Thursday – New Years Eve

With my passengers, Dave and Margaret, I set off for Grin Low. Passing through Ashbourne, we noticed snow on only the very highest hills but as we started to head over higher ground towards Buxton, the snow appeared at the roadside to greet us.

We reached Grin Low cottage at about 3.45pm and were surprised that Grin Low’s car park was buried under 3 feet of snow. I had no option but to park on the side of the iced up driveway, at the side of the cottage, the long entrance to the Grin Low caravan park. There’s never any caravans here at this time of year, so I was puzzled to see so many other cars parked close by with hordes of people walking about. The snow had obviously galvanized the local population into winter pursuits, skiing, tobogganing etc. On past new year visits, it was rare to see anyone else around but this level of snow had changed all that.

On entering the cottage, we found that Norman, Ruth, Judith, Tony and Laurie had arrived a good hour before us. So we all set about laying out the New Years Eve buffet, At about 6.00pm, the next car arrived with Alison, Clare and Mikhail. But they got stuck, so I and Norman helped to get them off the main road and on to the driveway. Brian was the only one now that we were waiting for, He was bringing his Hi-Fi equipment, so we could have some music, but where was he ?

It was a lovely clear moonlit night and with all the snow, you barely needed a torch and I was sorely tempted to go on a late night walk to Solomon’s Temple, only half a mile away. But as the weekend organiser, I felt duty bound to keep a look out for Brian. Eventually, he arrived at 11.15pm, overshot the entrance and got stuck a few yards up the road, trying to turn around in a gateway.

But a few willing hands came out to perform the second rescue of the evening. Apparently, Brian had overslept after a tiring Wednesday evening. Probably been out drinking into the small hours again. But he arrived in time to see in 2010 with the rest of us. He was unable to join us on any walks, he’d forgotten to bring his boots.

Friday – New Years Day

Tony volunteered to lead a walk from the cottage to the Goyt Valley. The original idea would have been to drive up to the Cat and Fiddle pub on the A537 but it wasn’t worth driving anywhere in case we got stuck, the Cat and Fiddle was blocked off anyway.

So we set off minus Brian but plus Sarah who had driven up from Leek, to join us for the walk and to stay for one night. It was a nice sunny morning but we were to have a few snow flurries later on.

We walked on the A54 for a short while before turning onto a minor road towards Goyts Moss, though what should have been a road was now a snow track. The road was under 4 feet of snow, it was amusing to see the occasional top of a road sign sticking out of the snow. After this, we joined a footpath that led us to a road at Goyts Moss. It was hard going as we were sinking into deep snow most of the time. The road, when we reached it, was little better, as it was very icy underfoot. We arrived at the ruins of Errwood Hall for lunch, most of the walls were still standing but there’s no roof, lucky for us the sun was still out. It was quite noticeable that out of the entire group, Mikhail was the only one not wearing any headgear. Being Russian, he found the conditions rather pleasant as British winters just do not compare with what Russia experiences.

Our progress had been painfully slow so any ideas about walking up Shining Tor were dismissed, even walking a further half mile to see an old chapel wasn’t practical as we would have been in danger of losing valuable daylight.

So we headed back the way we came and couldn’t believe our eyes when a car passed us on the road. We reached a road junction, sorry I mean a snow track junction. We would take the left turn for a mile to reach Buxton but before we did, we noticed that the car that passed us was stuck on a hill leading towards the Cat and Fiddle pub, it was soon joined by 2 other cars. Dave tried to persuade one of the drivers not to follow the other idiots but to no avail. Admittedly, the road was a on a one-way system but considering the conditions, they could have been forgiven for driving out what was technically the wrong way, never mind the fact they shouldn’t have driven out there in the first place.

Back at Grin Low, we were greeted by the arrival of Andy, Chris and Alice and that evening we achieved a record of having all 16 bunkbeds filled. On past new year weekends at Grin Low we’ve only managed 13.

The 3 course (free) meal kicked off with an excellent starter, a butternut squash soup that Alison made for us, an idea that she had discussed with me before the start of the weekend, which I’m grateful for. The main course was down to me, a cheese and tomato macaroni with chicken. Here I’m grateful to help from Chris and Brian, special thanks to Margaret for bringing the garlic, skinning the tomatoes and providing some olive oil. I was a bit nervous about cooking for 16, so I’m very grateful to Alice for her help in organizing the preparation and to Sarah for some of the cooking and her advice which was invaluable. Everyone appeared to enjoy the meal, so I’m relieved about that.

We then tucked into a fruit salad provided by Ruth, which went down very well, originally, this was intended for the previous night’s buffet but I asked Ruth if she could save it for this following night’s meal, for which I’m grateful.

But all was not over yet as Dave treated us to one of his coffee liquors, for which he is famous. I departed to bed with a warm glow and a full stomach.

Before the night was over, Chris treated us to his “all in one” firework display, though it didn’t go off at first and appeared to be an expensive dud. Chris then very cooly examined it, picked it up, pulled the fuse wire further out (DON’T DO THIS AT HOME FOLKS) put it down, then relit it. Everyone, especially Alice, thought he might blow his head off and yelled at him to leave it be. But his plan, though extremely risky, worked.  We were then treated to a 10 minutes or so, firework extravaganza and thankfully it was the multi-firework that went off with a bang, not Chris.

Saturday – 2nd January

We awoke on Saturday morning to a fresh covering of snow and glancing at the sky, it was obvious there was more on the way. Andy, who had planned to walk with us before heading home, decided not to risk it and drove home early. Also on their way home was Alison, Clare and Mikhail. Sarah gave Margaret a lift home.

Kathy arrived with Dorothy, not to stay over but to just do the day’s walk with us. The original plan for today was to drive over to Macclesfield Forest but that idea had to be abandoned, it wasn’t worth the risk considering the conditions.

Instead, we walked from the cottage again on a walk led by Chris. We crossed over the Grin Low road and walked down a footpath, heading in the direction of Flash. Walking over Stanley Moor, it made a change to be roaming over scenery that you normally only see on Christmas cards. We passed walls now only 3 feet high thanks to the snow drifts. Passing over the hill of Brand Top we dropped down a valley and crossed over an icy footbridge. We then walked along a track to Summerhill. It was then half a mile up to the “Travellers Rest” pub. But it was a painful ascent as the snow just flew straight into our faces, stinging the eyes, even though with our hoods up and being forced to look down at the ground, it still hit us. You couldn’t admire the scenery, let alone see who was walking next to you.

After what seemed hours, we reached the pub and sanctuary. We were greeted by roaring log fires and a cosy snug atmosphere and sat down for lunch. Whereupon Kathy treated most of us to a glass of mulled wine and refused to be recompensed for it. It was a very generous gesture and most welcome. The mulled wine was just what was needed to warm us up. Those not drinking the wine had tea or coffee instead, no one was in the mood for cold beer.

As we were about to leave, Norman persuaded the friendly landlady to take a photograph of the group. We then set off in thick fog as the snow had eased off, along the main A53, this being the quickest and most direct route back to Grin Low. The one unpleasant hazard with this was that we had to endure being splashed with slush from passing vehicles. Finally, we were back on to the Grin Low road but it was disappointing to see it covered with ice and snow after it had previously been gritted. But it didn’t deter Kathy from heading back home, taking Judith with her. I was sorry to see them go because I’m sure Kathy would have appreciated Grin Low cottage but I know they had things to do back at home, especially Judith.

The idea for the evening had been to partake of a “takeaway” meal, but the intervention of more snowy weather put paid to that idea. Everyone except me had enough food to make a decent meal. Norman invited me to share a fish supper with him and Ruth, for which I was grateful and I shared my last half bottle of wine with them.

Saturday evening was rather sedate as there now was only 9 of us left in Grin Low but Norman did entertain us a little by showing us his slides with the aid of Brian’s lap top.

Sunday- 3rd January

The day dawned sunny and bright, and normally it had been a tradition that on the last morning at Grin Low we would take a short walk to Solomon’s Temple, but we agreed to pass on it this time. We decided to set off home as soon as possible. We all set off together, making sure that all our cars started up OK and that no one was stuck.

In Conclusion

The most successful new year weekend at Grin Low since Dave Self’s 2001 venture. But the success of this weekend is thanks more to the people who came along and supported it rather than my organisation, I owe it all to them. In the best traditions of our group, everybody mucked in together and enjoyed themselves. There was no one spoiling it for others, no negative vibes.

99% of our group that have been to Grin Low Cottage have enjoyed it, so it’s hard to comprehend anyone not liking it. Grin Low with its thick walls, always keeps the warmth in, this was particularly appreciated this weekend with sub zero temperatures outside.

The snow, by and large, did add to the atmosphere this time, though it did change our timetable somewhat. Norman summed up the mood by asking if this could be our last but one weekend, instead of perhaps the last.

The truth is, it doesn’t have to be the last. But it is the last one for me to organize. If anyone else wants to take the plunge and organise another trip to Grin Low, whether at new year or on any other occasion, they are more than welcome and if they do, I would gladly add my name to their list.

I thank everyone who took part on this weekend, what more can I say?

We wisely decided not to walk to the nearest pub, about a mile away. Instead we clambered into 2 cars and drove to the Traveller’s Rest on the outskirts of Flash, the highest village in England. The weather was so fierce, we were battered and soaked just struggling to get from car door to pub door. But inside we found a warm welcome, it was particularly pleasing to eat a hearty meal beside a real old coal fire.

On Saturday morning, the weather had improved, the wind had dropped and the sun struggled to reveal itself. We drove to the western fringe of the Peak district and parked in Macclesfield Forest over the border in Cheshire. I used to think that all Cheshire was flat, but this western side of the county was decidedly hilly and Macclesfield Forest was very much moorlandlike in appearance.

From Nessit Hill, an high clearing in the forest, we enjoyed a lovely vista, looking over Ridgegate and Trentabank reservoirs and above the tree lined slopes on the east side of the reservoirs, Toot Hill drove a high wedge between the trees.

Leaving the forest, we crossed moorland to climb up Shutlingsloe hill. We found shelter down below the eastern crag of the hill and had our elevenses.

We then made our way down to Wildboarclough, this gentle green pastoral valley doesn’t live up to it’s fearsome name. Heading along Oakenclough we encountered a prolonged rain shower, whereupon Alice pointed out to me that John King, Alison’s son, was looking rather wet as his jacket didn’t look very waterproof. I offered him my spare cagoule, he gratefully accepted.

We arrived at the Hanging Gate Inn to dry out and to purchase some refreshments. This Inn dates back to 1621 and virtually sits at the conjunction of the borders of Cheshire, Derbyshire and North Staffordshire.

We followed a short section of the Gritstone trail back into Macclesfield Forest, whereupon I spotted a large wooden carving of an owl, I pointed this out to Alison Raven, who promptly took a photo of the scene. Our walk leader, Chris, was anxiously waiting for us to finish admiring the owl and catch up with the rest of the group before the rain, which had almost stopped, came back with a vengeance. But we were soon back at the cars after what I guess was a 8 mile walk and finished about 3pm.

Macclesfield Forest is worth a revisit some time, with its many ascents and descents there is much more variety of landscapes and high viewpoints than you could ever hope to find in flat forests like Sherwood or Charnwood, it’s also large and compact, not split up into a few small woods.

Back at Grin Low, Brenda was suffering from a swollen ankle, she needed something to give support and asked me if I had any bandages. Fortunately I did have a large bandage pack in my toiletry bag which had been waiting for ages for just such an emergency. Anne, a retired nurse, took over and did what came naturally with Alison King to assist and ready with a tube of Ibuprofen, if needed.

Not all my party of 13 people could stay all 3 nights, some combined the Grin Low weekend with new year celebrations elsewhere. The Grin Low weekend was made purposely flexible to accommodate their various schedules, rigidity would have meant a low turnout and a rather expensive weekend. So it was on the Saturday night we saw a few comings and goings. Anne had arrived with her brother John Chalmers a few hours earlier, Andy arrived early evening, but John King set off for home the same evening.

Saturday night saw the first of our buffets with more of an emphasis on hot food. Alison Raven did a lovely vegetable hot pot. The onion bhajis and samosas, provided by Dave were good too. There was also veggy vol au vents, spring rolls, cheesecake, fruit flan and Chris’s world famous chocolate “Polish cake” amongst many other goodies. I’m sorry I can’t remember all of what was contributed and by whom and I hope I haven’t offended anybody by not giving them an individual mention but I’m very grateful to all on the weekend for providing a good feast.

I must mention Alice however for organising the buffet and the timing of the hot food, what to cook and in what order. She did a sterling job. It was amusing that beforehand she declared that she didn’t want to get involved with the catering but somehow she just couldn’t help herself and did what came naturally. Alice seems to have such an exuberant appeal with a dash of eccentricity that everyone seems quite pleased to follow her lead.

Grin Low is a lovely warm and cosy place, its storage radiators would have been inadequate to warm Grin Low’s larger rooms were it not for Grin Low’s 3 foot thick walls. With such thickness acting as a solid insulation, you don’t need very large heaters. But with the heaters switched off in cool weather and with a window open, especially if your bunk is close to it, you can wake up freezing. This is what I experienced on the Sunday morning, as the curtains were drawn I didn’t notice that the window was open till much later. The person opening the window, though very stealthful may have acted with good intentions but he should have made clear his intentions. I was going to say something but decided to keep a diplomatic silence as I didn’t want to spoil what was turning out to be a marvelous new year weekend. But the person concerned may have been aware of my grumbles, because the following day a window at the far end of the room, in a position unlikely to disturb anyone, was open instead. I hope the person concerned reads this write up and will consider others before taking unilateral decisions in future. Anyway enough of my grouses, I’m such a bad tempered old cuss, time to move on.

Sunday started overcast, breezy but quite mild. We drove over to Cheshire again, this time to Tegg’s Nose country park, slightly to the north of Macclesfield Forest Our walk would be in a northerly direction, led again by Chris and ably assisted by Alice.

Tegg’s nose is a norse word as Tegge was an early viking settler, though the word “teg” also meant sheep in ancient language, as the hill may have originally looked sheeplike. “Nose” or “naze” referred to a promontory.

From the car park at Tegg’s Nose we headed north along the Gritstone Trail for the saddle backed Kerridge Hill, described as a narrow ridge in pamphlets, the path along the ridge was at least 6 foot. wide but with a steep slope either side. The views were contrasting, looking down to the west: the industrial sprawl of Macclesfield, looking over to the east: the rolling open foothills of the Peak District. Over to the north, famous for its rain, Manchester was actually gleaming in the sunshine. But soon despite the wind everything was gleaming in the sunshine. At the northern tip of the hill we reached a white cone shaped monument named White Nancy, built in 1820 to commemorate the Battle of Waterloo. It originally had a shelter but for some reason it’s been filled in. But at least we were able to sit around it and have a tea-break. We looked down at the attractive small town of Bollington with its impressive church spire. Instead of dropping down to Bollington, we turned down a lower path on the east side of Kerridge Hill and headed into the village of Rainow, which we had previously seen from many high angles. We found the Gritstone Trail again as we carried on along the Tower Hill ridge. At about 1:00pm, we were rapidly losing the sunny weather. The wind was picking up speed and there was drizzle in the air. Chris spotted a small wood partially surrounded by a brick wall The wood, full of thick heavy conifers, was ideal protection from the elements where we could sit and devour our lunch in peace, or so we thought. Finishing our sandwiches and about to sip our teas and coffees, complacency had really set in. The weather could do what it liked, we were safe and snug in this glorious little wood, perhaps time for a gentle snooze, but we were rudely disturbed by a very athletic and energetic young Springer Spaniel called Tess. Where the weather failed she succeeded causing great mayhem. Tess leaped and bounded around us, dive bombing with the persistency of a wasp. We desperately tried to protect our drinks, just as she seemed to be stopping, she started again. It was time for the white flag to be hoisted. Finally her owner managed to bring her to heel, it was the tensest tea break I’ve ever endured. Andy remarked that now he knew why their called Springers!

Such a shame, I used to like Springers.

We reached the cars about 2:00pm and headed for the Cat and Fiddle inn on the road home, just as the mist and rain started to close in. As we looked out from a cosy interior, the visibility was rapidly disappearing with frightening speed. Back at Grin Low, we realised we’d walked just 5 miles. But the temperamental conditions wouldn’t allow us to do much more.

On the Sunday evening (New Year’s Eve) our numbers fell down to 9, as Andy left to meet some friends elsewhere, Alison King went home with Elsie, who was off to do some babysitting.

The second of our buffets was dished out and just as good as the first, after which we had a few quizzes. But nobody seemed interested in charades, singing or dancing, which I felt was a pity. However we did have fun going outside to see Chris let off his 4 in 1 firework display and we did see in the new year in the traditional way and the only time we did sing, especially Dave, he was in good voice and knew more of the verses than the rest of us.

On New Year’s Day we embarked on a mile round walk to Solomon’s Temple, every time we’ve been to Grin Low we’ve visited Solomon’s Temple on the last morning, something of a tradition with our group. Typically on the morning of our departure the weather was at it’s best, breezy but sunny blue sky.

As always, we had excellent views of Buxton and the hills beyond from the tower. The tower, a victorian folly, was built in 1896. The name “Solomon’s Temple”, was named after Solomon Mylock, who rented the land for his grazing livestock.

Everyone mucked in and gave Grin Low a good clean out, especially Dorothy who gave the kitchen a damn good clean and got a bit mumsy.

My thanks to everyone on this weekend for making it a success, all of whom have been mentioned in this write up, special thanks to the drivers and walk leaders and special thanks to the Treasurer for his figures. I was very pleased that the 2 buffets worked out well. In the past we’ve had large meals laid on by some good cooks but this time we needed to save money. My idea of 2 buffets was a gamble but it paid off well.

So farewell Grin Low until next time, whenever that may be.