My rucksack today was rather heavier than previous days due to the amount of food I was carrying, not expecting to be in any towns for some days. Leaving Uttoxeter passing the famous horse racing track, there were more fields to cross, some with cows, one with thigh high grass. I had a little navigational difficulty getting under a busy dual carriageway, fortunately a passing man explained the circuitous way I needed to go. I went by a clay pigeon shooting club, a sports field, and the "JCB Academy" which was housed in one of Joseph Arkwright's old mills, now much restored. Arkwright was a pioneer of the industrial revolution, mechanising textile production. He used water power and I was pleased to see a large Archimedean screw turning beside the building, presumably used to generate power. The path was in fields beside the River Dove at times, moving between Staffordshire and Derbyshire. Another section was in the narrow wooded valley of Ordley Brook. A fine routing among oak and rowan, beech and hazel with bluebells, wild garlic and pink campion bordering the path. Admittedly the path had some deeply muddy patches, but it was worth this difficulty.
After a plough man's lunch at a Swinscoe pub I headed for the entrance to Dove Dale. Queues of cars jammed the road trying to get in the already full car park. As the road was narrow the cars trying to get in were hindering those trying to get out. Beyond the car park, the path and grass beside the river was thronged with many different types of people. Children and their parents were paddling in the water, refreshing on such a hot day. A line of people were crossing the stepping stones, obstructing others trying to cross in the opposite direction. As I crossed I could not help admiring the crinoidal limestone used to make the stepping stones, the fossils enhanced by being wetted, and over the years smoothed by the people's feet.
Dove Dale is narrow with steep wooded slopes, pierced by rocky promontories each side. However by the stepping stones there is an area of flat land where people had spread out blankets to laze in the sun, enjoy a picnic or monitor their children nearby. Higher up the valley, beyond "Lovers Leap", the crowds thinned, but there were still people pushing pushchairs over the rough path.
At the small stone village of Milldale, I turned off and climbed through buttercup strewn fields bounded by dry stone walls, to reach the village of Alstonefield. I had booked and paid for a night at a campsite here but was worried by the lack of any signs. It proved a very discrete campsite, if you had not booked it and received directions you would easily miss it. I am now settled in the pitch specified in my booking confirmation having and am starting to lighten the load of food I have been carrying.
No comments:
Post a Comment