WALKS WITH NELLIE ~ ELTON ~ BY SALLY MOSLEY

With only one day forecast when the temperature was going to dip below heatwave hot to a pleasant walking temperature, I was encouraged to rush out the house with boots in hand and an excited dog following. A bit of rain actually fell that day which turned out to be a delight. Nellie and I were both pinged on by little droplets of hydrating water like, Mother Nature’s spa treatment, as we walked through fields, along tracks and quiet country lanes.

I drove to the top of Winster. Here, a little public car park is located just off the open village green where markets and fairs were once held. Walking roadside along the B5056 we passed the old ore house used long ago as a night safe by lead miners. Opposite this is Mosey Mere which sits on a bed of volcanic rock. Long ago this provided a supply of water for the old settlement of Islington that stood on this site.

Just after the Bonsall turn off we went through a narrow gate on the right to follow a footpath up and over the hill, carefully avoiding cows, calves and adolescent livestock.

On meeting up with Stunstead Lane Nellie and I turned right to follow this grassy track which then became a drive leading away from Sacheveral Farm. All around were golden fields, bleached by the sun but soon to turn green again with the return of rainfall. There were verges full of tall grasses and bramble, smothered with green baby blackberries and I smelt a wonderful whiff of herbal plants, wild flowers and wet road surface.

At the crossroads we headed straight over to follow Exlowmere Lane, a very quiet little road to Elton. There were traditional hay meadows either side and pasture being nibbled by a small flock of rare breed sheep that all looked smartly shorn and poodle parlour cool.

Dotted here and there around this wondrous White Peak landscape are lumpy, bumpy earthworks of disused mine workings and occasional old stone field barns. Nearby are the nationally important Rainslow Scrins scheduled Ancient Monument. Initially worked hundreds of years ago on the surface, these thin veins of lead ore were then followed underground by means of deep shafts.

Just on the outskirts of Elton we turned left along Hungerhill Lane for a short detour so that Nellie and I could enter the village from its west end and walk its entire length. Elton contains characterful cottages, a church, chapel, village hall and pub. Rather interestingly it is situated on a geological border with mainly gritstone houses to the north and limestone to the south of its main street.

In the churchyard are some poignant and touching epitaphs on gravestones including that of George Petts who died aged 80 in 1910 which reads: ‘A kinder heart never beat. A truer friend never breathed. A better lead miner never lived.’

Leaving Elton by heading east, Nellie and I did a right at the little crossroads to walk along Islington Lane, a restricted byway that would take us back to Winster. This is a very ancient route that formed part of the prehistoric ‘portway’ that linked hill forts thousands of years ago. On a map, there are long stretches where it is possible to determine the almost straight line of its course. However, some sections now form part of modern day roads whilst others remain as bridleways heading over peak district hilltops.

We emerged back at the top of Winster, ending our relatively short walk by heading down past the Miners Standard pub. Built in 1653 by the Prince family, the name is taken from the dish used by miners to measure ore. During the lead mining era, when there were countless mines surrounding Winster, many local residents worked in or at them. The population of the village increased rapidly and it was said that 22 pubs or alehouses became established to cater for their thirst.

Sally Mosley

FOOTNOTE BY NELLIE: To my canine friends. You all know that I’m Mummy’s fur baby, but are you aware that I’m also Daddy’s little princess? If Mum goes off out somewhere I’m quite happy to spend all day snuggled on Dad’s knee or to be with him in his car. However, if Dad goes out I pine, mope and can’t be consoled. When I hear him return my tail starts up like a propeller, helping me to jump up onto the back of the sofa so that I’m at the optimum height for being lifted up and cuddled. I hope all you dogs out there have loving homes and are spoilt too. Do you like reading about my exploits? Well, if I can write them you should be able to read them!! Wink, wink, Nellie xx