Peak District: Exploring Bleaklow
Back in January, I did my first wild-camp in the Peak District. The top of Winnats Pass above Castleton was quite an easy camp, and the walk wasn't really comparable to the hill-walking involved on my previous Lake District camps. That was probably the reason it was a good spot for my first Peak District wild camp, as it gave impressive views for relatively little effort.
This time, my return to the Peak District would be to explore the heath-moorland & rolling hills in the northern part of the Peak District.
After driving through Glossop, I took the A57 Snake Pass road which winds its way up onto the moors, linking Manchester with Sheffield.
The top of the pass runs across the flat col between the large expansive moors of Bleaklow and Kinder Scout on either side. There is a large lay-by adjacent to the road, which is where I parked up to begin my exploration of Bleaklow, the second highest peak in Derbyshire.
The Pennine Way path crosses the road, and it was here where I picked up the path towards Higher Shelf Stones. For the 1st August, it was a cloudy & blustery late afternoon. I followed the well-trodden Pennine Way path for just over half a mile, before I turned onto a narrow path which took me 'off-piste' and onto the open moorland.
The terrain was peaty, and there was a slight 'squelch' underfoot. The path descended to a small stream at the head of a valley called Crooked Clough. The stream crossing involved leaping peak hags to avoid the boggy banks of the stream.
Heading up the bank on the opposite side of the stream, I returned onto the expanse of grassy moorland, which was still boggy underfoot. As I headed straight up the hillside, and moving to dryer ground, the path became clearer and eventually a good narrow path appeared which headed to the summit of Higher Shelf Stones. This was a lovely little spot, until I spotted some graffiti etched onto one of the rocks. It was also very exposed to the westerly wind, which ruled out this spot as my camping spot for the night.
I took the path east away from the summit, and was on the lookout for the wreckage of the B-29 Super-fortress Photo-Reconnaissance bomber named 'Overexposed'. It wasn't long before I start spotting small shiny pieces of fuselage scattered amongst the grass. But that was just the start...
The crash site itself was over a large area. Large pieces of the plane from the engines, fuselage, wings and undercarriage were all clearly identifiable, twisted, rusted and open to the elements. This model of plane was of the same type that dropped 'the bomb' on Hiroshima & Nagasaki which ended World War Two. This exact aeroplane was used on reconnaisance missions to film, photograph & document atom bomb tests at Bikini Atoll in the South Pacific, before it was re-assigned to Europe in the late 1940's to take part in the Berlin Airlift.
Overexposed's fateful last mission on 3rd November 1948 was in fact a straight-forward task which involved transporting supplies, wages and a total of 13 crew members from RAF Scampton in Lincolnshire to the American Airforce Base (AFB) Burtonwood, near Warrington, Cheshire. The routine flight normally took around 25 minutes.
Unfortunately, the weather on that early November morning wasn't on the flight-crew's side, and low cloud was the ultimate cause of the crash. The plane had begun its decent too early, and ploughed nose-first into the moorland. All 13 crew members died instantly.
While most of the wreckage was recovered from the site - including an intact 25 foot tall tail section -the site now serves as a memorial to those who perished. Around the site are a number of crosses laid out with rocks on the ground, and is believed to mark where the crew members were found by the Mountain Rescue first-responder team. An American flag flies sombrely from a section of the undercarriage, where part of the tyre is still attached to a wheel.
The clouds had begun to break, and I headed north away from the crash site into open heath-land. I decided to make my way up onto Bleaklow's summit. The thick heather and intermittent path meant it was a good exercise in way-finding. Large steep-sided peat 'canyons' were obstacles I needed to navigate around - as the sides were too high & too steep to make my way down with my camping rucksack.
There was a large grit-stone rock formation sticking out from the heather, which I spotted another walker standing on top of. I waded through the heather to the rocks, which I later found out are called the Hern Stones.
Luckily from the Hern Stones, I picked up a faint path north, and it slowly began to climb out of the dampest part of the moor onto dry land.
As the path climbed, more rock formations began to appear out of the ground, until after a short distance I reached the Wain Stones - two large erratic boulders perched on a grit-stone plinth.
What I wasn't aware of at the time, is that the Wain Stones are also known as the kissing stones, and from a certain angle (annoyingly just a few steps to the left of where I took my photo ), the rocks look like two lovers about to kiss.
The path turn a sharp right at Wain Stones, up through a peat grough to come out onto Bleaklow's summit plateau. I followed the flat path straight to the large cairn marking the summit of Bleaklow Head (2,077 ft).
The Pennine Way also passes this cairn, and a small handy stone post marks the direction for it's walkers. For me, I was on the lookout for a place to pitch my tent.
I back-tracked a short distance from the cairn to where I exited the peat grough onto the plateau, and decided on a small pitch that was tucked behind some peat hags, sheltered from the wind.
It was gone half seven by the time the tent was up. The evening became calm a settled, I saw a Curlew flying east, making its distinctive call. I could also hear Red Grouse in the heather - its call meaning is was heard but not seen - bar a few fleeting glimpse as they flew short distances low over the heather.
For a change, I had brought my MSR Pocket Rocket 2 camping stove, along with my new Jetboil Skillet frying pan. I bought the skillet back in March, but due to the lockdown, this was the first time I had it out in the 'wild'.
There had been alot in the news rcently about McDonald's reopening its drive-thru, with ridiculously long queues of vehicles jamming up the roads from people desperate to get their first Big Mac in months.
I decided I could go one better, and made my own 'Big Mark' burger. I had prepared all my ingredients prior to leaving home - weighing out & forming the burger patty - dicing some red onion - measuring out a portion of burger sauce - packing a slice of 'american' cheese - and of course, a few pickles. I had separated the ingredients into small Tupperware containers, and put those containers into a cool bag. After a few minutes of frying, I assembled my burger, and it looked pretty darn good - and tasted better still!
I couldn't have any fries to accompany it, but a packet of salt and vinegar crisps did the job.
From my tent, a few steps up the peat hag next to me opened up stunning views over the Manchester conurbation. A few more steps away were some large, flat rocks, and these were a perfect stage for me to stand and watch the night draw in, while washing down my burger with a few well earned beers.
It was a pretty grey morning when I stuck my head out of the tent, after being awoken by some chattering grouse. I crawled out of the tent, and started on breakfast. As I had brought my frying pan with me, it was only right that I make myself a bacon butty. (I'd even remembered the ketchup!). As I was strolling around my tent eating breakfast, I spotted something fast moving along the ground from the corner of my eye. I kept watching it until it stopped, and I realised what it was. It was only small, but I'm pretty sure it was a young Mountain Hare (Leveret?) Unfortunately it was quick, and after it paused for a break, it was soon scampering off into the heather again. To be honest, that would be the highlight of the morning, as things soon turned.
After breakfast I packed away my tent, and headed back to the large cairn, picking up the Pennine Way track heading south. The slightly disappointing thing about this track it that it soon dropped into a peat grough, and weaved its way along the bottom of the trough, meaning you could really see any of the landscape bar what was in the gully.
I decided I would climb out of the gully, and head back over to Hern Stones, and pick up the trail back to the B-29 crash site.
The first part was easy enough, and I easily navigated my way across the moor to Hern Stones, just as the cloud began to lower and the rain began.
Out came my waterproof jacket, away went my camera, and my rain cover went over the rucksack.
Luckily I hknew where I was, and where I needed to go. From Hern Stone, I picked up a rough, boggy path heading in a south westerly direction. If I kept on that bearing I knew I would reach the crash site. After a short distance, the Hern Stones disappeared into the clag behind me, and all around me was similar looking peat knolls. It was plain to see how easy it would be to get lost in these conditions!
Luckily my bearing paid off, and I soon reached the crash site. From there, I retraced my steps to the Higher Shelf Stones trig point, where I spotted a few people sheltering behind the rocks from the wind and rain.
I continued on, down the path off the top of Higher Shelf Stones. Behind me was a trail of walkers - those sheltering had decided to head back down too (& I wondered if they were following me for the way off).
I eventually rejoined the lower section of the Pennine Way, which returned me back to the car. From the point where I rejoined the path, to reaching my car, it had gone from thick clag, to being able to see the top of Higher Shelf Stones from the comfort of my car seat.
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