Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Tuesday Night Wonder

I have discovered the best time to go to Edale in the Peak. 6:30pm on a slightly drizzly weekday evening.

When I arrived at the carpark it was empty and free. Just as I set off on my run, two more cars arrived with mountainbikers within.

I cut around the back of the campsite and up to the open-access path allongside Oller Brook. I passed three walkers then had the moors to myself as I passed over Ringing Roger crag and into the drizzle.
The view towards to the top of Kinder was gloomy and getting gloomier. Because I was on my own, because I had left my compass in the van, I decided to head down in a different direction to my initial plan and followed the ridge along to crookstone knoll to descend by more sensible means.

The run along the tops was fast and fun, leaping from one stone to the next and scrambling over little cliffs and drop-offs. The bogs still relatively dry from the spring offered as much resistance to my footfall as velvet cushions and despite kicking myself from time to time, I enjoyed every moment.

The descent was glorious and I paused under the tree where my dad wants his ashes scattered to check the map. There was a half-baked plan to run along the road a little before swinging off to run up to the summit of Mam Tor as well but I soon felt tired-enough to knock that plan on the head for another day.

The bridlepath to the Edale road took me past the mountain bikers on their way up. I crossed the stream bubbling down from Jaggers Clough where I stopped to fill my water bottle for the run back to the car and swore as I thistled the chunk I'd already taken out of my ankle.

Along the narrow paths which feed back to Edale village without touching upon the road I chased two sheep who, thankfully, got tired of running at my pace and hopped over a wall into an open field before I chased them too far from the rest of the flock.

By the time I arrived back at the campsite in Edale, most of the campers were fed up of standing about in the rain and had (probably) gone down the pub. The mountain bikers arrived back at their cars and we all moped about the carpark stretching and delaying the inevitable drive home with our muddy legs.

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