Captain's Log

TPT

I decided to take advantage of a two day break in this summer of rain and carry out a Mini Venture involving a circular walk from Penistone to Bleaklow. It sounds simple enough when you say it like that, but I knew that much of the trackless terrain involved would make it a tough walk. Given the expected difficulties, I decided to opt for an easy start by following the Trans Pennine Trail westwards from Penistone's railway station.  This is formed out of a disused railway track, has a tarmac surface, and so I made quick progress away from Penistone. There were frequent open views from the trail and plenty of wildlife and flowers to make the journey interesting. There was also an abundance of large wooden sculptures along the trail to keep me entertained. My favourite was probably the dual installation of a large carrot with a huge rabbit's head poking out of the undergrowth, a short distance away. The tarmac surface is a bit hard on the bones and feet though, and I was grateful when I reached my turn-off that would take me towards the moors to the south. I broke free of the trees and followed the east edge of Thurlstone Moor to the busy A628. This road intrusion didn't last long though and by the time I made my way through the forestry plantation on the other side, it was a distant memory. A field hop and farm tracks brought me to the stone Hordron Road. This would be my route deep into the moors.

Near Cat Clough

The Hordron Road led me towards Hordron Clough where there was a definite feeling of remoteness.  I was heading to Harden Moor which stretched alongside the clough to the south. This moor holds two tributary cloughs: Far Cat Clough and Near Cat Clough, and I descended down into the valley where a footbridge gave an easy crossing of the beck. Before crossing the bridge I took the opportunity to get some water from the The Little Don River, since there wouldn't be any opportunity to get any once I was up on the moors. This meant carrying 3.5 litres of water, but it couldn't be helped. I started making my way up the track that followed Near Cat Clough upwards on to the moors. Mid June and the path was very boggy; this didn't bode well for the rest of the walk. The track was a little overgrown too. At least the weather was good this afternoon. The sun was out and there was a welcome cool breeze. I plodded upwards and the moor flattened out until I reached the wooden post that indicated that I was at the top and at the intersection of the east-west track running across Howden Edge. There wasn't much evidence of a track though. There were just deep groughs that were filled with menacing black bog and water. On the western horizon I could see the huge lump of Bleaklow. I started heading in that direction.

Howden Edge

Many year's ago, there used to be a recognisable track across the broad back of Howden Edge. It was occasionally boggy, but quite discernible. About 7 or 8 years ago, some mini-dams were created along the top to recreate the bog environment. I was a bit sceptical about these when they were first implemented since they seemed to be having very little impact at first. There is no denying now that they've done their job now though. Harden Moor, Howden Edge and Featherbed Moss are now very boggy places and it takes persistence and endurance from the walker to traverse them. There was occasional evidence of a track, but these were so boggy that it was sometimes easier to walk on rougher, drier ground at their side. Every so often, I came across waterlogged groughs that required a significant detour to get around. It was hard work, especially with a heavy pack. I waded through the heather to the Hoar Stones in the hope that I might pick up a better track from there, but I was disappointed to find that it was as trackless as everywhere else. At least the massive stones provided a good place to have a break.  I contemplated that Bleaklow still seemed a huge distance away, as I munched on a cheese sandwich. I wondered whether this walk had been such a good idea as a backpacking excursion. I made my way back up to the top of Howden Edge and plodded westwards for what seemed like an eternity. Beyond Featherbed Moss, any semblance of a track disappeared. An occasional wooden post indicated that some other human being had been around here in the past. To my south, the Upper Derwent Valley reached its termination, and my path swung southwards up to the ridge supporting Bleaklow Stones. At least, the OS map said there was a path. There wasn't much evidence of it today though. I've been in this area a few times and even found a couple of wooden posts on one  occasion. I didn't find any today as I forged my own route up towards Bleaklow Stones.

Bleaklow

The terrain didn't improve even when I trudged up on to the broad ridge. There were even bigger groughs up here and they proved significant obstacles as I turned westwards to the prominent Bleaklow Stones on the skyline. A sheep gave me a bemused look as I clambered up and over, or around the groughs. It was slow progress, but eventually the stone ramparts became larger. I felt exhausted as I reached the top and unhooked my rucksack from my back to have a rest. I looked back eastwards, towards the moors that I'd traversed. It looked a very, very long way. Bleaklow Stones are really quite amazing. Bizarrely, for such a remote location, some of the stones have been defaced with graffiti, some of which is quite old. A cloud had cloaked the sun on my arrival and there was a bitterly cold wind scouring the summit. I'd hoped that I might find a sheltered spot near to the stones to pitch my tent, but I couldn't find one as I meandered between the formations. It was  already 19:30, but being mid June, light wouldn't be an issue. I continued my way westwards and decided to drop down to Near Bleaklow Stones that are at a slightly lower elevation. Maybe I could find shelter there. I did find a pitch near the stones, although to be honest, it wasn't that flat or sheltered. I'd had enough walking for the day though and it would just have to do. It had a fine view over towards the Woodhead valley. I could even see the track down Near Black Clough that heads down into the valley. That would be my escape route off Bleaklow tomorrow. I pitched the tent and made myself a hot chocolate and sipped it while watching a golden sun slip below the horizon. 

It had been an exhausting walk. It would have been tough even without all my backpacking gear. The views from Bleaklow though were stunning. I'd met plenty of sheep, but not one walker. This was a very remote place. I considered this as a massive jet flew just above my head, full of people, on its way to land at Manchester airport.