The Monsal Trail

The third walk we did in the Peak District was the Monsal Trail in Chee Dale. This was actually supposed to be our first walk, but due to snow forecasts on the 26th (which came true!), we decided driving the dodgy Cat & Fiddle road probably wasn't a good idea on that day. Also, it had rained a fair bit on Christmas Day, which might have put a spanner in our plans. When we did head over to Buxton, even though we took the new Cat & Fiddle road, it was pretty scary driving through just white snow on every side- and that was without doing the super-dangerous old road. I have a couple of pictures from the drive back; they've got a bit of window glare on, as we didn't really want to stop when there was nowhere off the road, and certainly we weren't when the hills had some pretty huge snowclouds coming in.

On the way there though, it was gloriously bright and clear, and we could see all the way back to Macclesfield. Ben pointed out where we had been the day before; Shutlingsloe really did earn its name the Mini-Mountain, by far the steepest-sided hill on the horizon. I was amazed, because we hadn't been able to see anything at all the previous day. A flock of grouse whizzed over the fields in front of us, shrieking as they settled down beyond sight of the road.

On the way back, the clouds were so thick we couldn't even see the Cat & Fiddle pub on the side of the road until we were driving past it!

The Monsal Trail runs through Chee Dale, Miller's Dale and Cressbrook, following the river Wye. The most exciting part of the walk, that meant we had to pick a good day to walk on, is the stepping stones that makes up the path at a couple of points along the riverside- they're fairly high above the waterline in the summer, but in the winter when there's a lot of rain, the trail can become impassable as the river level picks up. We parked at Blackwell Mill, which was super-icy (enough to cause a couple of cars to wheelspin horribly when they tried to get out, although they didn't really have the right technique on complete ice), and walked down to the river. Immediately we found we were going to have a bit of difficulty with the trail...




















But we persevered, whether through foolishness or adventure. If the trail becomes completely impassable, there are regular crossings of the river under the old dismantled railway, so it's easy to double back and get up onto high ground to continue your walk. With our first obstacle passed though, we decided that would be only the last resort, and we were definitely going to get as far as possible along the river! Also, we forgot our map, so just following the river was the easiest thing to do.

There are multiple old viaducts along the river walk

Anyway, we set out along it, not really paying attention to how far we were going, just making sure we kinda knew we weren't going to get stuck anywhere (permanently). The snow made it difficult to see the muddy spots, and ice made some bits where water had dripped down onto the path slippery, but we made it! Following the path (which both sets of our parents would have deemed 'too unsafe' to continue along a long time previously), we finally found the first set of stepping stones!

They were almost underwater and there was nobody else around- so nobody else to embarass ourselves in front of in case we fell in, right?- we slowly made our way across to some excitement. Then, further along, another set! These, I got one foot a bit wet with as one or two were definitely underwater, but not enough for us to get dissuaded.

There were only a handful of other people walking, which meant my bird count was through the roof. Long-tailed tits, blue tits, great tits and coal tits filled the trees, with their companion calls one of the loudest noises, next to the sound of the river. Robins and blackbirds also made their appearances, the robins especially Christmassy against the snow. Saving the most exciting until last though, we spotted maybe five or six Dippers along the river, taking off with a blur of white and black!

Super undercutting of the gorge

The path didn't get any easier the further we went along- if anything, it was more difficult as the gorge tightened and we were forced right alongside the river up on a slope at some points. It's a limestone gorge; lime kilns can still be seen alongside the old railway line today. The sides of the river are steep and difficult to walk at points- this is not a light walk! You can read more about the geology and biology of the area here. Anyway, we managed to get along alright, then we came across this rather large obstacle...

We knew we could get across because a couple had come across with their dogs only a little bit before, and we had come much too far to turn around now. So, very slowly, we crossed the network of fallen branches and logs that now made up the 'path', until... yes!

If you can't work it out, this was the other side

Feeling victorious after this, the rest of the path was 'easy', and we emerged out at Miller's Dale station, not nearly as far as we were expected to get in the amount of time that we had been walking, but pleased none the less. The view from the old viaduct was great, and the old railway tracks made a super-quick and easy walk back.

The old Miller's Dale viaduct

The railway closed in 1967, although the main buildings from the station remain; it served as an important transport connection for Buxton to London and Manchester. There was even a Post Office on the platform! It's not there any more though. Walking back towards Blackwell Mill, you can follow the railway line the whole way, which is a much straighter and flatter route than the riverside walk. The few tunnels sped up our progress even more, because it meant not having to trek through a foot of snow!

It only took us about 1/2 hour to walk back along the train line, what had taken us 2 1/2 hours to get to following the river gorge. And, we managed to get out of the car park in one piece!

After an impromptu hiatus...

Whoops, I let this slip a little. Summer has been so busy though; I've been out enjoying the lovely weather, rather than being inside writing! It's not so nice today though (rather grey), so time to re-start this little project of mine.

Hopefully this will give me a few things to write about in the next few weeks though, with a stack of things I've done. Also, lots of photos.

The thing I've done most this week, on my few days off, is rock balancing. It seems like a bit of a weird thing to do, but after an afternoon wander to Peveril Point a couple of weeks ago, I had the idea when someone else had left a couple of piles of rocks. They weren't especially difficult, but looked really cool. So, when I had nothing else to do at the start of this week (and the weather was nice), what better to do than head out to the point again and give it a go myself?

As a kid, I tried this a couple of times on Chesil Bay, which is a bit of a way down the coast, and has much more prevalent rock than Swanage beach. Unfortunately, I was pretty terrible at it, so never gave it another thought after then. Turns out I am actually fairly good at it once I get started though... As I was working on some of the taller stacks (11 is my current top number of rocks balanced on one another), it struck me how similar it was to dry stone walling. You have to find the right rock to balance (just like the right rock for the hole to fill in a wall), otherwise it's not right.

I did start to get a little bit carried away with it, and ended up making quite a lot of stacks the first day. There were a lot of comments too as I was working, near the end, as some of the stacks were fairly tall, and balanced on quite precarious edges!

 There are different techniques to rock balancing apparently, as a quick google afforded me that evening when I had come back and was uploading my pictures. The technique I had been using was called 'pure balance'; each rock is in near-point balance on one another. If you take the top rock off, the rest of the stack's still okay (unless you knock it). Another techinque some of the better rock balancers use is called 'counter balance' though, which affords some impossible looking structures, with rocks balanced at crazy angles. If you take off one rock, the rest is likely to fall.

The next day I used more angular rocks, which gave me a few crazy stacks like the one above. There were more impressive stacks I made, but forgot to take pictures. By the end of the day, I had ended up with 24 of my own stacks, and 1 other that someone had made overnight, apparently inspired by my own left-over creations!

Unfortunately the next day I went to try and stack rocks, it was much too windy and every pile I tried ended up falling over only a few minutes after I'd managed to put them together. A lot of the stacks I had left the day before had gone too, so I called it a day fairly quickly. When the conditions improve a bit more though, no doubt I'll be out there again!