WALKS WITH NELLIE – YOULGRAVE ~ BY SALLY MOSLEY

This is not intended as a walk guide

This is not intended as a walk guide

Spring has sprung! Our gardens and verges are adorned with daffodils and little lambs can now be seen frolicking in the sunshine.

Having driven through Youlgrave, I parked up in the car park at Coldwell End next to the village allotments. Patterned with sheds, water butts, and bean rows, these individual plots rise up the side of the hill. No doubt the highest gardens get the best sunshine and drainage.

We walked roadside just a short distance away from the village to take a footpath on the left that dropped down into Bradford Dale where ducks were dabbling on the river and dappled rays of sunshine like lasers shone between the branches of leafless trees.

Nellie and I crossed over a little bridge which had words inscribed into the cap stones on one side, being an art work created as part of a millennium project known as the Sites of Meaning. Now patterned with lichen and moss the words read ‘Still glides the stream, and shall forever glide; The form remains, the function never dies’, They were originally penned by William Wordsworth.

Having followed the river upstream we passed the scant remains of Middleton Mill where tape, cardboard pill boxes and bobbins were evidently manufactured in the 19th century. The nearby Middleton Sheep Wash that was still in use until around 1950 is said to be one of the best preserved sites of its kind in the county. A fascinating information board provided me with lots more snippets of interest.

We continued past Fulwood Rock behind which Christopher Fulwood hid during the English Civil War. He was caught and later died at the hands of Cromwell’s men.

After a steep flight of metal steps we crossed fields spotted with sheep and lambs on a footpath through Hopping Farm, walking to the left of the farmhouse and then straight ahead through the caravan site. We were now on the up, ascending to Mawstone Lane. It was almost possible to jump clean over this narrow roadway with passing spaces before continuing steeply uphill. At times our route had been signed as being the way to Robin Hood’s Stride, and once on elevated ground we got a tantalising glimpse of this gritstone rock formation that from a distance looked like the ruins of some medieval manor house. Youlgrave Church also came into view, its distinctive tower rising high up from a hotchpotch of houses and cottages that surrounds it.

Having passed Bleakley Plantation Nellie and I aimed for Tomlinson Wood but then did a left to walk in the bottom of a miniature valley below Harthill Moor Farm, sited beside Castle Ring. The latter is a scheduled monument of national importance that probably dates from around the 6th century BC and would have been a small defensive settlement. Harthill Moor that surrounds it is a magical, mystical landscape of stone circles, rock formations, a standing stone and hermit’s cave.

Nellie and I now picked up the route of the Limestone Way long distance path which is both well signed and well used. Away to our left as we began our return to Youlgrave is the disused site of Mawstone Mine, scene of a terrible disaster. On 23rd May 1932 an underground gas explosion directly killed five miners. A further three brave men died of carbon monoxide poisoning in a failed rescue operation.

Arriving at the river again we followed the crystal clear water upstream past the swimming pool area and on to the clapper bridge for our finale – a slow slog up a steep and narrow stepped and cobbled path that winds around tucked away little cottages at Bankside, built almost one on top of another in a quaint and quirky higgledy-piggledy maze of properties.

Emerging opposite the Methodist Chapel, it was only a short walk back to the car.

FOOTNOTE BY NELLIE: I’ve seen some funny things in my time but this one was bizarre! On a cold and frosty March morning, me and Mum went walking through Lathkill Dale. Just before the ruins of Bateman’s House we saw a heron take flight from the river. Then just around the corner I came across a squirming, wriggling monster in the middle of the path that stopped me in my tracks. It was all slimy and smelt horrible. A fish, destined to be the heron’s breakfast had somehow slipped from its captors talons and fallen to earth not far from my paws. Manna from heaven you might think? Not for me. Mum made sure it had one last swim before it died by scooping it up and putting it back into the river. Tight lines. Nellie xx