Highs and lows
Jun. 27th, 2011 07:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
livThe landscape around here is very rolling, becoming steeper and craggier as you head east into the Peak District. So when khalinche and I took the Alton Towers bus to our planned hiking spot, we descended into the town centre in the valley of the Trent, then climbed up eastwards with the views becoming more dramatic with each hill we crested. After the bus dropped us off we descended into the Churnet valley.
The area is locally famous for a working steam railway, and we were delighted to find the steam train just setting off from its station as we arrived, blowing smoke and steam and whistling and heading off up the valley chuggety chug. We hiked from the 18th century lime kilns, following old canals, tramways and the remains of tracks used for transporting coal from the mines to the kilns. The route criss-crossed valleys that were almost steep-sided enough to be called gorges, so there was quite a bit of scrambling involved. Which was rewarded by some absolutely magnificent views when we had climbed to the top of the banks streaked with red iron ore and black coal. (I intentionally didn't take a camera as I wanted to enjoy the walk and the company rather than getting distracted with photography, so the links are just images pulled off Flickr.)
We set out in light drizzle (khalinche had a more precise word, cos she comes from a place where they have dozens of words for rain). This made it pleasant to walk in the sense that it was cool without being wet enough to soak us, but unpleasant in the sense that it was very muddy. And in this part of the world, wet ground means literally trekking through sticky clay.
The other problem with the expedition was that I'd planned in it an slightly half-arsed way; it fell somewhere between a leisurely weekend ramble and a serious hike, so bringing lots of equipment felt like overkill. But in fact everything where I was over-prepared worked out well and everything I skimped on came back to bite me. Walking in proper hiking boots left my feet and legs pleasantly tired but not at all painful by the end of the day. Not bothering with a map case meant that our map dissolved in the rain and the section with the instructions we needed for the last mile of the walk fell into the stream. Happilykhalinche was heroic and waded into the stream to rescue it from the bush that kept it from floating away or falling completely to pieces, but still. Bringing a picnic gave us the opportunity to have the most romantic lunch sitting on a tree-trunk looking out over fields of purplish long grasses and a stunning view of the moorlands, as well as greatly perking our spirits up halfway through the walk. Not bothering with a proper ground map meant that we took a wrong turn when the guided walk leaflet wanted us to make a sharp corner that wasn't really based on any obvious landmarks. We detoured probably about mile out of our way and were able to find a road that led us back to the intended trail; there was never any serious danger of getting lost, but I still wish I'd discovered before we set out that the area was just off the eastern edge of my OS map.
Anyway, it was just the right amount of exercise, never reaching the point where it was more a test of endurance than a pleasure. The guided walk was 3½ miles, much of it over fairly awkward though unchallenging terrain, and we added about as much again between the wrong turning and needing to walk from the nearest bus stop to the start of the walk. It was also a perfect opportunity for lots and lots of conversation about everything from books to feminism to countryside politics.
We'd agreed that we should indulge ourselves with takeaway when we got home. This didn't work quite as well as I'd hoped because of the first four options I tried I didn't have menus, or the phone numbers didn't work, or they had no online presence at all.khalinche correctly diagnosed that being tired and hungry was causing me to make far more of a big deal out of these minor obstacles than was warranted, so she packed me off to have a bath while she dealt with ordering pizza from the nearest greasy spoon kebab place. And lo and behold the blood sugar boost transformed the evening from frustrating to delightful, sitting in our pjs eating greasy pizza and cherries and continuing rambling conversations about all kinds of stuff. We have reached a particularly wonderful stage of getting to know each other; it's hard to avoid the clichéd comparison of exploring a new and fascinating landscape!
Sundaykhalinche had to leave early-ish, so I spent the day sitting in the sunshine reading The name of the wind and generally relaxing. This was rather spoiled when one of the insect bites I'd inevitably suffered rather suddenly turned most of my leg into a horrible festering mess Sunday evening. I felt a bit silly about it, but realized I couldn't sleep with my leg in that state, so I took myself to the walk-in clinic on the other side of town. This was new and shiny and pretty quiet of a Sunday evening; the nurse practitioner instantly pronounced that the bite was infected (not just a bad reaction) and had her colleague do some rather unpleasant things to it before bandaging it up, and sending me away with a course of antibiotics. I wasn't so impressed with the nurse who mocked me for having such a low pain threshold, but hey, I think she meant it as a friendly joke to put me at my ease rather than a jibe. Anyway I'm really grateful to live somewhere it's possible to get very rapid treatment for a minor problem that has the potential to turn nasty if not dealt with.
I'd say that the high points of that weekend outweighed the unfortunate stuff, even more than the lovely views justified scrambling up muddy banks to get to them!
khalinche and I took the Alton Towers bus to our planned hiking spot, we descended into the town centre in the valley of the Trent, then climbed up eastwards with the views becoming more dramatic with each hill we crested. After the bus dropped us off we descended into the Churnet valley.The area is locally famous for a working steam railway, and we were delighted to find the steam train just setting off from its station as we arrived, blowing smoke and steam and whistling and heading off up the valley chuggety chug. We hiked from the 18th century lime kilns, following old canals, tramways and the remains of tracks used for transporting coal from the mines to the kilns. The route criss-crossed valleys that were almost steep-sided enough to be called gorges, so there was quite a bit of scrambling involved. Which was rewarded by some absolutely magnificent views when we had climbed to the top of the banks streaked with red iron ore and black coal. (I intentionally didn't take a camera as I wanted to enjoy the walk and the company rather than getting distracted with photography, so the links are just images pulled off Flickr.)
We set out in light drizzle (
khalinche had a more precise word, cos she comes from a place where they have dozens of words for rain). This made it pleasant to walk in the sense that it was cool without being wet enough to soak us, but unpleasant in the sense that it was very muddy. And in this part of the world, wet ground means literally trekking through sticky clay. The other problem with the expedition was that I'd planned in it an slightly half-arsed way; it fell somewhere between a leisurely weekend ramble and a serious hike, so bringing lots of equipment felt like overkill. But in fact everything where I was over-prepared worked out well and everything I skimped on came back to bite me. Walking in proper hiking boots left my feet and legs pleasantly tired but not at all painful by the end of the day. Not bothering with a map case meant that our map dissolved in the rain and the section with the instructions we needed for the last mile of the walk fell into the stream. Happily
khalinche was heroic and waded into the stream to rescue it from the bush that kept it from floating away or falling completely to pieces, but still. Bringing a picnic gave us the opportunity to have the most romantic lunch sitting on a tree-trunk looking out over fields of purplish long grasses and a stunning view of the moorlands, as well as greatly perking our spirits up halfway through the walk. Not bothering with a proper ground map meant that we took a wrong turn when the guided walk leaflet wanted us to make a sharp corner that wasn't really based on any obvious landmarks. We detoured probably about mile out of our way and were able to find a road that led us back to the intended trail; there was never any serious danger of getting lost, but I still wish I'd discovered before we set out that the area was just off the eastern edge of my OS map. Anyway, it was just the right amount of exercise, never reaching the point where it was more a test of endurance than a pleasure. The guided walk was 3½ miles, much of it over fairly awkward though unchallenging terrain, and we added about as much again between the wrong turning and needing to walk from the nearest bus stop to the start of the walk. It was also a perfect opportunity for lots and lots of conversation about everything from books to feminism to countryside politics.
We'd agreed that we should indulge ourselves with takeaway when we got home. This didn't work quite as well as I'd hoped because of the first four options I tried I didn't have menus, or the phone numbers didn't work, or they had no online presence at all.
khalinche correctly diagnosed that being tired and hungry was causing me to make far more of a big deal out of these minor obstacles than was warranted, so she packed me off to have a bath while she dealt with ordering pizza from the nearest greasy spoon kebab place. And lo and behold the blood sugar boost transformed the evening from frustrating to delightful, sitting in our pjs eating greasy pizza and cherries and continuing rambling conversations about all kinds of stuff. We have reached a particularly wonderful stage of getting to know each other; it's hard to avoid the clichéd comparison of exploring a new and fascinating landscape! Sunday
khalinche had to leave early-ish, so I spent the day sitting in the sunshine reading The name of the wind and generally relaxing. This was rather spoiled when one of the insect bites I'd inevitably suffered rather suddenly turned most of my leg into a horrible festering mess Sunday evening. I felt a bit silly about it, but realized I couldn't sleep with my leg in that state, so I took myself to the walk-in clinic on the other side of town. This was new and shiny and pretty quiet of a Sunday evening; the nurse practitioner instantly pronounced that the bite was infected (not just a bad reaction) and had her colleague do some rather unpleasant things to it before bandaging it up, and sending me away with a course of antibiotics. I wasn't so impressed with the nurse who mocked me for having such a low pain threshold, but hey, I think she meant it as a friendly joke to put me at my ease rather than a jibe. Anyway I'm really grateful to live somewhere it's possible to get very rapid treatment for a minor problem that has the potential to turn nasty if not dealt with. I'd say that the high points of that weekend outweighed the unfortunate stuff, even more than the lovely views justified scrambling up muddy banks to get to them!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-28 11:58 am (UTC)Nice read, too! :)
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Date: 2011-06-28 06:33 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-29 08:16 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-30 09:31 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-07-05 02:17 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-07-05 02:17 pm (UTC)