A little disappointed with myself because I'd not managed to do the second walk yesterday owing to lack of water, energy and suncream, I toyed with the idea of going back to do it today.
But then I thought to myself... I've no kids this weekend, why not a) do something they wouldn't want to do and b) why don't I push myself a bit?
Crookstone Knoll came to mind; this was a walk up Kinder Scout I'd planned several months previously which took a relatively easy route (by Kinder standards) to the plateau and then all the way along to pick up some of my neighbour's caches (Yorkypudding and Aginghippy aka Sarah and Kevin) leading back down into Edale.
So, in no rush, I was up at nine packing lunch and preparing again for another full day walking. I arrived at Edale for 11:10am, parked up, readied myself, quickly found an urban cache and then set off along the B-road back towards Hope.
My plan here was to walk the couple of miles along the road whilst my legs eased up from yesterday. The sun was out, it was another glorious day and I set off with a strong pace.
This didn't look good. My legs were really aching and arriving at the second cache "Crookstone Knoll 1", after 1.5 miles along a flat road, I was thinking to myself that the day would be a disaster. Spending five minutes looking for and signing this cache I then set off again and after a minute or so I noticed that my legs were feeling fine; either it was 'just that time' or maybe the five minute break had given my legs chance to clear out some lactic acid.
Two miles into the walk I left the road and started a very gentle climb up the moorland fields to an easy find for Crookstone #2. From here the going got tougher until I dipped back down across a stream and back up the other side. Really simple finds for Crookstone caches #3, #4 and #5 and something struck me; my right arm was starting to hurt.
OH FOR GOODNESS SAKE, THE IDIOT HAS FORGOTTEN HIS SUNCREAM FOR THE SECOND DAY RUNNING!
The sun was beating down on one side of me and being fair-skinned I was worried that this was going to be too much. A plan. Fortunately I'd packed my normal lightweight walking coat in case it rained, and also a baseball cap. I put both of these on and wore the cap backwards, feeling like a 'chav' in an attempt to protect my neck. Foolish man, all this and it's only 12:40.
Continuing up to Crookstone #6 and then #7 I stopped under the first shade I'd seen in an hour for lunch - two trees, and briefly helped three lads with a group photo. Taking my coat off so the sweat can evaporate (euw) and enjoying my corned beef salad and mustard I then had to fend off a couple of sheep that were either after my food or the shade - I couldn't decide which. A healthy tomato and celery sticks, all bonus fluids, I saved half my sandwiches so I wasn't too full for this final push to the top.
A tricky magnetic nano on a gatepost for Crookstone #9 then up and up to #10 before struggling with a really tough Crookstone #11 near the summit. I finally found it some distance from where I'd been looking and it taught me to rely on GPS coordinates more than geocaching instinct sometimes! This was the end of the 'Geo-geriatrics' series and a very good one it was too.
A very short distance to the summit and head off NE to get a cache at the high peak of Crookstone Knoll. A good sized well-hidden bonus cache, found, signed, replaced and then...
It was strange.
I'd gone out on my own, braved the 'real world', walked solo to the top of a bloody big hill and found 12 caches on the way. I genuinely shouted "I've done it" across the valley while triumphantly waving my walking pole, and then a euphoria came over me - a feeling partially, no doubt, due to the endorphins kicking in while I'm stopped, and partially the sense of achievement but also a sense of freedom, a sense of escape, the great outdoors, the views, the wind, the sun, the world.
The strangest thing indeed; I could honestly have sat down and cried and even now writing this blog the feelings return.
Deep breath.
Still feeling very moved I started my long journey along the plateau, heading E/SE for almost two miles until I reached Ringing Roger (no I've no idea why either) - an outcrop of rocks overlooking Edale. Still burning up in the sun (with my coat on) I was surprised as I reached these to be suddenly plunged into a gust of wind, nay a gale, that took my cap away and in an amazing ninja-like movement I actually caught it about two feet above my head.
I spent 15 minutes here carefully climbing down the rocks looking for a well hidden cache which I have since awarded a 'favourite' point on the website. A lovely spot although a little hairy in the wind.
I then headed north looking for a path down the mountain that was on my Ordnance Survey map but which I couldn't locate. I could see one that I knew headed south but that went away from where I wanted to be, somewhat west.
I decided to head further north and then head west along the ridge keeping an eye open for another path I knew headed south down the mountain. I never found that one either, so after talking to a knowledgeable lady I decided that as there was no rush I'd head all the way to the top of Grindsbrook a mile or so further west and then take that path down to Edale. I'd not been there before and it would be an adventure.
An adventure, it turns out, that I'd not planned for considering that I'd already done 8.5 miles when I arrived there and I had also run out of water. My t-shirt was sodden and although my arms were safe inside my coat sleeves my neck and face were suffering from the sun.
So Grindsbrook stream, the map claims, has a path. Well I can safely inform you that this particular path does not exist, per se, but after spotting others doing the same you realise it is basically a climb down a stream down a mountain; a rocky and potentially dangerous, steep descent. From my tracks I can see that I descended 80 metres in the first 1/6 of a mile and then a further 140 metres over the next 9/10 mile. It was leg breaking, muscle wobbling stuff and I was utterly fatigued.
Some 150 metres below Ringing Roger I finally got to my desired destination and picked up a cache by Sarah and Kevin - Grindsbrook Silver. I cursed them verbally when I saw it was a small climb back up the hillside and decided to stop and have 'second lunch' (it's actually 16:20) while I plucked up the strength and motivation. Another photo service provided for a father and young child sat by the lovely stream here.
Descending further to Grindsbrook Gold and performing maintenance on it for Sarah (taking old logs to give her and replacing with a new one) I knew I was on the last leg of my epic weekend and indeed another agonising 4/5 of a mile later and I was ordering a much needed pint of lemonade at the pub. I sat drinking it slowly for 20 minutes pondering on the day's adventures and my aching legs before heading off on the last half a mile back to the car.
Total for the fantastic day was 11.6 miles, 17 caches and a burnt neck and ears which thankfully do not hurt even though they look pretty bad.
I did take a dozen pictures today but distance and height do not come out very well and they all look the same, even to me, so I'm not going to upload any except for one and one warning...
Top of Grinds Brook
The neck of an idiot
No comments:
Post a Comment