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The Inn Way to the Lake District, England – Part 3

Day 3 – Braithwaite to Buttermere – 11 miles (17.7km) – 5 hours

The good news today is that it didn’t rain. It did think about it a couple of times, but the waterworks never eventuated. I was thankful, as my boots had struggled to fully dry during both of the previous nights, even in the hostel’s dry rooms. And, on another positive note, today will be the shortest and easiest day of this hike.

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My overnight hotel had a late check-out, but I still managed to get away at 10. I walked though the village and found a place to buy a sandwich for lunch. Then, 100m out of the town I found the trail and headed out along it. At a suitable point, not far along the path, I stopped and looked back to Braithwaite.

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The trail was thin with brambles and thorn bushes on either side, but I came away unscratched. After some time the thin path met a road that followed the valley around to the right following Coledale Beck.

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One part of hiking I enjoy is the mystery of what I find along the way and as I followed the road around I was met with Force Crag at the end of the valley. The thought that crossed my mind was, ‘I have to climb that?’

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Things at a distance always look worse than they really are and as I got closer to the valley’s end, I could see the trail leading up the hill beside it. It still looked rather thin and precarious, but again, things appear worse from a distance.

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To follow the trail, I had to cross the river on stepping-stones, before climbing the hill, which I found easier than I had expected. While it had looked thin from a distance, you could have driven a 4×4 vehicle up the rocky trail. At the top, I looked back along the valley.

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And once at the top, the trail continues up the hill beyond, zigzagging to the top of the pass between Sand Hill and Crag Hill.

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A series of people came over the top as I climbed, and one guy told me it was very windy at the top. I took heed and near the top put my jacket on. I wear my coat backwards unless it’s raining heavily. This is to mainly protect against the wind and keep me warm, while not adding to the sweat running down my back. And, should I get too warm, I can pull my arms out without losing the wind protection at the front.

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When I got to the top, it was indeed very windy. I looked down the other side and could see Liza Beck as it made its way along Gasgale Gill. I followed the trail down, fighting against the wind as I went.

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The trail was not an easy walk, at many places was covered in slate, and with parts that had slipped away. While I was not very high above the stream, at many places I was still forced to hang on to whatever I could just to get past.

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Two-thirds of the way down Loweswater and the peak beyond came into view. Finally, I exited the valley and came out on green paddocks. I crossed a major road and followed a trail through a small wood. I came out at a carpark at the other end and followed the road for a short distance to Loweswater village, where there’s an inn.

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The sky decided it might be a good time to rain, so I stopped for a break and a cider. By the time I’d finished, the sun was out again, so I wasted little time heading off again. Across the valley, I could see the Gill I had come from beginning to look menaced by clouds.

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Ahead of me, Crummock Water came into view as I came over a small hill. The trail cut along the base of a ridge line, although the path itself was straightforward to follow and not particularly difficult.

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Towards the end, I passed the Low Long Crag that jutted out into the lake, a mini peninsula with a beach on each side.

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Not long after I arrived at Buttermere village and spent some time wandering around trying to find the YHA. When I got there, I found I could not check in until 5, so I headed back down into the village for a cider.

The Lone Trail Wanderer

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The Inn Way to the Lake District, England – Part 1

Day 1 – Ambleside to Rosthwaite – 13 miles (21km) – 8 hours

There is only one word that can describe today, drizzle. This was the forecast for the day, and that’s it turned out. While I’ve had spells of rain on other hikes, such as when I climbed Snowdon, today it rained all day. This constant wetness put some of my gear to the test, but I’m glad I invested in dry bags, as my pack cover did a fairly average job at keeping things in my pack dry.

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I left my accommodation late this morning, my packing taking longer than I had hoped. When I did get away, there was already a slight drizzle. The YHA Ambleside is a kilometre from central Ambleside, and this added extra distance to the day. When I got into town, I found more adventure stores than I could count. I stopped at the local Tesco to pick up some zip lock bags to protect my phone, then I headed north following a major road. After a while, I was led across Rydal Park and with some of the fells just beginning to be covered in clouds.

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At the far end of the park is Rydal, a quaint little village that I swept quickly through. I followed a stony trail, gently gaining altitude as I climbed around a hill called Nab Scar. To my left, I began to see Rydal Water coming more into view, with Heron Island in the centre.

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The trail continued to ascend slowly, passing the occasional cottage. The path then cut north and began to climb towards Alcock Tarn, a small mountain lake. As I got higher, I looked down onto Grasmere Lake.

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Alongside the lake near the village of Town End there was a gathering of some kind, a race day perhaps, based on the voices coming off the PA system.

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In the weather, my GPS tracker seemed on the fritz, so I followed the map as best as I could in the weather. At one point, as I climbed, I could hear the baying of dogs from above. I stopped, and more than a dozen dogs, all of the same breed, came screaming down the hill, leaping the trail as it went. I am not sure where they were going, but they were going there in a hurry. After some time and much climbing, I eventually make it to Alcock Tarn.

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While the climb was fairly steep, the descent was worse as the stones were slippery. This forced me to take my time as I made my way down. After a time I eventually came down into the township of Grassmere. Like Ambleside, it was bloated with tourists, with many cafes and other places tourists like to go. It is, after all, school holidays and a bank holiday weekend.

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As I passed through Grassmere, I came across a paddock filled with black sheep. I had seen the occasional black sheep during my many walks in England, but this one paddock looked like something had gone wrong. A sheep death march or something.

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At the other side of the village, I crossed a footbridge over Basedale Beck and out onto a path made from large cobbles. In the distance, I got my first sight of where another Beck came down out of the hills.

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I cross some paddocks, and then followed a trail along a stonewall under Jackdaw Crag, again the Beck coming down out of the hills was visible in the distance.

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The climb was long and somewhat arduous, but in the ever-present rain, I slogged on, my little umbrella doing wonders. I climbed higher up Far Easedale Gill, the rain coming harder and the hills around me disappearing into the mist. I pushed on unable to see how much further I had to go. When I got to the top, it was a brief flat area before I began climbing Greenup Edge. In the rain, it was not difficult, only long. Eventually, I did get to the top to a long plateau of boggy ground.

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It was here I got a little lost, my GPS was working, but in the mist, I could not find the correct trail. I followed the path ahead of me, but the squelching of my boots that were by now completely filled with water was not fun.

I did eventually find the trail and found that there was a series of cairns set up by previous walkers. As I walked, I heard a shout and looked up to see five people rushing towards me, so I stopped. When they arrived, they were very pleased to see me. It seems, they had been lost for a couple of hours in the mist, and I was the first person they had seen. Thankfully, I was on the correct trail and gave them some advice on how to get to Grassmere.

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At the top of a crag, I looked down the Greenup Gill. As I began my descent into the valley, I noticed someone climbing towards me. When he arrived, I stopped for a chat. It was a South African guy who had lived in New Zealand for several years. I gave him the same ‘follow the cairns’ advice I had given the previous group, and he set off again. The wind had picked up, so I put down my umbrella and for the first time in the day, took out my walking poles. Slippery stones are dangerous, and I did not wish to hurt myself on my first day of seven.

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The Stonethwaite Beck was running fast due to recent rain. I crossed on a footbridge where another river joined it, crossed that second river and followed a stony road around past a cottage.

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After another kilometre, and passing through Stonethwaite, I finally arrived at my accommodation for the night. A long hard walk in the rain, but that’s what you sometimes get, at least it was not as bad as it could have been.

The Lone Trail Wanderer

Snowdon and the Ranger Trail – Snowdonia National Park, Wales

Snowdon is the tallest mountain in Wales and of all the British Isles south of Scotland. At 1085m above sea level, it’s not really that tall, but with the sharp ridges leading to it having claimed many deaths over the years, its height is nothing to be scoffed at. However, while there are dangerous routes up it, there is also a tourist route directly from Llanberis, which is why it is a popular climb. So, today I will be climbing it with 35+ people from my Meetup.com group, plus, no doubt many others thinking of doing the same.

When I woke this morning it was raining, Murphy’s Law considering the UK has had pristine weather for the past two months.

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After breakfast, we all congregated outside in the cold preparing mentally for the climb ahead. And once we were ready, we began up the road I had come down the day before. This allowed me to get a morning shot of Moel Eilio, the main peak from yesterday’s hike.

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With a group this size, hiking becomes more of a social event, but I knew that would be the case before I signed up. With the wind buffeting us already, we continued to a gate on the side of the road and headed out across the slightly soggy grassy fields heading towards where the Snowdon train line meets its first stop. Ahead of us, Snowdon was ominously obscured by clouds.

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Once across the tracks, we climbed up the Llanberis Trail, the tourist route mentioned earlier. This trail is wide and is mainly laid with large flat stones or shale rock. And, it is what I call ‘Disneyland’ when looking up (or down) the trail lines of people can be seen climbing as if they were waiting in line for a ride. Here, looking back along the trail after a brief rain, with the Czech girl who would become my hiking partner for the day.

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The climb was not difficult, with a steady climb from the beginning which can be progressed with a plodding walk. We fought the elements the entire time, with the wind gusting into our faces. We plugged away in our little groups along the trail, passing people both climbing and returning, including three walkers ‘driving’ RC 4x4s along the trail. We stopped briefly at Halfway House, a cafe at the midpoint of the walk, but it quickly grew cold, so we pushed on.

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The next stage of the climb was more difficult, it began to rain briefly but thankfully not for long. The wind, however, seemed to pick up, tearing at our clothing, but we plodded on. People came and went from my small group, but my Czech walking partner and I kept pace. The climb grew steeper and colder as we went, but we pushed on at speed, the cold and howling wind winning over our slowly tiring legs. We pushed up past Clogwyn Station, the last train station before Summit Station, and looked out along a flat area with the small lake of Llyn Du r Arddu just hidden from our view.

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The wind picked up again as did the steepness, and at one point, the Czech girl, another girl and I formed a human chain so as not to be torn from the mountain. We pushed on and finally gained the top of the steep section, and under a thin train bridge. On the other side, there was some respite from the wind and good views along a valley called Cwm Glas Bach before the cold pushed us to continue. 1800m to go.

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The grade became the steepest it had been, clouds began flowing over us giving everything a foggy look. We pushed on, with great gusts of wind flowing over us and we were forced to stop each time we felt the large blast coming. The steepness gave up a little, and the trail flattened out, but the wind seemed to grow stronger. We trudged on as we reached 1000m above sea level and the trail continued between a set of ragged rocks and the train tracks. The wind was at torturous levels, and deep in the cloud, with no idea how much further the trail went, it felt like we were walking forever. We struggled on for the last few hundred metres and finally arrived at the summit. The last couple of metres of a climb to the very top, we virtually crawled these last couple of steps, I hung onto my Czech companion to ensure she did not fly away.

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Near the top is the Summit Station with a cafe and gift store. When we entered, we found nearly a hundred people crammed inside the large area with an enormous window looking out to one side of the summit. We found a place to stand and ate the lunch the hostel had provided us. But as it was freezing even in the crowded room, we did not stay long and decided to head down again.

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There are several ways down the mountain, and my walking partner and I decided to split from the group and follow the Ranger’s Trail. This cut beneath a range called the Clogwyn Coch and above the Lyyn Fyynnon-y-gwas reservoir. The trail led us down a rocky trail with the wind dragging us sideways, zig-zagging down towards this reservoir. There were fewer people on the path, so it felt more like being in the wilderness, and as we got to the bottom of the valley, the wind subsided, and we stopped for a rest.

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For the next 2km, we walked along a flat trail in this beautiful setting, with few people, until we came to the trail I had walked along at the end of my hike yesterday. Then for the final 4km back to the hostel, we saw no-one. This allowed us to have a long chat about things while enjoying the remainder of the walk, and to top it off, the sun finally emerged from the clouds.

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Overall, while it felt like a ‘Disneyland’ of a walk, it was still a hard slog all the way to the top, battling against the wind and occasional icy rain. Descending was easier and with good company, friendly conversation and amazing scenery, we arrived back at the hostel ready for showers and a relax.

Tomorrow, it’s back to London on the train.

Moel Eilio – Snowdonia National Park, Wales

This morning I packed up the little room I’d been staying in at Bangor University and headed for the bus stop for the  45 minutes ride to Llanberis (pronounced Clanberis). But I was late for the direct bus, so ended up finding an alternative route via Caernarfon. I arrived in Llanberis to find a classic adventure town with many adventure stores, pubs and cafes. I stopped off for lunch and read up on the today’s hike – Moel Eilio.

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After a coffee, I headed out and up a road near the hostel I’d be staying at later that evening. I followed a road up to the left and after a short climb stopped to take a photo of Snowdon, covered in clouds on the centre right of the below photo.

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The road ended at a series of ruined stone houses. I climbed a ladder-stile and heading up into grassy fields with small groups of sheep. I walked along a vehicle track, called Bwlch y Groes, as it rose towards some disused quarries. From here there are great views down on Lyn Padarn (the lake beside Llanberis), the adventure town hidden by the small mound of Ty n y Mynydd. You have to love these Welsh names.

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Near here there was once an old Iron Age settlement and a hill fort, but little remained of either. The other end of Lyn Padarn.

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I then peered at the peak of Moel Eilio up ahead, still a decent climb away and plodded on.

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From a distance, Moel Eilio does not look very steep, but as I grew closer, the main peak pushed up ahead. I stopped at the base for a brief rest and saw the only other walker I had seen so far. I began the steep climb, pausing here and there for a quick breather before continuing. About halfway up the steep climb, it started to rain. This pushed me to get to the top as quickly as I could, which was now covered in low clouds. When I got to the top, the rain was coming harder, and I found a stone shelter similar to that which I had seen at the top of the Drum the day before, although the walls of this one were taller. As the rain seemed to be blown across the top of Moel Eilio, when I ducked into the roofless shelter, I was fairly well protected from it.

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I sat for a while to wait out the rain and to rest. But when it didn’t seem ready to stop anytime soon, I decided to push on and hope at lower altitudes it would clear up. In the mist, I followed the trail to the edge of the peak and down the other side. It did not take long to come out of the cloud and to see the path crossing more hills ahead, one unnamed and two others, Foel Gron and Foel Goch, in the distance.

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As I climbed down, off to my right, I could see the Menai Straight splitting the island of Anglesea from the Welsh mainland, its mouth opening into the Irish Sea.

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Then from the top of the unnamed hill, I got a better look along the valley to Llanberis and Llyn Padarn, with the smaller Llyn Dwythwch at the base of the hills. I continued on up Foel Gron, a fair climb but nothing too strenuous.

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At the top, I could see down the other side of the range to Llyn Cwellyn reservoir and the small mountains on the other side.

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The final climb up Foel Goch gave great retrospective views across at Moel Eilio, now no longer covered in cloud.

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The trail then cut steeply down a trail to the fairly pronounced Ranger Trail. I made my way deftly down the steep hill to eventually arrive at the Ranger Trail where I passed a French man who was heading to Llanberis.

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I followed the trail for four kilometres along the side of the valley. But after ten minutes or so, it began to rain. So, on went, the pack cover and I marched on to finally arrive soaked and ready for a shower.

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Other than the two spots of rain during the walk, the Moel Eilio could be described as a hidden gem. It is not as high as many of the mountain walks around it, but still had plenty of excellent views, began and finished at Llanberis, and was mostly empty, with tourists opting for the larger Snowdon nearby.

After a shower, I drank a refreshing cider. Then once more of my group arrived, we headed down into Llanberis for dinner and a few more drinks.

Tomorrow, we hit up the big one. Snowdon.

Aber Falls and Drum – Snowdonia National Park, Wales

This week I am in Snowdonia National Park, Northern Wales. But, instead of doing a grand circuit, as I usually do, I have three separate day-walks at the northern end of the national park.

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Today, I merged two smaller walks into one longer one to give me a full day of walking.

Aber Falls – 3 miles / 4.8 km

The first walk of the day, to the Aber Falls, is probably one of the easier walks in Snowdonia. It is also a popular tourist walk, so I was expecting plenty of families.

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I headed out from the cafe in the brilliant midday sun, along a short path to a road and on the small village roads for about a kilometre to the Aber Falls carpark. As I had expected, the carpark was full, and from what I could tell, there was another carpark nearby which was the same. As my goal is to get away from people and get into the wilderness, I quick marched along the wide shingle and dirt trail, passing picnic benches and groups of families hanging out in the sun.

With temperatures in the high 30s back in London, I was glad it was cooler up here, although it was still set to be a scorcher of a day in the mid-20s. I marched quickly along the trail passing through small clumps of trees on a path that rose gently yet remained flat enough for wheelchairs.

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After another kilometre and a half, I finally climbed a rise and saw the thin ribbon waterfall. It has been hot and dry for many weeks here in the UK, so the waterfall was less than it should be.

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I walked on for several minutes until I came to the base of the falls. Groups of people sat along the stream leading away from the falls, enjoying the weather and cool water. When I got to the base, I climbed to the far side for a closer look. Unfortunately, because the sun was right above the cliffs, it was impossible to get a good photo of the entire waterfall.

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Then after a few minutes rest in the shade, I quick marched my way back along the trail, stopping to chat briefly to an older gentleman in a mobility scooter before arriving back at the car park.

Drum and Llyn Anafon – 6.75 miles / 10.7km

From the Aber Falls car park, I walked along a sometimes steep thin road for 2 km until I came to another carpark, this one empty. An empty car park is a good sign, there will be few people on the trail. I rested for lunch on a large rock in the sun as there was no shelter. Above me was the colourful peak of Foel Dduartl, my return trail obvious across its front.

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I climbed a rocky trail for several hundred metres towards a set of power lines and a rock fence. I cut right at the North Wales Path and followed the power lines steadily uphill. The peaks of Foel Dduartl and Foel Ganol to my right were emblazoned with autumn colours even though it felt most decidedly summer.

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The path continued steadily uphill for more than a kilometre under the power lines. If it were not for those power lines, it would feel decidedly wilderness. Close enough for me.

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Off to my left, as I climbed, the Irish Sea in all its blueness.

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After 2km, I turned right onto a wide and easy trail that again continued the long climb this time fairly directly to Drum (pronounced Drim) in the distance. Here I passed the only other walker I would see on this trail. I headed further on the trail as it grew steeper but nothing too strenuous, the sun beating down on me as I walked. To my right, the Llyn Anafon reservoir.

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While an open sky is excellent for views, the sun is not your friend on a summer hike. The direct sunlight can be draining, and today was no exception. As I neared the summit of Drum, the trail grew steeper, and I had to push myself step after step to climb higher. Eventually, I made it to the top and stared back at the valley below, the Irish Sea beyond.

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I crossed a ladder stile and took in the view from the other side of Drum down to the sea.

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At the top is a round cairn shelter, although it didn’t look like a pleasant place to sit in the heat. So I found a soft grassy patch on the far side and lay down for a ten-minute nap.

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When I got up again, I was besieged by a horde of flies which seemed to buzz around behind me. I flapped them away as best I could, but they kept returning. So, I donned my pack and hat, crossed the ladder stile and headed off.

The initial part of my return hike did not actually follow a trail down the hill, but simply struck off down towards Llyn Anafon reservoir, aiming for the broad service track. Thankfully from the dry weather, the ground was not soggy. I edged my way down the side of the hill for several hundred metres, zigzagging back and forth to avoid sheep until I eventually arrived at the lake.

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My descent from there was fairly steady, following the outlet of the reservoir – Afon Anafon – beneath the peaks I had climbed on the way up. The colours still stood out as I went, almost fading from deep green to the autumn colours as I headed towards the base of Foel Dduartl.

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And then it was onto the blue of the Irish Sea again as I rounded the base of the peak and returned to the empty carpark. I stopped for a brief rest before marching the 3km back to the bus stop at Abergwyngregyn. Then it was back to Bangor, where I made my way to the local Wetherspoons for a well-deserved cider.

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Overall, the Aber Falls and Drum were a good pair of walks to add together on a sun-drenched day. Tomorrow, I head by bus to Llanberis and do a smaller local circuit before my group arrives to climb Snowdon.

The Inn Way to the Peak District, England – Part 4

Day 6 – Castleton to Hayfield – 11.5 miles (18.5 km) – 5 hours

The last day of the hike has the shortest distance but is the hardest with the most climbing. Unlike yesterday, the forecast today was for rain. But it’s England, and the Peak District, so I left my accommodation expecting the worst.

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Castleton is known for the remains of Peveril Castle on the hill, not to mention an extensive cave system in the peaks around it. I could see the castle high on the hill from the Main Street.

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I headed up the hill beside the castle on a rocky path and began a long slow climb with sheep and lambs bleating at me as I passed. As I came around behind the castle, I could see its back above me as I climbed. It was built to keep the townsfolk in check but was abandoned as it proved to be unnecessary.

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On either side of the trail are small caves, but I didn’t stop to investigate. The path continued to the top of the hill between stone walls and eventually emerged onto a plateau, sectioned off for farming. I passed through a gate and it began to spit. I pulled out my pack cover but didn’t bother with a jacket, no point sweating even more than I currently do. Thankfully, the rain did not come, and the spitting subsided.

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After a fair walk, I came to a junction where a thin road headed off to the north. My trail followed this road for about a mile, past a farmhouse, to a major road. On the far side, I could see where the trail was leading me, to the top of a Tor. It would be a fair climb, and by the number of people climbing it, a popular tourist spot.

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The climb to the tourist carpark looked to be steeper than the actual climb up the Tor, but hiking is not about doing things the easy way. I climbed to the carpark and then on up the side of the Tor, which had been paved for ‘easy’ walking. When walking for distance, I find it easier to walk on the soft ground beside the steps as it uses less energy. At the top of Mam Tor there are great views down both sides, but because of the cloudy haze about, it is difficult to get a clear shot.

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On the far side of the Tor the trail continued up to another pair of peaks, but I wasn’t to climb either of these. Partway up the first was Hatton Cross, which is more of a knob, marking where I would begin my descent from the peak on a rocky trail.

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The trail eventually passed alongside a farm, crossing grazing paddocks with sheep and lambs, until it came to a major road. A few fields after and I arrived at the village of Grindsbrook Booth where I stopped for lunch: a bacon and egg butty, and a coffee. This was when it decided to start raining.

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After my lunch, I struck out in the rain, which wasn’t too heavy and didn’t last long. Grindsbrook Booth, also known as Edale, is the official beginning point of the 286 mile Pennine Trail, of which I would only be doing a tiny section.

I climbed a hill at pace, the caffeine from lunch pushing my on with vigour. I soon overtook several other walkers, with others coming the other way, to eventually arrive at a tiny village called Upper Booth, and continuing quickly on.

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From the village, the trail climbed steadily up the hill towards Jacob’s Ladder, a set of steps that have been built to ensure a quick climb to the top of the pass. I shot up the steps, passing other walkers, but stopping a couple of time to regain my breath before pushing on.

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I soon crossed the pass, and with the understanding that it was only a handful of miles before the end of the hike, I raced downhill on a stone covered trail.

When the moors ended, and the farm fields began, the trail became less rocky and eventually became a road. I continued to race down the hill to the bottom and climbed the final small hill, a mile from Hayfield, the end of the hike. I then raced along the trail, my legs aching, until I hit the roads of Hayfield.

With the end of the hike nigh, I crossed through the streets of Hayfield to my beginning point, The Kinder Lodge and finally took off my boots for the final time on the hike. I celebrated with a meal at the local Italian restaurant, and several ciders.

The next day I was off and back to London, returning to normal life after my time in the Midlands.

Overall Thoughts

I enjoyed my time in the Peak District National Park. I expected the weather to be changeable but got a couple of lovely days and very little rain. I did have a small expectation that things would be a little more difficult and that it would feel a little wilder. There were periods during a couple of the days where I felt like I was away from other people and in the wilds. But this is England, and you have to take what you can get. Perhaps the further north I push for hikes, the wilder it will feel.

Next, I am off to Northern Wales into Snowdonia to do several days of walking, this time not in a circuit. During that time I will be summiting Mt Snowdon.

The Inn Way was a well-prepared hike, and I am glad I found it. While there were plenty of pubs along the way, that wasn’t the point of the walk. I would recommend checking out the website www.innway.co.uk for this and other books in the Inn Way series.

Until next time,

The Lone Trail Wanderer

The Inn Way to the Peak District, England – Part 3

Day 4 – Youlgrave to Tideswell – 16 miles (25.5 km) – 8 hours

I had worried during the night about an infection in one particular blister and went to see a nurse to check it out. If it was indeed infected, I might have to cancel the rest of the hike, but it turned out to be just a painful, annoyingly located, blister nothing more. So, I packed my gear and set out from the hostel, ignoring the pain.

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I headed down the very steep roads of Youlgrave to the river, and followed it on a dirt path, past a small footbridge and several fields.

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I eventually came to a vehicle bridge across to Alport but did not cross. I continued alongside the River Lathkill crossing fields, for about a mile before coming to the Conksbury Bridge. I stopped and looked down the river where masses of flies buzzed about. In the water, a single fish preyed on those that got too close.

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I crossed the bridge and entered Lathkill Dale, a three-mile stretch of trail along the river. I passed many other walkers, most who had come only to walk the dale. I walked with the thin river to my left, with views of weirs along the way.

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To my right side for much of the dale was a rocky bank often covered with bush, but from time to time a small path would lead to a cave entrance in the rock. While I had a head torch with me, there were too many to investigate and my day was set to be long enough. About halfway along the dale, a wooden bridge crossed the river to a ruined house.

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I decided to investigate and found a large hole behind the building with a ladder leading down. So, I climbed down for a look and found a short tunnel leading to a five-metre deep rocky hole beneath the house itself. Beside it a small hand generator to turn on the lights.

Back up along the river, I continued my walk along a mixture of concrete paths, dirt trail and rocky path. Towards the end of the dale, it forked, with the trail heading along the other fork from the river. The trail led up between two ridges, crossing rough rocky ground until it emerged near a road.

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I stopped for lunch before continuing around into Monyash, a small village. Then my trail led up a road and across grazing fields before coming to the Magpie lead mine, which has not been used for many decades.

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After a brief look around, I continued on to the small town of Sheldon. I then crossed more fields for more than half a mile before heading downhill in Great Shacklow Wood.

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I rarely use my hiking poles, but I pulled one out to help my stability on the steepest descent so far of the hike.

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At the base, I forded a river and followed a dirt trail through the forest for near a mile around a right bend to a weir, which I crossed at a metal bridge. The path then ran up the side of the hill, while not steep, it was a constant climb to emerge at Monsal Head and great views along the valley.

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The trail headed down steeply again on the other side, to the old Monsal rail line, where the railway has now been all but removed.

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The trail followed a hard road for a couple of miles, and through two old train tunnels, the Cressbrook and Litton tunnels.

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After the second tunnel, I crossed the river at Litton Mill.

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I made my way around and up Tideswell Dale for a mile and a half before coming to a road. The trail crossed and pushed me up a hill. With only a few hundred metres to go on a long day’s hike, who’s idea was it to climb a steep hill behind a farm? I eventually came into the Tideswell, exhausted, and began looking for my Airbnb.

Footsore and with the painful blisters, I did not feel like wandering too far for food, so I found a local chippy around the corner and a Co-op to get some cider, before settling in for a long sleep.

Day 5 – Tideswell to Castleton – 14 miles (22.5 km) – 6.5 hours

After a 10 hour sleep, and an excellent breakfast at my Airbnb, I headed out of Tideswell along Church Lane which headed over a hill. It was nothing too extreme and got my blood going as the wind was a little chilly.

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I made it into Litton, just another tiny village dotted on the landscape. I found the trail on the far side and cut across a field with a group of seven people stopped ahead of me. They were all teenage girls; I wished them a good morning and continued walking. A few minutes later, I came upon a group of seven teenage boys and wished them the same. I headed quickly downhill into a gully called Tansley Dale, following a dirt path.

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With the boys following behind, I walked on quickly towards the bottom. The gully was part of Cressbrook Dale I had walked beside yesterday. At the bottom, I turned left and headed along the base of the dale between two ridges. I followed it around to the right and began to rise. The lads likely went the other direction, but I could hear the girls, who were walking at the top of the left-hand ridge.

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The gully eventually rose out of the dale to a road near a village, Wardlow Mires. I walked through and found the path headed between farm buildings, the smell was just foul, I don’t know how farmers do it. I then headed up the hill across grazing fields towards a Manor House.

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I passed the manor and walked along a lane for a couple of hundred metres before crossing a grazing field with sheep and lambs. I crossed many more fields until I came to Foolow, apparently the Peak District’s prettiest village, where I stopped outside the pub for a five-minute sit-down.

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After crossing a further 17 fields, mostly empty, but some with the obligatory sheep and lambs, I came to Eyam. This village has a sombre story behind it. It was struck by the plague in the 17th century but quarantined itself so as not to spread the disease. 260 died, but the plague did not get out.

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After Eyam, the trail climbed a very steep road, through a less steep field and into a small wood where the even steeper path finally levelled out. As I emerged from the wood, I discovered the sun had come out, and it would stay out for the rest of the day.

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I crossed several more fields before the landscape changed from grassy paddocks to scraggy moors. I climbed to the summit of a short hill and then down the other side following a winding trail that cut around the edge of a steep hill following a stone wall. It eventually dove down into a gully, across a stream and into a clough – a small gorge – where I followed a trail to the end, climbing out of it to the village of Abney.

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From Abney, I followed a thin concrete road for half a mile to a sandy, gravel road for a further two miles to the village of Brough.

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From here I followed the trail across many grazing fields, containing cows and their calves, sheep and their lambs, a goat and even llama! I passed the village of Hope before arriving at Castleton, the end point of the day.