Day 10. Buxton to Monsal Head.
I say ‘mainly Monsal’, as it takes me, with all my exploring, almost half a day to reach the Monsal Trail.. Slow progress, and be warned, a long post, but hopefully an interesting one.
In Buxton, I had spotted this café the night before and earmarked it for breakfast—a great choice, with perfect scrambled eggs on sourdough.
The walk out of Buxton along the main road is not good, I’m more than pleased to see a footpath into the fields. 
The viaduct is on the defunct Cromford to Whaley Bridge railway line, mentioned yesterday.
On past Staden Farm to the rim of the massive Staden Quarry, where I was hoping to see some climbing action. We used to come here when the sun was hot, as the main wall faces north. Yes, there was a rope at the top, but no sign of the climbers. Barbed wire prevented me from looking down the face. I chat to the farmer and his wife, mainly about cows and calves in the fields. The threat of prosecution from the public weighs heavily on them. 
Onwards through Cowdale and across newly mown fields, a walker is ahead of me, but he goes off in a different direction. 
There is a small church, Christ Church, King Sterndale, by the road. There is a medieval cross in the nearby village, which I regret not visiting. 
Back into the fields, the Midshires Way starts to drop steeply into Deep Dale. It arrives at the base right below Thirst House Cave, and I scramble up to have a look. 
I don’t venture too far into its depths. Roman artefacts have been found here, but it dates far further back, with a bear’s skull.
Deep Dale is a delight, a sunken gorge full of bird song, mainly Jackdaws from the higher crags, and carpeted with flowers. Nobody else about.
The limestone path is uneven in parts, and the summer foliage is encroaching, so slow progress is required.
The end of the valley has been despoiled by an overflow of waste material from the adjacent Topley Pike Quarry. How do they get away with it in a national park?
Escaping the modern industrial devastation, across the A6 at Wyedale, I am on the road leading to the former Midland Railway Line, Manchester to London—the Buxton to Bakewell section, which closed in 1968. As well as passenger transport, this line served the limestone quarries hereabouts. Thirty to forty years ago, we would use stretches of it to reach crags in the valleys. The tunnels were closed at that time; since then, they have been opened and illuminated, and the route has been surfaced, making it suitable for cyclists and mobility vehicles – The Monsal Trail. So I expect it to be busy.
All routes lead to the Blackwell Mill cycle hire depot at the beginning of Cheedale. One is not actually on the railway until then, the bridges you pass under carry the Great Rocks Dale branch of the railway, which still operates to several quarries. This is as far as many people reach, all very pretty, but on a dusty road. This map may clarify the complexities of the initial trail, but there again… 
I meet a man checking, just visually, the bridges. Every few years, they have to do a more detailed rope assessment. A pleasant job on a sunny day like today, we stroll along together.
Anyhow, I’m now on the trail for the next 5 miles, cyclists come whizzing past in both directions. The rest of us just saunter along.
To start with, the railway cuts through the limestone. 
And then along the gorge of Cheedale.
The river is down below the towering crags. Plum Butress is one of the first climbing areas I recognise through the trees. A route called Sirplum goes through the overhangs and ascends the nose. Happy memories of climbing in the sun with my mates, I’ve become distracted in no time. 
The first bridge I cross gives views down to Chee Tor. The bridge man is down there somewhere.
The first tunnel, Rusher Cutting, is only a short one, 111m.
The next one, Chee Tor No.2, is also short, 83m and unlit, but the next Chee Tor is much longer, 367m, and has roof lighting.
Back in the open, there is some excitement at the next bridge. A group of children are being introduced to the delights of abseiling. 40ft to the floor.
A more serene pastime is old-fashioned photography, which involves using a coated glass plate and developing the image on-site with all the necessary chemicals. A lot of equipment to carry about. I wish I had taken note of his details to view his work.
The object he is going to focus on is this limekiln, a 20th-Century concrete structure hiding Victorian kilns. During the C19th the demand for quicklime, used in steelmaking, chemical industries and agriculture, increased. Quarries and lime kilns were developed alongside the railway, coal for burning was transported in and quicklime out.
It’s time for lunch. The cafe at Millers Dale is on the line. I sit inside, out of the sun, surrounded by railway memorabilia and enjoy a quiche and a Bakewell slice.
The additional viaduct, they built two, is being renovated. The river is a long way down here. 
More tall lime kilns appear close by the right-hand side of the trail.
The crowds have thinned out after the cafe at Millers Dale. Cyclists keep appearing on their return trip. 
Down there is Raven Tor, the jewel in the crown of Peak District sport climbing, ie using bolts for protection. In 1982, Ron Fawcett initiated the action with Indecent Exposure, 7c, a multi-pitch route that reached the top of the crag. 1984 Moffatt’s Revelations 8b became the hardest route in the country. 1988 was Martin Atkinson’s Mecca, which at 8b+ was one of the hardest routes in the world. Ben Moon beat Moffatt to Hubble 8c+, the hardest route in the world at the time. In 1998, Steve McClure climbed Mecca Extension, 9a, and quickly followed it with Mutation 9a+, putting the Tor on the world map again. Fancy your chances, it’s even steeper than it looks?
I have time to dally and look at some of the flora lining the trail.
The chimney of Litton Mill can be seen down in the trees. Built in 1787 as a cotton spinning mill, it gained notoriety for exploiting its pauper apprentices. Later, it produced yarn for hosiery and was eventually converted into apartments.
Litton Tunnel, 471m goes through a spur in the hills and emerges overlooking Cressbrook Hall before diving into my last tunnel, Cressbrook 431m. (I will not reach the longest Headstone at 487m).
A bit of a slog up paths brings me to the popular tourist viewpoint at Monsal Head. It is some viewpoint. The Wye Valley is laid out below with the Headstone viaduct prominent in the foreground. 
Monsal Head Hotel lords over the scene. Faded glory on the outside, but luxury in my room, where I was keen to have a shower and freshen up before a meal and a few drinks in the stable bar.
I can watch the sun go down from my boudoir. 
It’s been a long ten miles, but every mile was full of interest. A classic walk.
This is what Ruskin had to say about the valley in 1871.
There was a rocky valley between Buxton and Bakewell, once upon a time, divine as the Vale of Tempe. You enterprised a Railroad through the valley – you blasted its rocks away, heaped thousands of tons of shale into its lovely stream. The valley is gone, and the Gods with it; and now, every fool in Buxton can be in Bakewell in half an hour, and every fool in Bakewell at Buxton; which you think a lucrative process of exchange – you Fools everywhere.
I think we have mellowed since then and have learnt to live with and interpret our industrial heritage.
***
I took delivery before Christmas, just as my cataract operations were scheduled. Bad weather and then my own frailties have meant that it has hardly been touched. Today, I gave it a spin to get used to its handling and motor assistance. Only a short ride to visit a friend in the hills. I have downloaded the app onto my phone, which links to the bike as a form of computer. It didn’t work for me, but I’ll worry about that later. The bike itself was comfortable to ride, well geared, and the electric motor, when needed, was a help on those hills. I will be venturing further in the coming weeks. 
I now realise there was another Mary ‘panel’ at the start of the wall farther back – it gives me an excuse to have another leisurely exploration. 
As I approached the west end of Morecambe I was intrigued by a large building set back from the front. The building now known as The Battery once marked the boundary between Morecambe and Heysham. (in 1928 the two districts merged). In the nineteenth century the site was occupied by an old mill and the area was later used as a firing range, with an artillery battery stationed there because of fear of an invasion by the French. The mill, then known as The Roundhouse, was used for storing ammunition. The Battery Inn was built in 1863 and in 1900 it expanded to become The Battery Hotel, later acquired by Thwaites Brewery and functioned into the 1980s. It has recently been bought by a property developer for conversion into luxury flats. I’m not sure whether much progress has been made.
And what’s more on the other side of the road a series of artistic panels brightening up an otherwise drab development hoarding at the former Frontier Land. I now remember Eunice from the Mouse House mentioning them 
