17.0 miles – Tearful grey skies which speak of failed endeavours and hopeless futures, windy, wet, cold
Did I mention in any of my previous posts that I had had enough of flattish, eventless moorland? Well, I set off under those heavy, sorrowful skies, content, knowing that this stretch of it would at least be the last. Then I sat down for breakfast. And then it started to rain.
To be fair, it didn’t rain all that hard, and in fact, some of the moorland I was treated to thereafter was undulating and actually interesting. I leave you, then, with the final batch of moorland photos.
It only occurred to me to change my route after I had seen the sign for a footpath off to the right. Studying my map, I saw that taking it would cut off a long stretch of boulder-clambering and two steep hills. It was also more in the direction in which I actually wanted to go. I felt real regret at the prospect of missing out Kinder Scout – I must come back another time – but it could make the difference between getting to Burton-upon-Trent in another two days and not, and I had been warned of exceptionally hot weather after that, which I wanted to avoid. So I took it.
The way south was along one of the old drove roads of which I had become so fond. With no more moorland, I felt I had to be a little more discreet about choosing a camping pitch. I eventually found a little sliver of woodland, in a valley and by a stream: beautiful, and hidden from anyone who might wish a hiker to move on.