A few cold crisp days was enough of an excuse to get away from proofing Trad+, tweaking Northern England and working on Lofoten. Friday was especially nice, myself and DG (Dave Gregory) dumped a car at the Surprise View then drove round to Moscar Top and walked back over Stanage - a gentle seven miler. The day was brilliantly clear but the NE wind had a savage edge to it, mind you it was over our shoulder most of the day, so that was nice!

I took a few photos of the ‘water-holes’ carved in the boulder above the northern end of the cliff - done to provide water for the grouse apparently, over a hundred years ago. It looks like there are 33 of them - they are all numbered, but quite a few are no longer visible, doubtless they have become overgrown. They are beautifully carved with elegant curved channels carrying the water into the central ‘basin’ one day I am going to try and find them all - I might even draw a map!

Heading past Higgar Tor we encountered a couple of folks with five BIG dogs, three Rotweilers and two Alsatians, roaming back and forth, we mentioned the presence of sheep on the moor - but, as ever, they assured us that ‘their’ dogs didn’t chase sheep

Sunday was a bit greyer, but Colin and Mark were down from North Yorkshire, and decided on Burbage North, which as it turned out was a good choice, what with the wind still nagging out of the north west.

I never cease to be amazed how busy the Peak is at weekends, a cold grey day in November and I ended up parking over near Higgar Tor! The climbing was good if a little chilly, certainly way better than being indoors - and the valley was buzzing - walkers, climbers, boulders, bikers - all out making the most of the Sunday.

I watched with dismay as a dog chased sheep down in the valley bottom (so maybe some do!) before heading back to the car, where to my surprise the thermometer showed a chilly 3.5 degrees - amazing we got anything at all done really!

Another weekend, another mid-winter ramble. Dave was back from his short sojourn on Tenerife’s sunny shores, so we mustered at the Robin Hood car park and set off south for Chatsworth and Hob House. A big patch of blue sky blew in from the north west and although the Edge was in deep shade, the bigger buttresses looked surprisingly dry. Mind you, an air temperature of seven degrees meant climbing was only for stalwarts.I thought back to the last time I was there, back in early May when conditions were perfect, Puppet Crack, Pearls, Despot, Vibrio and a few others made for a great day out. We skirted round the small quarries of Dobb Edge, the temptation to have a poke round for ‘last great problems’ was tempered by the fact that I gave the place a good going-over when I wrote up Chatsworth for the BMC some years back.

We stopped briefly at the Hunting Tower, a substantial building with its expansive views out over the estate and inevitable ‘private’ signs. The path loops round the Emperor Lake which feeds the ‘biggest fountain in the UK’ far below. We mulled on the kind of wealth that allowed successive Dukes of Devonshire to construct buildings on a mind-boggling scale, and transform the landscape long before the advent of mechanised earth moving machinery, doubtless with an army of ’slaves’ - or labourers as they were known back then.

A bit of a wander up marshy tracks led through the pine woods until we eventually arrived at a locked gate, the sign on the other side declaring ‘private - keep out’ - hey ho! A quick poke round Hobs Hurst House (an earthwork of unknown date) and lunch using the wall as a wind-break and we headed back towards the car. Glowering clouds and an increasing strong wind with spats of rain kept us on the move, as shafts of sun light up the distant gritstone Edges, there would doubtless be a few teams up there making the most of the remains of the day.

A grey morning but forecast to brighten later sounded just the ticket, and as occasionally happens the Weather Girl got it right. Usual partners were overseas, out of commission or climbing on limestone(!) so I thought I would take my new Nikon 18-200 lens out for a test-drive. I parked and wandered up towards True North, it was wild but exactly what was needed. A solitary boulderer was tackling Mating Toads (V2), blowing his own cobwebs away, as I scrambled up to the trig point and hoovered up some lung-fulls of the west wind.

Along the crest of the crag there were the usual convoys of weekend walkers, as we trooped past each other pleasantries were exchanged in the time-honored fashion. Peering off the edge I spotted a couple of copies of the new Eastern Grit guide being used; daft I know, but it always gives me buzz. A youth was trying to top-out on Right Unconquerable (HVS) though the gale whipping over the edge wasn’t helping as he was enveloped in clouds of chalk at each attempt, I wonder if his ascent should have been classified as wind assisted!

I dropped out of the wind onto the flagged path though the Plantation; it was a different world down there - late November and as mild as a May day, strange indeed. The place wasn’t heaving, but it was certainly BUSY - there were boulderers everywhere! I watch a guy on Tower Face Direct (E2) make very neat ascent and cracked of a bunch of shots, also noticing the chalk on Flight of Ideas (E7), it looked like there had been some daring deeds done recently.

I wandered on down to the road and set of back towards the car. The Edge was quite busy now, and several teams were enjoying the low winter sun shining straight on to the cliff. I mulled over the idea that with the new lens, when Eastern Grit needs a rewrite in five years time, I might be able to get the required crag shots without even getting out of the motor!

Back at the car and time to tootle back down the long hill home, invigorated, mind cleared, I felt a bit more ready for Sunday dinner and the working week. As to the lens, its a bit of a big brute but overall, I’m impressed.

Sunday Nov 19th
Cold and clear, with a biting north westerly, it was a good day for a walk and a chat. Dave Gregory was the usual partner and subjects cover the gammut of saving the planet, the way climbing guidebooks are going, scientific topics galore and of course where the next trip away was to be to. We saw a few folks climbing in the shady depths Millstone (heros!) and the usual teams of boulders swarming over Burbage North, though we decide that keeping on the move was more appropriate in the conditons.
It got me thinking, I assume a large part of the attraction of bouldering is in the camaraderie, the whooping, hollering and back-slapping, though I must admit it doesn’t do a lot for me - I still see the hills as a place for a little solitude and ‘time-out’ even in the ever-busy Peak District!