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Contents : PENNINE WAY       Introduction Day 4 Day 9 Day 14   Prep and Planning Day 5 Day 10 Day 15   Day 1 Day 6 Day 11 Day 16   Day 2 Day 7 Day 12 Day 17   Day 3 Day 8 Day 13 Prep Runs                     THE PENNINE WAY AT ITS BLEAKEST AND MOST DANGEROUS     NATIONAL TRAILS GUIDES UK - DETAILED DESCRIPTIONS & GALLERIES           Day 17 :: Facing my Worst Fear :: Crowden to Edale :: 17 miles           I awoke this morning to a dark and dreary day, and felt at considerable unease.  Opposite to my bed & breakfast accommodation is a church that chimes the time every fifteen minutes.  The accommodation fronts onto the main road and there is also a pub opposite.  It has been very noisy all night and I did not sleep well.  I have been awake since 6 a.m. trying in vain to return to sleep. Today is my last day.  I should feel happy but my stomach is all knotted up.  I realise now why I feel so nervous in the mornings before Rachel leaves me.  It is because I have been left 16 miles or so from my destination, often on an uncertain route.  I am fully committed because unless I can cover the route and do so with exactness, I will not make our rendezvous.  Even after all this time I still lack confidence in myself. I was talking with Rachel last night as though I had as good as finished the run, thinking that today would be easy and not worth dwelling upon.  This was far from true, however, and if only I had known last night what I would experience today I would have spoken far differently.  Every day so far has held an adventure all of its own and today was to be no exception.  I wouldn’t want it otherwise anyway. Of all the days I hoped there would be no mist, it was today.  Part of my route would take me over Bleaklow Head.  I have been there before, not very long ago.  There was mist covering the very top of Bleaklow and I had strayed from the path and become lost.  For more than an hour I could not find my way.  Then, however, the mist was only at the top, and as I left the mist, after about 400 metres I could tell I was not on the correct path and was able to make my way back to my only known reference point, the Wain Stones. I did this possibly a dozen times before I got it right.   It was a scary experience for me and I had no mind to repeat it again.  Bleaklow Head was only a small part of my run today, but it represented a major stumbling block in my mind. I have been teaching the youth in my church to identify their worst fears and to face them.  “That is the way to progress”, I had taught them.  Today it was time for me to face one of my worst fears – navigating in dense mist in a locale I had already been lost in. My route would commence at Torside Reservoir and take me along Clough Edge and Wildboar Grain to Bleaklow Head.  From here I would make my way along Hern Clough and Devil’s Dike to Doctor’s Gate, cross the road over the Snake Pass and then traverse Featherbed Moss to Mill Hill.  I would descend Mill Hill to climb Kinder and then follow Kinder Edge past the Kinder Downfall to Kinder Low and from thence to Jacob’s Ladder, through the Noe Valley to Upper Booth and finally to Edale, where my run would technically end at “Old Nag’s Head”, the pub opposite the path in Edale.  However, I would then have to run a further ½ mile to the car park where Rachel would be waiting for me, to finally finish The Run. From my accommodation in Hayfield I was aware all night that the weather would be bad today.  The wind had risen during the night and I could hear it howling, and rustling the leaves of the trees with a sound that made me think it was raining, although in fact it was not.  When I looked out of the window this morning, therefore, I expected the worst and I was not disappointed.  Although it was not wet the sky was overcast and the clouds hung very low like a billowing grey curtain.  It was not until I was en route in the car to Torside that I realised just how bad the weather was.  As soon as I saw Kinder Scout and the Crowden area I realised I would be running in mist.  The mountains did not merely have mist at the top – the whole of the mountains, from their bases to their summits were completely hidden in very dark, dense mist.  My heart sank.  I felt like screaming.  I certainly panicked inside, but I kept it to myself.  Today was my last day and I had to go through with it, whatever it meant. Rachel was frightened for me.  She had never seen such dense mist and told me later that when she dropped me off and was driving to Edale, that the mist descended on her road and she had to drive with her fog lights on.  She was frightened on the road and worried for me.  When I left Rachel I was scared, very scared.  I was already apprehensive about running this area, having already been lost in mist here.  However, to see the mist hanging so low and being so dense was like my worst fear coming true.  Now I would truly see what I was made of.  I found it difficult to leave the car.  I hesitated, toileted, tied and re-tied my shoe laces.  Eventually I took a deep breath and said goodbye to Rachel, turning and running off without contemplating the subject further.  I could not let my fear of the mist rule me.  I had it within me to overcome this challenge.  I had a map with compass bearings written upon it.  I knew the path to Bleaklow Head.  My only real difficulty, or so I thought, would be crossing from the cairn on Bleaklow Head to Hern Clough. I soon gained Reaps Farm and from there I began a steep upward climb to Clough Edge.  Almost as soon as I started to climb I found myself entering the cloud layer.  Looking down I could see only grey mist; looking ahead I could see only grey mist.  I wondered what on earth I was doing here.  The first major turn from my path would be the ford of Torside Clough where it is joined by Wildboar Grain.  I knew the turn.  But would I be able to see it?  Visibility was reduced to a maximum of 15 metres. The Pennine Way on Clough Edge is a narrow path on a very steep valley side and a fall could be fatal.  I would run where I could but it would be too dangerous to run on some parts of the path.  It would also be risky to run in dense mist and would enhance the possibility of losing my way.  Some of the valley side is precipitous and rocky and had it not been so misty I would have beheld a very fine view of the clough below.  Looking down from Clough Edge was an eerie experience for it gave the impression of a huge bottomless abyss, shrouded in a grey veil.               Dense mist on Clough Edge, looking down to Torside Clough   Pennine Way along Clough Edge           I was now looking out for the narrow track from my path to the ford.  The Pennine Way leaves the good track I was on, where Wildboar Grain flows into Torside Clough.  The track is left via a narrow path descending steeply to the ford below.  I could not see the Clough below me and was concerned lest I miss the track.  I was so sure I should have come to it by now.  Had the mountain been clear of mist I am certain there would have been no difficulty.  As I was running along Clough Edge (on a less dangerous section), not far from the head of the valley I heard footsteps ahead of me.  I quickly caught them up.  I was so pleased and so relieved to meet someone else.  It was a 20 year old hiker.  I talked to him for a few minutes, anxious to share the journey to Bleaklow Head with him.  He lived in Prague but was schooling in a university in Cambridgeshire.  He liked the mountains for they reminded him of home.  It was quite obvious that he wished to be alone and so I bid him farewell and ran on.  It seemed that I had to face my worst fear on my own, but the mere fact that I had met someone else on this mountain gave me a new zest of encouragement and inner resolve. After only 50 metres or so I found the path that I thought led to the ford.  My friend from Prague continued on the track.  I hailed him and told him he was on the wrong path but he continued in the wrong direction anyway.  I forded the Clough and proceeded quickly uphill on my new path, which soon became more distinct and stony.  I was now following Wildboar Grain.  I kept hoping and praying that the mist would lift before I reached Bleaklow Head, but that was not to be the case. I thought I saw the Bleaklow Head cairn ahead of me but as I approached it I realised that it was a fence post on Far Moss, where the path bends from east north east to south south east.  After following the fence for a short while the path then wound between large peat hags, but there were stone markers to keep me on the right track.  These markers have very faint yellow arrows painted on them.  In my opinion they should be painted with luminous paint so that they stand out in mist or dark. After a while I was able to make out the cairn on Bleaklow Head.  The peat hag on which it stands is an island in a sea of white sand and there is no discernable path whatever.  The path was relatively well marked coming up, and also near the cairn from the direction in which I was traveling.  There was no marker or indication of a path, however, on the other side.  One of the difficulties in navigating on Bleaklow Head is that the path to Hern Clough follows one of the myriad of cloughs originating at Bleaklow Head.  They all look the same, including the one shared by the Pennine Way.   This was my moment of trial – I would either triumph or fail.  I took a compass bearing.  The Wain Stones, a rocky landmark on the far side of the path should be on a bearing of 2300 .  My exit path should be on a bearing of 1700.  I set off from the cairn on a bearing of 1700.  As the cairn disappeared from view I felt an icy shiver down my spine and almost screamed inside. I was fortunate enough to walk directly to the path, or at least what looked like the start of a path.  I could see clusters of footprints around this area and decided to follow this faint trail.  If I was wrong and this was not the way it would be difficult to retrace my steps.  As I descended, the path looked more and more as I expected it should.  There were many, many footprints – always a promising indication.  The path passed between large peat hags that had grown on either side.  I soon came across a number of marker posts, positioned between the hags and pointing the way back up.  I had found the correct path.  I felt immensely relieved and jubilant.  I had faced my worst fear and had prevailed.  I felt good inside.             Pennine Way just below the Wain Stones   Pennine Way towards the Hern Stones           The hags eventually grew smaller and the dry clough I was in started to fill with water.  Moorland began to appear and the mist began to lift.  I felt quite certain that I was meant to climb Clough Edge and Far Moss, and pass over Bleaklow Head alone and in dense mist.  It seemed like some kind of mental test, in which I was placed deliberately so that I, too, could be taught to face my worst fear, for no sooner was I over it than the mist lifted, and it never returned today. As I ran down Hern Clough I met four teenagers sitting down and studying a map.  They were en route to the Wain Stones.  I told them to follow the path, and wished them well. They were army cadets on exercise and I passed their leaders later on just leaving their van on the Snake Pass, a few miles from their cadets, presumably intending to meet up with them. As I left Hern Clough near Alport Low the path snaked once more between peat hags.  There were marker stones at all of the awkward bits and some of the path was paved.  As I entered Devil’s Dike the path was flagged and remained so for most of the way to Doctor’s Gate.  I was able to increase my pace substantially. In time I came to Doctor’s Gate and from thence made my way along the easy, stony. path to the road on the Snake Pass, which I crossed and then via a stile entered onto Featherbed Moss.  The whole of this area is paved and I was able to make very good time.  It is as well that it was paved as the moor on each side of me looked very difficult to cross.  On the Moss there was a distinct odour given off by the bilberry bushes and cotton grass, as the sun began to shine on them.  I cannot describe the smell as there is nothing I am familiar with that is similar to it. As I continued climbing towards Mill Hill the Kinder plateau drew ever nearer, appearing as a large and foreboding silhouette leaving the horizon to take company with me.  The weather still looked as if mist or rain could descend at any time, but in fact it never did and the sun began to shine increasingly.  As I reached the area of Moss Castle I began to see two large stakes, which I mistook for the Mill Hill post.  But Mill Hill post was still further away.  I did, however, eventually arrive at the post and was surprised to see it was no longer like that in photographs I had seen.  It did not point out the Pennine Way path in the direction I was running, although I suppose this route was quite obvious. After pausing for a short while at the Mill Hill post, which is in the saddle between Mill Hill and Kinder I began the ascent of the Kinder plateau.  This was quite steep and consisted of rocky steps.  As I neared the top I felt the power of the wind that was now rushing up the edge.  There was a good view from here of the Kinder Reservoir in the valley below. The path now ran along the edge of the Plateau for several miles and in most places there was a sheer drop of hundreds of feet.  I followed the path to Sandy Hags and there met a Spanish girl who was traveling. alone to Crowden.  She had experienced dense mist earlier on and had tagged on to a group of three hikers who had passed me earlier.  We exchanged information about our respective routes ahead and wished each other well. As I ran along the plateau path I could see ahead of me the valley wherein the Kinder Downfall lay and also the valley where the Red Brook flowed, and way beyond them Kinder Low.  The fields far below looked like a patchwork quilt of various shades of green and yellow and brown.               The Pennine Way towards Kinder Downfall   Kinder Downfall (waterfall)           As I approached Kinder Downfall I could see spray being blown back up the fall by the wind.  The chasm in which the fall lay was very steep and awe inspiring.  There were several groups of people congregated around the area, sitting on the rocks and just staring at the fall.  The area above the Downfall was strewn with large rocks and the path was best traversed by jumping from one rock to the next. I continued to run towards Kinder Low and now became confused.  I saw a cairn off to the left, away from the edge, but there did not seem to be a proper path to it.  It stood proud of the large peat hags that clustered the area.  I assumed because it was a cairn that it must mark the path, but the path seemed also to continue along the plateau edge and I erred in following this instead.  I was actually undecided in which route to take until I saw a boy and girl walking their dog, coming from the opposite direction along the edge, and assumed, incorrectly, that this path must be the correct one.                Pennine Way nearing Kinder Low   Kinder Low           I continued to run as the path descended and soon it became paved, and I assumed I must be on the correct route.  To my utter amazement, however, the paving suddenly split into two separate paths, each as good as the other and each going in different directions at about 60 degrees apart.  There were no marker posts or signs of any description and I was flummoxed, not knowing which way to go.  I could not find these paths on my OS map and it was quite obvious that I must have strayed from the Pennine Way. I guessed that I should be bearing to my left and took that path.  I was fortunate in doing so as I now believe that the other path would have taken me into Hayfield.  As I ran downhill I could not make out any identifying landmarks and eventually reached a stile and wall with a stone track on the opposite side.  There was no indication as to which way to go, left or right.  As I guessed left last time I did the same again.  I soon came to another gate and there was a Pennine Way signpost.  There were four directions to take; the Pennine Way was indicated upward (to my left) only and I presumed this was the way I should have come down from.  But the sign did not indicate which way I should now go, i.e. straight on, to my right, or back the way I had come.  I could hardly believe it.  I was left to guess again. At Kinder Downfall I had had the choice of following one of two routes – either the old route that led across Edale Moor and descended via the Grindsbrook Clough or else to follow the new and recommended route around Kinder Edge, the path I was now following.  I had assumed the former route would be difficult to follow although it was considerably shorter.  I had stayed with the recommended route.  I now wished that I had not.  I had been on the old route before and would have fared far better on that route than this. I guessed to take the path opposite to that going up, i.e. to my right.  This seemed more logical.  I considered that for someone descending they would continue going straight unless a marker indicated otherwise.  I was about to depart when I saw two men walking up from the route ahead of me.  I waited for them and asked which route was the Pennine Way.  They were on the Pennine Way and confirmed that my path to Edale lay ahead and not to my right.  I was very lucky! I now ran speedily downhill, confident that I was on the right path and that there was not much further to go.  I soon came to some steep stone steps at the top of Jacob’s Ladder and from here I had a good view of the valley in which Crowden Clough lay, ahead of me.  I could also see across to Grindlow Knoll and Ringing Roger.  From the bottom of Jacob’s Ladder there was a fine view down the Noe valley and of the Pennine Way below.               Pennine Way along Jacobs Ladder   Looking back up Jacobs Ladder           There was a beautiful arched stone bridge here, across the River Noe.  I sped towards Edale, on my last leg of the journey, passing through Lee Farm and Upper Booth on the way.  I was very impressed with Upper Booth and its quaint buildings.  From here it was just a short way to Edale and to the Nag’s Head.  I wanted to photograph this pub but by camera disc was full and I had no spares left.               River Noe   Upper Booth           I had still to run another ½ mile to reach the car park but this was straight forward road running and I covered the distance in no time.  I found Rachel waiting for me.  She had been worried all day, knowing what I had been running in earlier on.  After a little chit chat I went to a grassy area behind the public toilets and stretched for 20 minutes. We then drove home.  I could not wait to get home and felt apprehensive about the kind of welcome I would receive.  I had been away for too long!  I had a very warm welcome from Carol and all of my beautiful children.  They had made a “welcome home” streamer and had draped it across the hall.  I am sure that Heaven must be made up of families because nothing short of living with my family would be Heaven to me.         Day 16 Prep Runs       Author - Roy McKee Copyright © Roy McKee 2006