Tuesday 2 July - Edale to Laddow Rocks
Distance and ascent: 31km, 1200m
Weather: Dry with plenty of sunshine.
We had a need to be in Halifax on Wednesday afternoon this week, so I thought I'd grab the opportunity for a logistically-easy (relatively speaking) overnight backpacking trip. Mick would drop me at the train station on his way to an appointment on Tuesday morning, I'd catch the train to Edale, I'd walk to Nikki's Snack Bar (next to where the PW crosses the M62) and Mick would pick me up from there on Wednesday.
A train ticket was bought, then I thought a little further about timings and realised that covering 26km by 1130 on Wednesday (the time by which Mick needed to pick me up on order to reach Halifax in time) might be a bit of an ask. I soon came up with a fall-back plan: if I continued on to The White House then there's an hourly bus direct to Halifax.
Plan sorted, all I had to do was execute it.
The train journeys went smoothly, but I stumbled as I left Edale station and fell into the adjacent building...
Always best to start a walk well fuelled and hydrated.
It was 1115 as I stepped back outside, donned my pack and strode off up the road. I should add that I had gloves on. And a fleece and a windshirt. It's July for goodness sake!
I've been out on the southern most end of the PW (as far north as Pinhaw Beacon) enough times in recent years that I pretty much know the way now, so there was no faffing with navigation as I set out across the fields towards Upper Booth.
Last time I set out from Edale (August 2021), it was quarter past seven in the morning and I only met a handful of people. Turns out it's a whole lot busier as lunchtime approaches and many a greeting was exchanged, although I only had a conversation with a couple who had been sitting near me on the train who I suspected were headed to Kirk Yetholm. They were.
I don't think I would be exaggerating to say that I saw 50 more backpackers as the day went on, with D of E groups making up the majority. There were even more day walkers.
That cake from the cafe? It was huge, so I saved the second half for Kinder Low.
Thanks to the great slab of cake, I decided to postpone lunch until 2pm. The problem was that by then I was on my way from Mill Hill to Snake Road and there is absolutely nowhere to pause along that section when ground conditions are wet, unless you plonk yourself down in the middle of the flags, and there were too many people around for me to take that option.
So, it was ten past three by the time I finally found somewhere to sit that was out of the cold wind (and, happily, during a sunny spell, so it was rather a pleasant little break).
By the time I went over Bleaklow I was out of water, so at Torside Castle I took a minor upstream diversion and set about filtering some peaty water. That did not go well for two reasons: 1) despite having back flushed the filter before leaving home, the flow rate was appalling. I think it may be time for a new filter. 2) I'd taken soft bottles with me, which meant that I didn't have a solid bottle that I could stand on the ground to leave both hands free for the filtering. The combination of a filter that has been a filter too long + only having one had free to squeeze the bottle was not good. Rather than getting my pot or mug out to solve the problem I just sucked water straight from the filter, but even that was hard going.
The final D of E group was passed just before Torside and just beyond the dam I availed myself of the bench to sit and have a chat to Mick.
I had toyed with staying at the campsite at Crowden, but the only benefit I could see was the availability of drinking water, and the cost (besides the money) was the extra distance. Given tomorrow's tall order of time versus distance, I decided to continue on a couple more kilometres.
From my recollection I didn't think it would be too difficult to find a pitch just before Laddow Rocks. What I hadn't accounted for was the growth of bracken since our last visit three months ago. No panic, as there's always somewhere campable to be found (even if the definition of 'campable' gets broader as the day goes on).
A series of faffs then ensued. The first potentially campable spot would have only sufficed if really desperate, but I took the opportunity to refil my filter bottle. At the next stream there was no flat, bracken free land, but I filled my other bottle in preparation for a dry camp, and pinned my hopes on Black Chew Head. In between time I examined the landscape and checked the upcoming contour lines on the map a number of times.
The final climb of the day was slow. I was tired by now having walked 30km with only one ten minute sit down break. As the gradient of the PW levelled out, I left the trail to go slightly further uphill on the path towards Chew Reservoir, and almost immediately I had confidence that I would find a suitable spot up there.
A few hundred metres later I veered off they path and had a decision to make: to pitch hidden in a dip notwithstanding the forecast for heavy rain overnight, or to pitch on high ground, safe from overnight flooding, but visible from the path. I decided the peace of mind of being hidden was of more value to me, so picked the highest of the low ground and as the clock struck seven, Connie Competition was pitched.
A train ticket was bought, then I thought a little further about timings and realised that covering 26km by 1130 on Wednesday (the time by which Mick needed to pick me up on order to reach Halifax in time) might be a bit of an ask. I soon came up with a fall-back plan: if I continued on to The White House then there's an hourly bus direct to Halifax.
Plan sorted, all I had to do was execute it.
The train journeys went smoothly, but I stumbled as I left Edale station and fell into the adjacent building...
It was 1115 as I stepped back outside, donned my pack and strode off up the road. I should add that I had gloves on. And a fleece and a windshirt. It's July for goodness sake!
I've been out on the southern most end of the PW (as far north as Pinhaw Beacon) enough times in recent years that I pretty much know the way now, so there was no faffing with navigation as I set out across the fields towards Upper Booth.
Last time I set out from Edale (August 2021), it was quarter past seven in the morning and I only met a handful of people. Turns out it's a whole lot busier as lunchtime approaches and many a greeting was exchanged, although I only had a conversation with a couple who had been sitting near me on the train who I suspected were headed to Kirk Yetholm. They were.
I don't think I would be exaggerating to say that I saw 50 more backpackers as the day went on, with D of E groups making up the majority. There were even more day walkers.
Thanks to the great slab of cake, I decided to postpone lunch until 2pm. The problem was that by then I was on my way from Mill Hill to Snake Road and there is absolutely nowhere to pause along that section when ground conditions are wet, unless you plonk yourself down in the middle of the flags, and there were too many people around for me to take that option.
So, it was ten past three by the time I finally found somewhere to sit that was out of the cold wind (and, happily, during a sunny spell, so it was rather a pleasant little break).
By the time I went over Bleaklow I was out of water, so at Torside Castle I took a minor upstream diversion and set about filtering some peaty water. That did not go well for two reasons: 1) despite having back flushed the filter before leaving home, the flow rate was appalling. I think it may be time for a new filter. 2) I'd taken soft bottles with me, which meant that I didn't have a solid bottle that I could stand on the ground to leave both hands free for the filtering. The combination of a filter that has been a filter too long + only having one had free to squeeze the bottle was not good. Rather than getting my pot or mug out to solve the problem I just sucked water straight from the filter, but even that was hard going.
The final D of E group was passed just before Torside and just beyond the dam I availed myself of the bench to sit and have a chat to Mick.
I had toyed with staying at the campsite at Crowden, but the only benefit I could see was the availability of drinking water, and the cost (besides the money) was the extra distance. Given tomorrow's tall order of time versus distance, I decided to continue on a couple more kilometres.
From my recollection I didn't think it would be too difficult to find a pitch just before Laddow Rocks. What I hadn't accounted for was the growth of bracken since our last visit three months ago. No panic, as there's always somewhere campable to be found (even if the definition of 'campable' gets broader as the day goes on).
A series of faffs then ensued. The first potentially campable spot would have only sufficed if really desperate, but I took the opportunity to refil my filter bottle. At the next stream there was no flat, bracken free land, but I filled my other bottle in preparation for a dry camp, and pinned my hopes on Black Chew Head. In between time I examined the landscape and checked the upcoming contour lines on the map a number of times.
The final climb of the day was slow. I was tired by now having walked 30km with only one ten minute sit down break. As the gradient of the PW levelled out, I left the trail to go slightly further uphill on the path towards Chew Reservoir, and almost immediately I had confidence that I would find a suitable spot up there.
A few hundred metres later I veered off they path and had a decision to make: to pitch hidden in a dip notwithstanding the forecast for heavy rain overnight, or to pitch on high ground, safe from overnight flooding, but visible from the path. I decided the peace of mind of being hidden was of more value to me, so picked the highest of the low ground and as the clock struck seven, Connie Competition was pitched.
A fine rain started to fall as I was faffing with her tension, making me think I'd timed my day well, but it turned out to be a short-lived misting of rain, so even if I'd still been walking it wouldn't have troubled me.
Two cups of tea, a big pot of food and another cup of tea refreshed me and after a disjointed text chat with Mick (I could only get a phone signal by standing on the higher ground 10m from the tent, and it was too cold to stand out there for long in one go) I took myself off to bed.
Wednesday 3rd July - Laddow Rocks to A640
Distance and Ascent: 19.9km, 570m
Weather: Heavy rain overnight, but dry whilst walking save for one prolonged shower. Cold and windy.
I lay down for 6.5 hours overnight, but the best that can be said is that I dozed sporadically. The main culprits were the Manchester Airport flight path (do they not have a curfew?!), the heavy rain that started at midnight and, to a lesser extent, the gusty wind. Having such a big meal at gone 8pm probably didn't help either.
At 4am the rain eased temporarily and I lay there listening to the nearby babbling stream, until it occurred to me that I hadn't pitched anywhere near a stream and maybe I should take a quick peak outside to see if I was in danger of being washed away. Satisfied that the newly developed stream was a good metre away, I settled back down for another short while, before getting up at 0430. I figured that if I was walking by 0530 then I should make it to the M62 in time.
At 0516 I took a video snippet, really just for the audio of the rain, which was again hammering down. Then a miracle occurred - as I unzipped the tent and stepped outside, it stopped!
It was 0545 by the time I actually set out, soon rejoining, and returning along, the path that had been completely dry less than 12 hours earlier but that now bore a remarkable resemblance to a river. The Laddow Rocks path is flatter, so that was just one big puddle, overhung by sopping vegetation.
Given the amount of rain, I expected the fords (that had caused us to take a diversion in April) to be running deep, but I got across both without getting my feet wetter. Conversely, the sunken flagstones nearer to Black Hill were much deeper in water than they had been on that previous outing (so I went round and got my feet just as wet crossing the bog as I would have if I'd just waded along the flags).
I'd been tired since the moment I'd started walking and wasn't perking up, so as I went over Black Hill I was pinning my hopes on the snack wagon at the road crossing. I'd boiled (to save the pain of filtering) half a litre of water last night, and figured that a big mug of tea at the snack wagon would not only perk me up, but would also provide enough fluid for me not to need to worry about refilling again.
Mick phoned me as I started down the other side and confirmed my thought - if I could see the road but couldn't see the snack wagon, then the snack wagon wasn't there. What a blow! Admittedly it was early (just gone 7am) but I was hoping that today it had gone out to serve the commuter traffic.
To add insult to lack-of-water it started to rain just after I passed the layby-without-snack-wagon. At least no rain-gear faffing was needed. For warmth I'd been wearing full waterproofs, including waterproof mitts over fleece gloves (not to mention woolly hat and a buff - come on July, what are you doing?!) since I'd set out.
Considering the amount of water I'd encountered after the overnight rain, the streams running into the Wessenden Reservoirs were strangely empty. I eventually found a barely flowing, accessible stream and filled a bottle.
When I'd spoken to Mick earlier I'd told him that, if I had a signal at 9am, I would let him know whether he was to meet me at the M62 or the A640 (3k short of the M62), as in my state of tiredness I couldn't face the longer day to the White House plus a long bus journey. I'd been doing repeated mental calculations and by 0830 had decided it felt like too much of a rush to reach the M62, particularly as I had in mind that it would be nice to stop and brew a cup of tea rather than fighting with the water filter. I found just about enough signal to convey most of that message, and onwards I went, soon stopping to divest myself of my waterproofs and buff, and to switch hat and gloves for more summery options (cap and fingerless gloves). I then proceeded in a state of barely warm enough.
Swellands Reservoir was completely empty, and a wooden roadway has been constructed on the north side of it, presumably to allow access to whatever plant is required to perform whatever repair/maintenance it has been emptied for. Soon after, I approached the A62 where I encountered a dog walker. Along with the dog walker I'd met by Wessenden Reservoir, they were the only people I saw on this day; what a contrast to yesterday! (Admittedly, leaving Laddow Rocks before 6am probably had quite a bit to do with how quiet it was.)
By now I'd realised that I'd miscalculated and, even with my extended faff to change clothes, I would have had plenty of time to reach the M62. What I couldn't do was convey this to Mick. I felt sure he would have his phone available for a hand's-free call, but I didn't want to distract him and have him need to reset his destination whilst driving when there was no good reason not to stick with the plan. I contemplated three options: 1) pitch the tent for an hour; it would give it chance to dry out and give me shelter; 2) continue walking towards the M62, then double back, thus doing the distance even if not reaching the destination; 3) just go to the car park and wait.
I went for the third option, although it was such a strong and cold wind in the car park that I sat on the flagstone path just below it, put on ALL of my clothing (did I mention that I'm a bit disgruntled with this weather in July?!) and finally used the water I'd picked up all of those miles before by making that cup of tea I'd been hankering after. I was, incidentally, sitting next to two streams, but as I'd taken the trouble to carry that water from Wessenden, I was jolly well going to use it.
The timing didn't work out too badly in the end, as Mick had set out a few minutes earlier than intended and had a good run of traffic, thus just as I finished my cup of tea I saw Erica-the-campervan trundling up the road and a minute later I was sitting in her lovely and warm interior. About five minutes after, both Mick's and my phone went ping simultaneously. Mick had just received my message saying I was sitting just below the car park; I had received Mick's saying he'd just arrived in the car park.
As for the kit I carried on this trip, I think it deserves a post of its own.
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