What a super duper short winter walk this turned out to be, albeit with a boot-soaking challenge near to the end.
Having paid to park on the approach road to Grindleford Station, Nellie and I followed the pavement downhill to the village proper, passing St Helen’s Church containing a community shop. Further down the road on the right before the traffic light bridge is a toll cottage, standing beside what was originally the turnpike road to Newhaven via Calver and Bakewell, authorised by an Act of 1759.
Just before the bridge we walked through a gap in the wall to pick up footpath number 34 as indicated on one of the earliest Peak District & N C Footpaths Society signs I have come across, dated 1908. Following a stretch of the Derwent Valley Heritage Way soon brought us to an information board advising that an area of land here has been taken on by the Tropical Butterfly House of North Anston for conserving native wildlife.
We entered woodland at Horse Hay Coppice where long stretches of our path were paved like a causeway of worn stones laid over gloop. This fabulous undulating and winding way led us between old upright gritstone posts and across a couple of streams. Emerging from the woods, our footpath then continued through meadows dotted and spotted with sheep before leading us to Froggatt along Spooner Lane. Opposite at the junction was the quaint little Wesleyan Reform Chapel of 1832.
The name Froggatt has many derivations including Frog Cottage, Frogga Cot and in 1203 a document recorded the settlement as being called Froggegate.
Nellie and I headed down Hollowgate to cross over Froggatt’s late 17th century bridge which has a most unusual design of different shaped arches, one being rounded and the other pointed. We ascended the lane with Stoke Hall to our right. This impressive building is a Grade II* listed 30-room Georgian Palladian mansion, designed by James Paine who was also responsible for the ornate bridge on the approach to Chatsworth House.
On the corner of the main road is a property with a plaque on the door stating it to be Stoke Toll House circa 1729. We might moan about today’s road tax, but it wasn’t cheap travelling along roads in the 18th century either if you had to keep opening your purse every mile or so!
Having carefully crossed over the road we then followed a footpath steeply up through two fields opposite. Alongside were large meadows that had been mown for silage, the hundreds of large black bags equally spaced and neatly lined up in immaculate rows.
Stopping for a breather, I looked around me at the incredibly diverse geology, worthy of a geography school trip. One side of the valley is pure limestone with a history of lead mining, whilst on the eastern side of the river is gritstone, renowned for its millstone quarrying and dominated by high escarpment Edges. Most fascinating of all though was the topographical wave around Knouchley Farm, no doubt created by glacial melt in the last Ice Age.
Emerging onto the old Eyam Road which has been permanently closed due to landslip, Nellie and I turned right and wandered along in quiet solitude.
Eventually we came to the road junction where an easy way back to the car would have been to simply walk down through Grindleford. That option appeared a bit boring though. I therefore chose to head up the drive to Goatscliff, a little huddle of properties on the edge of a steep hill, where a footpath took me down to Goatscliff Brook, a dashing tree-lined watercourse, sunken down beneath slippery banks of mud. I was surprised to see there was no footbridge, just a few rounded semi-submerged stones placed in the watercourse. Not wanting to retrace my steps back up the field, I decided to give it a go! It was alright for Nellie who seemed to enjoy wading through the cold water. After a brief hesitation I hopped, skipped, splodged but then sank a foot into the water, filling my boot and soaking my sock in the process. To make matters worse, the path up the other side was very muddy indeed.
Our route then levelled out, passing through a couple of fields and stiles in the direction of a fabulous large house of mock Tudor style. To the right of this we went through a narrow gate and beside an incredibly ornate wall of old grinding stones.
Nellie and I then walked down Sir William Hill to the War Memorial, noticing along the way a little pinfold tucked away beneath trees on the right. Another old paved footpath returned us to the traffic light bridge. I then popped in the little shop for a locally made tray bake slice that gave me energy to get back to my car.
Sally Mosley
FOOTNOTE BY NELLIE: Happy Christmas readers. I hope you’re feeling merry. I can’t be bothered to write you a card but I’m sending best wishes, love Nellie xxx
Comments