would flash a bright light on the bus. This was an instruction for the winch man to start the winding machine. As you might expect, it made quite a whir as it wound the cable in. I was astonished at how quickly the gliders gained height. Once they started getting pulled and there was no danger of the wings touching the ground, they went into an almost vertical climb. It must be thrilling sat inside it. They seemed to hang on to the cable for ages before releasing it. In fact, due to the direction of the wind, they flew directly over my head and it was at this point that they actually released the cable. I did wonder about my safety with having a long, steel wire dropping towards me, but my fears were abated when a parachute, attached to the cable, opened up to slow its descent. The winch mechanism continued after the cable was released and this dragged the cable back towards the airfield, making it finally land about 100 metres from me.

Once they were up in the air, the gliders didn't have any trouble gaining further height. In fact, if I looked back five minutes after take off, there was no sign of any of the gliders. I thought they might just fly around the airfield, but I guess the conditions were good enough to go much further afield.

Shatton Moor

As I'd walked across Abney Moor I'd watched two different groups of youngsters carrying large rucksacks, heading towards Shatton Moor. On Brough Lane I caught up with one of these groups. They looked like school kids and didn't appear that happy to be 'Right here, right now'. One of them had a radio and was playing some music. It didn't seem to be boosting their morale. The teacher/trainers gave me a smile that betrayed a forced enthusiasm. 

It was only a short climb from the lane up on to the top of Shatton Moor, or Burton Bole as it is known. While I was admiring the view I heard a loud bang that sounded like a quarry blast. I looked over to the quarry at Castleton but couldn't see any dust. 

I took the path eastwards off the summit and this dropped me down the centre of the moor to Siney Sitch. This was the first time I'd ever took this path and was intrigued to find three boundary stones. None of them appeared to have the same letters. I thought about chipping my initials into a random boulder and making my claim for the land.

Abney Clough

I headed down to Oaks Farm and crossed over the road to  Abney Clough. It was really warming up now and I was glad of the coolness of the woodland around Stoke Ford. The relief was short lived though and I soon exited the trees and climbed up an edge to Eyam Moor. Looking up the valley I could see that gliders were still being launched on Abney Moor.  I followed a stone wall across Eyam Moor and it eventually brought me directly to where I'd parked the car on Sir William Hill Road.

It had been an excellent walk with three more Ethels in the bag. Watching the gliders take off was a bonus that I'd not expected. It's a shame I couldn't get to the trig on Durham Edge but life's about the journey, not the destination...so on that basis I'm still ticking it off on my list of Ethels.