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A Relaxing Weekend in Derbyshire

I wanted to have a bit of an easier walk this time, nothing too strenuous or arduous, more of a relaxed easy and chilled out time.
So instead of heading out to my usual hilly spots I decided to go to a place that I hadn’t been to for quite some time, it was a place I was familiar with, having spent several summers in consecutive years camping in the area with my children when they were very young.

The area around Stanton Moor in Derbyshire has a great deal to offer, paths litter the area, and there are several natural features to explore as well as several stone circles. An ideal spot to have a walk, a camp, and to just relax in lovely surroundings.

I began my walk on Saturday morning in the village of Birchover, and headed downhill on a path that lead through some old woodland to the main road where I crossed over and and then headed back uphill. The path took me to the Hermits Cave area and also to Robin Hood’s Stride, both geological formations that stand proud of the surrounding landscape. After spending some time exploring both of these features, chatting to a couple of fellas I met there, a spot of lunch and a brew, I headed back out on a circular walk that brought me full circle back to the path I had started on in Birchover.

After a rather nice refreshing pint of a local brew in The Druid, I headed back uphill to where I had parked to pick up my kit so that I could head back out to find a decent spot to pitch up for the night. It was still fairly early in the afternoon, but that was ok because I wanted to have a bit of an explore of the area and go back to the Nine Ladies stone circle I have visited many times before.

As the afternoon wore on I began pitch hunting in a part of the moor I hadn’t been to before, but unfortunately had no luck, but onwards and upwards as they say. I ended up in some very old, and now overgrown quarries. The area is a labrynth of twists and turns, and sharp drops which are potentially very dangerous if you were to lose your footing. Definitely not an area to walk around in the dark for sure.

However, after some exploration I managed to find what I thought was the perfect spot in the bottom of one of these old quarries to pitch the Lanshan for the night, and settle in before it got too dark. Once pitched the first order of business is always to get a brew on the go while bedding etc gets sorted. Personally I like to get the pitch sorted and ready for sleep asap so that I can relax with a hot cuppa and take in the events of the day, and just enjoy the surroundings.
As the sun started to set hunger made it’s presence known, so I got my dinner on the go and opened the collapsible bottle of red wine I usually bring with me, and poured myself a mug of Nero D’Avola (a nice Sicilian wine) to drink as I watched the light diminish around the campsite.

This is very often my favourite time of any camp, pitching is done, camp is set up, food on the go, and a nice drink of a good red……time to relax and take it all in. Nothing to do but listen to the sounds of the night, and if possible a little bit of stargazing while tuning in to your own thoughts and reflecting on the day just gone.

Most of the time I sleep like a baby when I’m in a tent, after all these years I’m still not sure why, but this was no exception and I felt relaxed and refreshed when I woke in the early hours of Sunday morning.
It’s not unusual for me to wake long before sunrise, probably because I sleep so well, but at 4am ish I woke, took care of morning routine, and got a brew on the go. After watching the sun rise through a cloudy sky with my brew in hand, I had breakfast and then explored a few of the twisting passages between the old quarries in the dim light of dawn.

An interesting area for sure, and one I’m going back to very soon. During my exploration of the area that morning I found several spots for a pitch that are not only a bit further out of the way, but a little prettier than the one I was in as well. I think that this is now one of my favourite spots for a quick gettaway and an easy relaxed camp. An awesome place for sure.

Having geolocated the camp in my navigation apps, I packed up, made sure I had left no trace, and headed out across the moor to where I had parked, and with a great sense of peace I began the journey home, having had exactly what I had wanted from the start.
I intended to have a nice relaxing walk and camp, and that is exactly what I got.

Until next time.

A Shropshire Tale

Well……what to say about this one?

In many ways (in fact every way) I’m glad that I went solo on this one. As much as I like the company on these little adventures, as it turned out I don’t think anyone else would have enjoyed this one.

I know I didn’t.

Eventually found a spot to pitch my repaired Taiji 2

First off I arrived about half an hour before it started to get dark, so I had to find a pitch fairly quickly or face pitching in darkness. This wouldn’t normally be an issue except for the fact that the whole area seemed to be covered in heather. Heather sounds nice I hear you say. To look at yes, to smell it’s scent yes, but to pitch a tent on, definitely not. It’s stems are hard and woody and will perforate your tent in no time. So the search went on. However, I did get lucky and found a patch of clear ground just big enough to get my tent on. Phew!!

Darkness fell, I made myself a well deserved brew, I had some scoff, and then decided to just chill for the night. Unfortunately, because of the aforementioned timing issue I had to pitch only a short distance from where I had parked, about 400m as the crow flies.

But this meant that when another vehicle parked up in the car park with headlights beaming out and making lots of clunking noises that carried in the night, I immediately thought the worst and made surprisingly good time across the pitch black moorland, back to the scene of where the imagined car rape was taking place.

Thankfully though it turned out to be a radio ham in a van setting up their arial and getting ready for a night of chat with folks as far away as Canada. Apparently it’s a good spot for them. Well, after pretending to get something small from my van in an effort to innocently explain why I suddenly emerged from the undergrowth in a hurry, I had a nice chat with the folks there and learned something about their culture (radio hams) and chatted about mine (camping). I then headed back to my tent feeling a little foolish for my over reaction and my pathetic attempt to cover it.

However, a little later I could hear the sounds of motors going up and down the road at fairly regular intervals, but from the sound of them I could tell it was the rangers looking for the bastard that thought he could camp on their turf. You see the very nice radio ham people had informed me that there were a couple of particularly irritable rangers in their mini flatbed agricultural vehicles that took great delight in harassing anyone that dared to lurk around after dark.

The tent I was using that night blended very well into the surrounding foliage, and the descending mist covered me from view, and so I remained undetected. I eventually settled down for the night, had some more scoff, drank some very nice wine, and actually ended up having a very pleasant evening.

The real problems began the following morning. The mist had really closed in with total visibility down to a maximum of 30m.

After breakfast I packed up and headed back to my van and the scene of my embarrasment, only to find one of the rangers in his dinky little van waiting for the disrespectful little bastard to return from his illicit night out so that he could excoriate him fully.
After what was a lesson in why wildcamping is a bad thing I thought the best thing I could do was to head into town and get another breakfast, wait for a short while and then head back up.
The full english breakfast was good! I can honestly say it was really good!

After what I thought was a reasonable amount of time I headed back up to find another parking spot that I could head out from.
Unfortunately the universe had other plans. Part way up the very narrow single track road that leads to the upland, another driver decided not to wait and passed by me far too close and obliterated my wing mirror. After a bit of a discussion about the incident, the other driver accepted his fault and decided not to involve the insurance companies, and payed me in cash for the damage instead. That was something I guess.

So once again I set off up the hill to find a spot to park up, which thankfully I did. However, visibility had not improved one bit, and I was looking at about the same 30m of land in whichever direction I looked. Undeterred I was going through my kit when I heard the familiar sound from the night before, the sound of a tiny flatbed carrying what I have come to think of as a tiny tinpot Hitler with an ego complex. Without so much as a word he pulled up close by and just sat there watching me. Clearly I was not going to start out from there.

I got in my van and drove off under the watchful gaze of my new best friend.
After a short drive (the Long Mynd isn’t that big), I found somewhere else to park up and started again. At this point the mist was clearing in pockets giving some stunning views of the sharp hills in the distance, but only lasting a few minutes before it closed in again.

A very brief view of the hills as the mist cleared for a few minutes.

I did manage to take some pics in this time which I was glad of, but it also allowed my friend to make his way towards me and once again disrupt my plans.

Once again I boarded my chariot and headed out searching for the solitude of one.
I found another decent spot to park up, only this time I wasn’t hanging around. However, the familiar sound once again broke the silence as soon as I opened the back of the van, but it wasn’t my best friend, it was my best friends mate. They were working as a team and had started to tag team me.
It was at this point that I accepted I wasn’t going to win and decided that I had to ‘retire from the field of combat’.

My plans, like my van, were bruised and battered and lay in pieces all around me. There was only one thing I could do…..go home.

A Chilled Weekend

Last weekend was a return to Bannau Brycheiniog, this time to the west of Pen Y Fan for a very chilled overnight camp under the trees on Friday, followed by the four waterfalls walk Saturday, and then on to Llyn Y Fan Fawr for another overnight camp at what turned out to be a stunning spot.

I’d been looking forward to this particular walk ever since Mark, a friend of mine, and I talked about it during the last walk we went on.
Plans were made, locations chosen, and a watchful eye was kept on the weather.

Mark, Alex, another friend, and myself met up at a remote car park Friday afternoon and made our way the short distance to the spot chosen for that night. The intention was for it to be just a very relaxed and chilled camp before the following days walk. And to be fair, that’s exactly what we got.

Hidden away in a small conifer wood next to a foresters track, were three tents pitched up underneath a clear sky full of stars, and the tall trees providing the perfect frame.

We made a brew, drank alcohol free beer, sipped at a rather fruity red with firm tannins, ate packet food, and stood around looking at the night sky chatting away in what was a very mild night for three middle aged men hanging around in a dark wood. I’d like to think that we were the scariest thing in the woods that night, but I think that honour probably went to a badger.

The following morning saw us strike camp after breakfast and make our way back along the foresters track to the car park and our cars. However, despite only being a couple of miles away from the meeting point with Mike Lawrence, we somehow managed to be twenty minutes late (I can only apologise again for the tardiness), and after the introductions and hello’s, it was off down the path to the four waterfalls.

The kind of picture I can take will never do justice to the natural beauty and feeling of power that exudes from these wonders of nature, but I took a whole bunch of pictures and videos anyway. I’ve always been a sucker for a good waterfall.

The four of us made our way round the walk visiting each fall in turn, each with it’s own particular charm and character, but for me the best was the one we could all walk behind. I visited this one some years ago when my boys were still very young, and I remember carrying each of them in turn behind it, which they still remember to this day.

However, this time I was accompanied by three other very excited middle aged teenagers, and after putting on our waterproof jackets we made our way towards, and then behind the curtain of water thunderously cascading down.

Pictures were taken, giggles were had, and after a thoroughly good soaking from the spray, we made our way back to the steps leading upwards to the main circular path.
Mike was only with us for the day, a day which seemed to pass fairly quickly. Despite this, it was really good to meet with Mike and chat about all sorts of things, including his love of trig points, and one trig point in particular. Such an incredibly heartwarming story.
After a coffee and something to eat at a kiosk near the waterfalls walk, Mark, Alex, and myself, said goodbye to Mike (who I believe would have earned a few brownie points with an early return home), and made our way by car to the next part of the weekend.

Now, this next part should, in theory, have been an easy walk. There were no steep inclines, no hard terrain, and it was a low level walk leading to Llyn Y Fan Fawr and the campsite. However, for Mark and myself it turned out to be something of a trial of will. For some reason the 5k Sunday stroll was one of the hardest walks I’ve done in a long time, the sheer effort it took to make our way to the campsite was tremendous. Not so for the waggy tailed Labrador accompanying us, oh no, he was fairly hop skip and jumping his way along while Mark and myself were feeling every step, like a pair of knackered old pit ponies.

It was postulated by Mark that it was because of the earlier walk around the waterfalls and the energy expended doing it, but personally I think that the mountain fairies gave us only just enough energy to complete the walk in front of us and nothing more. Who was right we’ll never know, but eventually we made it, knackered and exhausted.

It was worth it though, the Llyn is a magnificent spot with great views, perched below a steep escarpment on one side, and a big vista of the varied landscape on the other. When dusk fell the view across the Llyn gave a truly atmospheric feel to a hard won camp.

We all pitched up and then set about eating huge numbers of calories to make up for the earlier loss, and once sated, and after another social, we settled in for the night.

The following morning after breakfast we packed up and headed back the way we came, back to where our cars were parked. Oddly, it didn’t seem as difficult as the day before. Perhaps the mountain fairies were feeling generous.

We decided to find a local cafe for a coffee and breakfast, and by complete accident we seemed to find the very best in the area. Great coffee, and a gourmet sausage roll.

This marked the end of what was a great weekend of camping in good company.

It’s no secret that I love getting out in the hills and camping out whenever I can. The feeling of freedom is incredible, not to mention the psychological, emotional, and physical benefits, but these are something I have generally experienced on my own.
However, recently I’ve enjoyed having company on these walks, the company of interesting men looking to experience the same benefits. I’ve enjoyed getting to know the people I walk with, their past, their present, and their planned futures. And I like to think that I’ve made at least one good friend along the way.

Who could ask for more?