Yesterday, Day 408, the eighth day of my “sponsored walk” was certainly an integral part of a wet weekend! The bright but cool with showers climate had warmed up, but it rained all day. I did venture out, but not very far. Nevertheless, two miles was better than nothing. I felt fatigued after not having slept too well, and thus, slightly light headed when I ventured out into the rain. But, it was no longer cold, and if I had slept well during the night, I might have been able to walk a respectable distance. I feel as if I made up for it today, however, possibly covering eight miles.
This morning, it was beautifully warm, and a fine afternoon had been forecast. I walked to Church, but returned home by taxi as a walk had been planned for this afternoon. At Church, I found myself allocated the task of operating the sound system, one of my former duties as Churchwarden.
The now regular Sunday walk this week, would precede lunch, booked for 4.30pm. We drove to the Royal Oak where the car was left. It was decided to walk to Dowlow as this part of the Trail would be far less busy than the popular route to Parsley Hay and beyond. Roger joined me for this, my second foray along the old Buxton to Ashbourne line, which last saw regular (if not too frequent) passenger services in 1954. The weather suddenly became cool as clouds obscured the sun. We were in plenty of time for Sunday lunch in the marquee. And as Roger tucked into “Posh Fish and Chips, and I, a magnificent turkey roast, the heavens opened and a very cool wind blew. Nevertheless, Sunday lunch under a well heated canvas was, still, a splendid experience. Although we concluded the meal with coffee, I made a quick pot of tea at home, and after Roger ventured back across the road, I felt inspired to go on another quick walk, one which I had done numerous times, which although is close to home, it still offers spectacular views, particularly when the sun is going down.
I never saw so many sheep with their lambs. The sheep looked statesmanly and disapproving of my presence. The little lambs skipped around quite excitedly, oblivious to their questionable future.
Clever fencing meant that the sheep could not venture on to the long since closed railway, now a walking/cycling route…unlike Network Rail! Soon, I was alone, and heading down towards the Parks Inn. Before making my way home finally, I walked a little way towards Buxton. The view, west, of the glacial valley is one I never tire of.
Many thanks for reading. David, 23.29hrs Sunday May 9th.
David's Cruise 