Two men go for a big walk up four big hills- Part Two.

The second of a four part story about a very long walk up the four highest hills in Peakland in day, from Hunter's Bar and back. So then, onward we go dear readers...

1:10am. Pulling on our heavy rucksacks, clipping the hip-belts, a closing of the door, a turning of the key. The first step onto the pavement. Finally, we were off.

Down past Hunter's Bar, around Endcliffe Park and towards the outskirts. Conversation was little- the weight of the day ahead was heavy on the mind and we were barely awake. Passing by taxis pub and party bound felt seriously strange- most weekends that is me in that taxi, yet here I was doing the opposite. Very quickly a strong feeling of complete detachment from society set in as we walked the rainy streets- cooking, socialising, shopping, sleeping- none of these normal things were relevant now, the only thing in our lives now was walking. And at this moment- walking to Ringinglow. This feeling would persist for the duration of the walk, a beautiful sensation which once tasted becomes a big lure of long-distance walking. It is like meditation, a blissful feeling of freedom and lack of worry as your world is reduced to you, a destination and getting there- nothing else in life matters.

Passing round Endcliffe Park we elected to stick to roads as much as possible to Forge Dam instead of going through the parks- I spent far too much time watching Crimewatch as a kid to do that. Numbness set in, the scale of what we were doing was a just too big to take in. Instead, our minds collectively became focused solely on getting to Fulwood Lane. So on through the drizzle we went until the lane was reached in a sleepy daze. We were out of the city at last- phew! Hardly any emotion flickered on the mind- a brief 'bye bye' to Sheffield and then onward towards Ringinglow Bog.

The crossing to Redmires was memorable, if for the wrong reasons. The drizzle turned into a heavy downpour on Fulwood Lane dampening the spirits- thoughts (and heads) turned back on Sheffield to friends all cosy and dry in the pub. It quickly it stopped, but only for my headtorch to stop working soon after. Bugger. We were barely awake, could hardly see, the track didn't really exist and all we wanted to do was walk to Bleaklow. And that folks, is how two lads end up aimlessly stumbling across Ringinglow Bog at 2:30am on a damp saturday night.

My dying headtorch- useless except for posing for photos like this...

Miraculously we made it to Redmires without getting lost or falling alseep in a bog. Morale lifted as Stanage was crossed non stop to Crow Chin (bar pausing for a photo at Stanage Pole), eerily silent at 3:30am- somehow we made swift progress despite only Dobbo having a headtorch of any use. From Crow Chin to the track on Hordron Edge we had a short section of pathless boggy moorland to cross, made more interesting in that neither of us had been on it. I was in my element- roughly estimating the angle to head off Stanage, noting vegetation and steepness of the slope, the track on Hordron Edge was reached smoothly and without a map or compass. Super happy!

The first stop of the day by the A57

The whole section from the A57 to Lockerbrook was amazing. Views of Win Hill Pike with Ladybower streaked with moonlight, that first rest of the day after 11.75 miles by a deserted A57, seeing first hints of dawn- they were fantastic. We walked in silence by Ladybower in that pre-sunrise light to the sound of waking birds, enjoying a real feeling of calm and peace. We'd just walked through the night to get here, and were now stuck into the walk proper- the next 27 miles and four hills would be the real meat of the day. The moment was perfect. Those 20 minutes by Ladybower under that first dawning light, collecting my thoughts in an aura of tranquility and calm- it is a memory that will remain with me forever.

After a knackering slog up to Lockerbrook, discussions on slowing the pace and resting more were had. We'd somehow raced non-stop to Ladybower, and though pleasantly surprised and in a good position time wise for the day ahead, we needed to slow it down a bit. So we did. Ish.

Different experiences were had on the long boggy walk over Rowlee Pasture, Westend Moor and Westend Knoll to Grains-in-the-Water. Dobbo got quite affected by the lack of sleep and found it quite hard to stay awake and push on- but nothing known to nature can stop Dobbo, so on he went. I experienced something different. Waves of euphoria washed over me- pushing on over the moors and watching sunrise over Back Tor with no-one around, all whilst headed for my favorite place in the world- this was what I wanted, this was exactly what I wanted the walk to be! Those 10 minutes over Rowlee Pasture I so felt alive, awake and energized. I was experiencing perfection.

Dawn.

'Breakfast' at Birchin Hat 

After a much-needed breakfast stop at Birchin Hat consisting of flapjack, pasta and harribo, we pushed on towards Bleaklow and Higher Shelf Stones now visible floating on the horizon. Our minds focused on getting to the summit of Bleaklow- the next major stage in the walk- and we could feel it drawing us in. Both of us uplifted by the first sight of two of the fells we were out to climb. Two mates, two different states of mind, weaving our way over the vast bogs of Westend Moor, arriving at Grains-in-the-Water as a pair of tired and relieved messes.

Bleaklow bound- more moor!

Relieved? Damn right! At last, after 7 hours of walking the first of the four fells was within reach. The going had been tough from Birchin Hat over those wild, enchanting southern moors guarding Bleaklow and we were starting to feel tired. This was soon explained by the realisation that we'd walked the first 20 miles in 7 hours. Ah. Thats why. Right then- 30 mins rest and feeding was called for to celebrate this unexpected achievement. More cold pasta, harribo and water gladly went down the hatch as we sprawled on the grass. Grains-in-the-Water looked magnificent- foreboding and desolate under a snow-laden grey ceiling close enough to touch. I was happy to be cold and shivering in exchange for the privilege of being in such a place.

We were now both feeling strong, we were doing well so far, and Bleaklow's summit was just a short hop away.

It was time to get a fell climbed at last.