Mam Tor Saturday
Having reviewed Duncan's projected Saturday walk in the Peak District, I considered that the distance, terrain – and indeed the weather conditions (there had been considerable snow-fall days earlier) – added up to the likelihood of a walk that I might be able to manage – but with difficulty!
I opted instead to go on a 5-or-so mile walk that Ann had looked up, taking in Mam Tor. On setting out from Losehill Hall Youth Hostel, the weather was perfectly fine for walking – not quite summer but surely up to a Peak District Spring? It was an easy stroll through Castleton – pausing for some to pick up provisions – for the five of us that set out, and through a narrow lytchett onto fields and across stiles through sheep-farming country, wending gradually upwards towards the highest peak in the immediate district – Mam Tor.
Mam Tor is known as the Shivering Mountain, and we were to find out why a little later. Suffice it to say, it is really nothing to do with the cold. The name Mam Tor can be re-interpreted as Mother(s) Hill: mam as in mammary or breast-shaped. This is common moniker for certain shaped hills throughout the world. The Paps of Jura are good examples! One wonders if the Bronze Age settlement that crowns the summit was placed there for some reason associated with this – or perhaps it was just a nice place to live with a good view? Certainly any Bronze Age dwellers would have had quite a trek down from their penthouse to catch the bus to work each day.
We left the footpaths through a lovely little wooded area, complete, of course, with a busy stream supplemented by melt-water. Here was Odin's Mine – thought to be the oldest mine in Britain, and adjacent to it was the road up from Castleton. The walk-sheet suggested we stick to the road, which we did, although vehicles were prohibited from going any further. After five minutes or so of realising just how much difficulty a car would have negotiating a very uneven road-surface, we reached a gated fence across the road. The surface appeared rougher still beyond, although from where we were standing we could see a steady stream of people already ascending and descending the edge of the mountain to the summit. The apparent steepness of the ascent seemed to throw the rest of our small party, and a decision was made to turn back! I was a bit dismayed, for although steep, there was no indication that it was difficult!
View from Mam TorI elected to go on myself – albeit feeling a bit let down – and started through the gate. Almost immediately the real effects of the land-slip that had closed this once busy pass became apparent, The road surface was corrugated and buckled and in some places had dropped many feet, or slipped off the edge altogether. Easy enough, however, to walk and even possibly to bike - but not to motor! The road regained its integrity in just a few hundred yards, and cars were parked alongside it enabling visits to the Blue John Mine or onto Mam Tor.
The way up was steep, but in places was even paved and stepped, so apart from sludging through a bit of snow was easy enough. From the top there is a 360 degree view and the conditions were clear enough to enjoy it. A paved track continued eastwards from the summit towards Hollins Cross, with the continuing stream of dogs and their walkers - many carrying huge rucksacks full of children - coming and going. At Hollins Cross a great network of paths converge, for this was a pass for people travelling to work in Edale from Castleton and the Hope Valley – daily! Those people must've had sure-grip feet, for I was very trepidatious making my way down a mix of paved, bouldered, streamed, muddied and gullied hill-side towards Castleton.
Eventually exiting onto a tarmacked farm track, the way to the hostel was relatively short. In fact because a convenient track led to the rear of the hostel, it should have saved the normal access to Losehill Hall which from the main road consists of a third-of-a-mile drive. I could see people in the hostel's car park, hear them chattering and could have shaken hands with them if I'd been inclined – but there was no way in! So – a long walk down the track to the side of the hostel grounds, a few yards along the road, then up the drive to the hostel! It added to the mileage, though - which overall was about 5.5 miles.
I certainly got back before the main group, and was fascinated by their stories of mini-disaster, loss of leader, loss of boots and flights of fancy. I noted that some did not opt to do a walk the following day, and considered that although I ended up walking alone, I had made a sensible choice.
Some thoughts on the weekend's walks
Perhaps we ought to consider people's abilities a bit more when proposing or starting out on a walk. From the feedback that I heard on the main group's experiences, it seemed to me that a number of people had taken on a task that was a bit beyond their capabilities. Either they'd not known what to expect, or perhaps they were a bit out of practice. We'd passed snow drifts whilst driving up to Castleton, and it was quite clear that there was still some accumulation of snow on the higher hills. The fact that the walk started from the Snake Pass - one of the more notorious bad-weather passes in the country - consisted of considerable stretches of high ground (say, 1500ft) and that the snow was melting thus obviously making the going in places wetter, perhaps should have sounded a warning. It is the responsibility of individuals to assess their own capabilities, and of walk-leaders to try to make it clear what the undertaking might be. This may not be so important on low-level walks in the summer, but mountain walks even in Spring are a different matter.
Even the walk the following day was a bit indeterminate. I'd been asked to co-lead it, and from my previous day's experience had a good idea what to expect. However, the walk was presented as "a mystery walk", which on reflection is perhaps a bit too trivial under the circumstances. As it turned out, the 5.5 mile walk on Sunday (from Castleton via Hollins Cross, Back Tor and Lose Hill to Hope village) was undertaken by fairly competent walkers, and was quite easy (even for me!)
Paul Ferris, 10th April 2012