WALKS WITH NELLIE – BIGGIN DALE ~ BY SALLY MOSLEY

This is not intended as a walk guide

This walk was a visual delight over a rolling landscape crisscrossed with drystone walls and narrow country lanes linking remote little villages. It was not dissimilar to watching a scene from ‘Postman Pat’, especially when I was passed by a happy smiley person driving a red Parcelforce van. Bisecting this pastoral panorama is the rollercoaster A515 that runs parallel with the Tissington Trail.

We began our hike at Alsop-en-le-Dale car park at the side of the trail which we then followed northwards for a mile or so. Elevated from the surrounding White Peak countryside, this stretch of former railway line must have been a very scenic journey in its day, one that Michael Portillo would have admired and enthused over had he been given the chance. Laid as part of the London & North Western Railway (LNWR), this 13-mile stretch opened in 1899 and ran from Ashbourne to Parsley Hay before closing to passengers in 1954.

With high embankments either side I enjoyed stupendous views reaching far into the distance incorporating an almost aerial view across to the Staffordshire Moorlands.

At Alsop Moor we descended the trail to head up Liffs Lane past Lees Barn Holiday Cottages complex. Away to our left lay Coldeaton, now comprising just a cluster of buildings including two farmhouses and cottages. However, these are situated on a site dating back to medieval times. The name Eaton in Old English generally refers to a farmstead or settlement by the river. Coldeaton probably got its name from being close to the river but on high and windswept ground.

Heading uphill to the side of The Liffs, our lane then began an almost straight route in the direction of the sprawled out village of Biggin-by-Hartington where the tower of St. Thomas’s Church, founded in 1848, peeped up from its sheltered setting amongst mature trees.

After a dip in the road we went through a gate on the left to follow a bridlepath down Biggin Dale that began as a grassy field but eventually became a stone strewn, ankle-twisting, trip hazard path before finally emerging at Wolfscote Dale. The Dove was far from dashing past that day, its low level waters still beautiful though as they dawdled along. Especially so when the sun created reflections of trees and overhanging branches on deeper pools where flies skimmed the surface. Several large birds were flying around the craggy slopes opposite, whilst smaller song birds flitted about in woodland on the Derbyshire side of the valley. However, it was sad to see many trees had been cut down and re-planted because of ash dieback.

These days I have plenty of time on my hands to wander at will with Nellie around our beloved Peak District, and I can relate to the following lines taken from a poem about the Dove entitled The Retirement, written by Charles Cotton in the 17th century:

‘Oh, how happy here’s our leisure

Oh, how innocent our pleasure

Oh, ye vallies, Oh, ye mountains

Oh, ye groves and crystal fountains

How I love at liberty

By turns to come and visit ye!’

The poem is both romantic and humorous as it goes on to state:

‘Such streams Rome’s yellow Tyber cannot show,

The Iberian Tagus or Ligurian Po;

The Maese, the Danube and the Rhine,

Are puddle-water all, compar’d with thine.’

We passed the remains of a ram pump house installed long ago to pump river water to farmland high above. A ram pump is self-powered, using the energy of flowing water to pump a small portion of that water to a higher elevation without needing electricity or external power.

We arrived at Coldeaton Bridge, a strong wooden structure above steel girders that are pinned to stone abutments thought to be much older and probably dating back several centuries.

Turning left beside a little building we began a gradual uphill amble between deep dark woodland and dramatic rocky slopes. Emerging from the woods we went through a little gate to access the narrow path up Bradbury’s Bank which provided fabulous views back down toward the river.

Returning to the trail it was a lovely level finish to end our walk.

FOOTNOTE BY NELLIE: Me and my mum have such an exciting life! The other day we drove a couple of miles from home to enjoy an early morning constitutional walk. Going along a quiet path I sniffed out evidence from a burglary the night before. Mum got in touch with the police and took them what she had found as well as photos taken with her phone. She was asked to make an official statement about our discovery but didn’t need to have her fingerprints taken. I gave my paw prints though when I jumped up the policewoman’s nice clean uniform to give her a kiss. Big smiles and slurps from super-sleuth Nellie! xx

This walk was a visual delight over a rolling landscape crisscrossed with drystone walls and narrow country lanes linking remote little villages. It was not dissimilar to watching a scene from ‘Postman Pat’, especially when I was passed by a happy smiley person driving a red Parcelforce van. Bisecting this pastoral panorama is the rollercoaster A515 that runs parallel with the Tissington Trail.

We began our hike at Alsop-en-le-Dale car park at the side of the trail which we then followed northwards for a mile or so. Elevated from the surrounding White Peak countryside, this stretch of former railway line must have been a very scenic journey in its day, one that Michael Portillo would have admired and enthused over had he been given the chance. Laid as part of the London & North Western Railway (LNWR), this 13-mile stretch opened in 1899 and ran from Ashbourne to Parsley Hay before closing to passengers in 1954.

With high embankments either side I enjoyed stupendous views reaching far into the distance incorporating an almost aerial view across to the Staffordshire Moorlands.

At Alsop Moor we descended the trail to head up Liffs Lane past Lees Barn Holiday Cottages complex. Away to our left lay Coldeaton, now comprising just a cluster of buildings including two farmhouses and cottages. However, these are situated on a site dating back to medieval times. The name Eaton in Old English generally refers to a farmstead or settlement by the river. Coldeaton probably got its name from being close to the river but on high and windswept ground.

Heading uphill to the side of The Liffs, our lane then began an almost straight route in the direction of the sprawled out village of Biggin-by-Hartington where the tower of St. Thomas’s Church, founded in 1848, peeped up from its sheltered setting amongst mature trees.

After a dip in the road we went through a gate on the left to follow a bridlepath down Biggin Dale that began as a grassy field but eventually became a stone strewn, ankle-twisting, trip hazard path before finally emerging at Wolfscote Dale. The Dove was far from dashing past that day, its low level waters still beautiful though as they dawdled along. Especially so when the sun created reflections of trees and overhanging branches on deeper pools where flies skimmed the surface. Several large birds were flying around the craggy slopes opposite, whilst smaller song birds flitted about in woodland on the Derbyshire side of the valley. However, it was sad to see many trees had been cut down and re-planted because of ash dieback.

These days I have plenty of time on my hands to wander at will with Nellie around our beloved Peak District, and I can relate to the following lines taken from a poem about the Dove entitled The Retirement, written by Charles Cotton in the 17th century:

‘Oh, how happy here’s our leisure

Oh, how innocent our pleasure

Oh, ye vallies, Oh, ye mountains

Oh, ye groves and crystal fountains

How I love at liberty

By turns to come and visit ye!’

The poem is both romantic and humorous as it goes on to state:

‘Such streams Rome’s yellow Tyber cannot show,

The Iberian Tagus or Ligurian Po;

The Maese, the Danube and the Rhine,

Are puddle-water all, compar’d with thine.’

We passed the remains of a ram pump house installed long ago to pump river water to farmland high above. A ram pump is self-powered, using the energy of flowing water to pump a small portion of that water to a higher elevation without needing electricity or external power.

We arrived at Coldeaton Bridge, a strong wooden structure above steel girders that are pinned to stone abutments thought to be much older and probably dating back several centuries.

Turning left beside a little building we began a gradual uphill amble between deep dark woodland and dramatic rocky slopes. Emerging from the woods we went through a little gate to access the narrow path up Bradbury’s Bank which provided fabulous views back down toward the river.

Returning to the trail it was a lovely level finish to end our walk.

FOOTNOTE BY NELLIE: Me and my mum have such an exciting life! The other day we drove a couple of miles from home to enjoy an early morning constitutional walk. Going along a quiet path I sniffed out evidence from a burglary the night before. Mum got in touch with the police and took them what she had found as well as photos taken with her phone. She was asked to make an official statement about our discovery but didn’t need to have her fingerprints taken. I gave my paw prints though when I jumped up the policewoman’s nice clean uniform to give her a kiss. Big smiles and slurps from super-sleuth Nellie! xx