Hiking in the UK – The Peak District and me
My first memories of the Peak District are as a result of journeys in the family car to Buxton. My Dad had once spent a year or two working in the town back in the 1970s and had struck up a friendship with a family of butchers. Every time our stocks of red meat were low he’d herd us into the Datsun we had at the time and we’d head out of Manchester in the direction of Derbyshire.
Although Buxton and other built-up areas were specifically excluded from the Peak District National Park its proximity to this major tourist attraction has led to it being nicknamed “the gateway”. The roads were winding as the Datsun made it’s way up to 1,000 feet (307m) above sea level. It was especially picturesque in winter time when snow was prone to fall. I used to play a game with my sister over who could pick out quickest the sheep spread out across the whitish hillsides.
My entry into the Peak District proper came during my last year at primary school when my class and a few others spent a week there. What I can vaguely remember is a large house with grounds and daily filling in a notebook, which was a requirement of the trip. We’’ll skip over the hijinks that took place in the house, but which are to be expected when 11 year olds spend a week in each other’s company. On a more wondrous note, I recall how we visited the Blue John Cavern in Castleton where fluorite or fluorspar (otherwise know as Blue John) was mined. You can still see rich seams of it on the walls. Still in Castleton we made our way over to Speedwell Cavern and got on a boat that took us down a permanently flooded cave to a point where we could see further underground features, like the 150m (464ft) deep ‘Bottomless Pit’.
I still have fond memories of all these locations but what had the deepest impact on me was the hiking we did. It instigated a passion that I’ve held to this day. Before that holiday I’d never really enjoyed walking in open spaces. Perhaps it was because I’d spent the majority of my family holidays in Ireland and we were unlucky with the weather. On this occasion though, I was walking underneath beautiful blue skies with a gentle breeze at play. Conditions were ripe for walking along the Park’s various paths, such as the Tissington Trail and High Peak Trail. I remember our teachers telling us the evocative names of the various hillsides and when in view of them pointing them out us, such as Mam Tor, Featherbed Top, and Kinder Scout. I remember drawing sketches of the undulating landscape in my notebook and jotting down the animals and plants we were coming across daily.
National Parks like the Peak District are important to hikers and should not be taken lightly.
We shouldn’t forget that the Peak District played a pivotal role in fully establishing the rambling movement in the UK, as a result of the mass trespass of Kinder Scout in 1932. The five arrests that resulted from scuffles with the private landowners’ gamekeepers helped raise the ramblers’ profile. Although it didn’t happen overnight the trespass contributed to the successful campaign for national parks. This was finally achieved in 1951 when the Peak District National Park became the first one. All this reminiscing has got me in the mood to tread the Tissington trail once more…
