Wild camping, by myself.....

 

I'm about to set off on my journey and there's a writhing knot of apprehension in my stomach.

I'm about to try something I've never done before.

 

Wild camping, on my own....

 

 

Yes. That's right. I'm going out to the middle of nowhere, with no backup, no support...

What's that I hear you say? I'm the most experienced one?

Well.. yes, It's true. I've always technically had the leader badge, but I've also had my friends to fall back on.. Paul is world class at finding elusive cairns in the fog.. and James? Well.. apart from the most vital task of bringing lunch (I always, always forget), he is also the best listener I've ever known. Perfect for bouncing ideas off..

I enjoy their company and we enjoy just mucking about, taking the piss out of each other and just generally getting some enjoyment out of life.

 

And perhaps, most important, I know if one of us injures himself, We can trust the others to find civilisation and raise the alarm.

 

This time. I don't have them.

I have no safety net..

... I have no idea if the wilds will be hospitable, if it will be the same calm paradise, in the total dark of night..

 

I'm committed now though. I've made my decision and its time to stick to it.

It's best foot forward at the bus station. There's only one bus out in the morning, and one bus back in the afternoon (the 273, if your wondering). So... although the service fits my needs, if I miss my bus tomorrow afternoon, it's a very long walk to the next nearest bus stop near the Ladybower Inn.

Ok.. If that was just a gentle Saturday stroll, then all would be well.. However, after lumping my pack all the way out here, and then back tomorrow - it's something I would like to avoid.

 

I find the stop for the 273 and board with a complement of old ladies, students and a few other walkers.

(and one real rambler... long of beard and faded of clothes. With what cash he had in his hand, that's where he was going (whatever it was, it took him to Stanage edge).

 

I get off the bus at the car park just past the war memorial. It's the only car park on the left hand side of the road, so while it's not possible to mistake, it is easy to drive past if you're not watching though.

 

There's no preamble today, no kit to get from the boot, or last minute adjustments. No trainers to stash... I'm already suited and booted, so...

I set off up the gravel track, that leads from the car park.

 

It's always a nice start to a walk. Ok, it's steep right from the off - you really have to pace yourself while you warm up. But, It's wooded and in the shade, so it's nice and cool while you're exerting yourself getting to the top...

 

If you come this way, there's a gate about 3/4 of the way up, and another gate at the top it's peaceful (apart from the off mountain bikers getting their kicks).. Once you get to the top, there's a stile.. You hop over and then the horizons suddenly go from being tens of feet, to being tens of miles.. It's a change in perspective that always gets me. I love things like that. Things that grab hold of you and slap you hard, even if you were expecting it.

 

Once out in the open, you follow the edge of the wood for a while.

It's usually very calm here and the sun really beats down on the tops here after the coolness of the wood.

 

It's also pretty flat and paved in places, which is a good thing. I often find myself stumbling on this path, because I'm so busy taking in the view, not looking at where my feet are..

It's a beautiful ramble along this top path with an incredible vista. You can see Win hill, Lose hill and in front of Edale itself, mighty Kinder.

 

Now, to those of you who just chuckled, Kinder is mighty. It's certainly not the highest peak in the UK and monsters like Everest, might be something like 14 times the height... But mighty I think it is. If you don't believe me, just try walking around the top edge in a single day, or crossing it in the spring, when the bogs are treacherous. Theres often still snow around at that time of year and every time you climb out of a grough, there's not only another one to tackle, but an unending line of them, unbroken all the way to what seems far enough, to be the other edge of the world.

 

Thankfully, there's none of that here.

There's a couple more stiles along the way, and one large ladder stile that takes you over a wall (a test of balance with a full pack!) and when the tops become boggy, there's a stone path to carry you over the worst bits. Oh.. And plenty of lambs at the moment.. Everything seems to have come later this year, a consequence of such a cold spring I imagine.

 

 

It's as dry as a bone up here at the moment.

I had noticed that the reservoir was starting to drop a bit, but the peat is so dry today, you can walk on the open, evil looking bits, without even getting mud in your boots.

 

It worries a me a bit, because I want running water in the stream in camp, but as I drop down past Alport castles, there's a spring, which was still bubbling nicely.

I stop and refill my travel tap, revelling in the taste of the ice cold water in the heat of the now mid-day sun.

It's quiet here, but I expected that. It's a Friday, so there aren't the usual number of people lining the ways (not that Alport gets the crowds, For some reason, it always seems quieter here.. A bit of a hidden gem, I've only seen it busy on hot, sunny weekends).

 

 

I've packed really light this time. No tarp, no groundsheet. No hammock or extra bits of kit.

No large saucepans or grills for the fire.. Just the basics... And it shows. I make excellent time... Too good in fact.

 

I arrive at camp by about 2:30... Way to early too set up shop.

I've actually been here for about twenty minutes, but there were a couple of walkers passing where I wanted to go, so I sat down and had a smoke, let them get out of sight before I plunged off into the woods..

 

Because its so early, I get some wood for the fire and break what I can by hand, setting up the piles, sized to make it easier later, but leave the noisy axe till later. I really must get a new pocket saw. It's so much less obtrusive, lighter and.. Well.. Safer.

 

I sit down, I stand.. I sit again. I write some of this blog on my phone, then remember why I don't use a phone to blog with.

I wander round restlessly. I realise that not bringing that book, might have been a mistake.

I'm going to be honest here... I'm bored.

I expected some feeling of being 'connected' to nature in some way, or something peaceful..

No. I was mentally drawing up shopping lists, working out what needed to be done when I got back..

Of all the things I'd worried about, being bored, was not something I'd anticipated.

 

Mildly annoyed at being excluded from the mystical group of 'oneness' with nature, I snatched up my wine and walked down to the river.

There was a large flat stone, a few inches above the waterline. So I sat. Took my boots off, rolled up my trousers and stretched back, bathing in the river and the afternoon sun at the same time. my face in the sun, my feet in the water, drinking my wine. I have to admit this was one of the most pleasurable things I've done in ages and I'd be happy to be back there, (but with a book!... I'm stressing this a bit, I know.. But only so you don't make the same mistakes)..

 

The water was fresh, deep and luscious where I was sat. A natural pool, maybe four or five feet deep.. I was sorely tempted to go for a swim proper. But as it was now late afternoon, it was also turning cooler and the shadow of the hill was getting close to this side of the stream. I didn't want to run the risk of not getting properly dry, or cold...

 

Not long after, my stone slid into the shadow and my beautiful spot chilled immediately.

Rather regretfully, I picked up my wine and wandered back to camp. I made myself some Dinner and then set about the firewood, chopping the larger logs into manageable lengths.

Sunset comes early here, because of the valley sides.. A good hour - hour and a half earlier than on the tops..

But even before the sun set, it cooled dramatically.

I lit the fire and went back to sitting, standing, sitting.. Restlessly moving around.

 

As the sun finally starts to set there's another couple of walkers come up the valley, I can hear them chatting just above the sound of the stream. Then one of them says, "There's a fire!" I realise I can't just let them think the woods are on fire, so I step out, say hi and offer to share. They're going further up the valley. I mention another spot further up, just around the corner that's a good place. They are soon swallowed up by the the surroundings and it's like they were never here.

 

I saved pudding till now.. Because I forgot to pack lunch, I thought spacing out my dinner and pudding would help me stay full for longer.

I heat through my pouch of chocolate sponge pudding and tuck in.

It's incredibly stodgy, like a block of lard in fake-chocolate sauce.. As there's going to be nothing else to eat tonight, I keep going for a while longer.

It's no good. I'm not going to finish it. I throw what's left into the fire and watch what I don't want, be boiled, then eaten by the fire instead.

 

Soon after, I start to feel distinctly uncomfortable in the stomach department. It's making those distinctive, but uncomfortable bubbling noises, that are never a good sign.

I sit it out for a while, hoping that it will settle, but it gets more and more uncomfortable.

Sighing, I grab my stomach and my loo roll and set off for a walk.

 

....Short intermission....

 

I stagger back into camp, feeling distinctly ill. I'm worried.

I realise I might made a school boy error. Although I've been using a water filter for drinking water, when I made dinner, the water I boiled my pouch in.. Well.. Never boiled. I used it to make a coffee with, after cooking my stew.. It might have been at a simmer for a long time.. But is that enough? Have I picked up a bug?

 

My guts spasm again. I decide an early night might be a capital idea.

I quickly round up my stuff and unceremoniously drop it in my porch to keep the worst of the moisture off it. I crawl into my sleeping bag and lie there feeling awful. I'm sweating and thinking how traumatic the walk out tomorrow could be.. Especially if I'm caught short on the path.. My imagination runs riot, I can't help but think about how busy it will be tomorrow, a line of people headed for Alport, spurred on by the beautiful weather, while I'm at the side of the path, saying "morning" to everyone, wanting to be invisible and being mortified with embarrassment.

 

I wake early. Sometime around seven.

Although I feel much better, I decide that being back at the visitor centre, with it's toilet block is a very good idea. I quickly break camp, helped by the fact that I had spare room in the pack on the way out. So I throw everything in, only making sure that I put heavy stuff in the bottom. I don't bother with breakfast, I'm not sure if Its a good idea or not.

I decide that it's safer to be hungry.

 

I shoulder my pack and start out of the woods. It's blindingly sunny as I walk out. It's a beautiful day. Within minutes, I feel better. I'm looking forward to the walk, looking forward to doing something.

The walk back out passes in a beautiful blur of countryside, the only annoyance being the spring I normally use to fill my bottle halfway, has a herd of cows on it. They all have young calves and watch me wearily as I give them as much space as I can. Sadly, it means topping off my water bottle is not going to be possible. I'm not about to try and put myself between a mother and her calf...

That leaves me about half a litre for the rest of the walk.

 

I arrive at the visitor centre with drips left in it. I'm hot and thirsty and my body is screaming for sugar.

I have a cider ice lolly and a coke. Ok, it's not isotonic and coke isn't perhaps the healthiest choice.. But I firmly believe that your body knows what it needs, especially when you're feeling under par...

I pop in the visitor centre and buy a book to keep me occupied (the bus isn't due for nearly four hours yet).

 

I stretch out in the sun by the reservoir, book in hand. It's about bomber crews in WWII..

As I'm laid there, reading, a Dakota flies over.. It's really low, skimming the treetops.. The bomber roars over, while I'm reading about the crews and bombers of that era. It was a welcome, exhilarating coincidence..

 

Without realising it, its time for me to wander up to the bus stop and as I board, I realise I'm sad. Really, really sad.

I don't want to leave. I may have had some trials and was interminably bored at times, but I want more. I've just slowed down, just relaxed...

I don't think it's going to be long before I'm back out in the hills again.

 

Review: Gerber Bear Grylls Survival Series Ultimate Knife

Phew! What a title.. Bringing us to a a new piece of kit  I've been given to review, A knife made by Gerber.. The knife Mr Grylls thinks we need.

I’m very wary of kit that has a star’s name stamped on it. More often than not, It’s an excuse to ramp up the price and drop the quality. But bear with me on this piece of kit – it caught me by surprise.

 

First let’s get, what is for me, the biggest shortcoming out of the way.. Yes. It is serrated… I’m not normally keen on serrations, because they either can’t be sharpened, or are really difficult to sharpen. There is a good reason for them on this blade though. It makes the knife easier to use on a wider range of materials (If you’ve ever tried to slice bread with a fine edged kitchen knife, you’ll know what I’m talking about).

The knife is made from ‘High Carbon’ Stainless Steel, is 12.19 cm long (that’s 4.8 inches for those of us who use such things) and weighs 318g (417g with the sheath).

It feels right, in the hand. Balanced, with a full tang. In photos it does look a bit full on – a bit of a GI Joe, Rambo knife. In your hand it becomes the right size. Larger than a Mora perhaps, but still well proportioned. The grip is rubberised and very positive. This isn’t a knife that will slip out of your hand under hard use. It’s also drilled so you can more securely lash it to a stick and make a spear.

 

The Fire steel included in the sheath body works well and  is capable of starting fire in tinder (tested). In fact, It felt slightly more effective than my ‘light my fire’ fire steel, although that could be down to inconsistencies in the tinder I used. It also has a little rubber seal to keep out any sideways rain.

The sheath is well made, and has several features of it’s own. It can be threaded onto a belt or on a strap that runs vertically. The knife itself is held in place with a Velcro strap and a clip on the knife guard, which strengthens what I’m calling the ‘tactical’ feel of the knife. Yet again though, this is a useful feature, reducing the chance of losing the knife and making a more positive ‘home’ feeling when drawn or sheathed. When another Velcro strap further down is undone the blade guard flips over, revealing a sharpening stone on the back.

This brings me to a minor, but annoying niggle. The blade wasn’t that sharp when I got it, meaning I had to pull out the water stones to sort it out.. Happily for the purpose of the review this meant I could attack it with the stone on the sheath first to see if it is up to the job.

This is not a fine grit stone for getting a fine finish to the blade. It will however repair a damaged, blunted or nicked blade to a useable level out in the wild. It’s a steel plate with diamond finish, rather than a stone, meaning it’ll be pretty much impossible to break.. (After I’d used the stone in the sheath, I used my own water stones and the blade did sharpen enough to shave hairs off my arm, so another tick in another box).

 

I’m not keen on the whistle on the short lanyard on the handle. I know this is most likely to be the only piece of kit I may have to use here in the UK if things did go wrong, but it feels like an afterthought and always seemed to be in my way. The cord is also not long enough so that it could be slipped around the wrist to prevent the knife being dropped, which is one of the main reasons for a rear lanyard. Although this could easily be cut off (and reattached elsewhere), I’m not that comfortable bringing an unsheathed knife to my face when I’m in trouble.. If I’m dazed, hypothermic and shivering or panicking, this could cause an accident.

 

Finally, that leaves the ‘hammer’ in the pommel or butt of the knife.. There are disturbing reports on the net that this can be smashed off.. Gerber states this problem was limited to early runs of the knife and has now rectified this, but it’s worth being aware to stay clear of older stock, or only use this part of the knife if needed – you wouldn’t use your normal knife as a hammer.. Right?

 

 

I started to realise that I’d been looking at this knife all wrong. The clue is in the title. Although it may make you laugh at first with it’s pomposity, It’s a knife designed to save your life, to be used in extreme situations, but for a price a normal person can afford. If I really was stranded a ’la Bear in the Patagonian mountains, this would excel. I can’t think of anything else that covers so many situations or eventualities, but still performs each function in a useable way.

I like this knife. It snuck up on me and surprised me at my most cynical. It ticks every box for a remote wild camp and even looks good to boot.

Is the £62 price tag justified though? Well.. Yes.

Considering you get the fire steel and sharpener, then it may not be a bargain – but it is value for money.

 

From a big bit of water, to a small one.

Last Friday I went out with a couple of friends to Alport Castles. I’ve been meaning to get here for some time, not having made it when I was in Alport valley last time.

I’ve been promising to take my boy out for a while as well, so I took ben, my friends and their little girl. To make things easier for them, I cut the route down as much as possible and took a simple way up and off the hill.

When I arrived at Ladybower Reservoir, the water was completely calm, like a mirror. It was cool, but not cold. I had made the decision that I would (hold breath for effect)… Wear trainers and jeans! It was the way to go. The weather forecast was perfect, the weather had been dry for a while and the really peaty bits were paved.

The start is a gravel track that runs from the back of the ‘Bridge end’ car park. It’s quite steep, but was manageable for the kids. It quickly runs up into a picturesque pine wood.

Then, my son started to flag.. I was, to say the least, surprised. This kid never stops. I mean it. He is permanently running around, jumping about and generally creating havoc. Soon he moved from ‘I’m tired’ to ‘I can’t go any further’. We might have covered maybe half a mile. I on the other hand, sit on my ass at work all day, don’t get out anywhere as often as I’d like and I’m full of cold. What was going on?

After some brief cajoling he picked up the pace very slightly and we got underway again with me explaining that when we got out of the forest, the path would get much easier.

When we did get out of the forest, the first thing that struck, was the view. It was outstanding. Clear blue sky on a (now quite hot) spring day. The route followed the top of a field, rutted with land rover tracks. It was not so high that the grass had given way to heather, so it was a lush green carpet for quite some way. The view didn’t seem to change much but as it was spectacular, that didn’t matter much.

There was a brief moment of drama when My mate’s girl had a bit of a stumble, but after we confirmed the was no damage, just a bit of (dry and therefore brush-off-able) dirt she was fine. This was in the top of some smaller valley. Just after this we had to negotiate an incredibly high ladder stile.

After a fairly a couple of short breaks, we came to Alport castles. From above it’s impressive, then as you walk down the track, you realise just how big this place is. It is HUGE. I knew it was caused by one of the biggest landslides in the UK, but it really is massive. I had already mentally planned a spot for us to stop and eat. There’s a small tarn just west of the tower. What Google Earth didn’t show was that this spot was sheltered and picture perfect.

There are the remains of a fire pit here, so people have been wild camping here. It maybe a great spot, apart from a couple of issues. The ground is currently so parched that any fire could easily start a big wildfire. I’m not convinced that it’d be a good spot for a fire, even when it’s not as dry as it is currently either.

There were a lot of midges. As soon as I sat down, they were zinging around, annoying me. This was in the hottest part of the day, so in the late afternoon, when you’d be thinking about setting up a wild camp, or in the morning, when you’d be trying to pack up, I reckon they’d be very annoying. At least they weren’t the type that liked to bite.

After some food, an Easter egg hunt and some skimming of stones across the water, it was time to start heading back. This was just as beautiful as the way out, although drinking water started to get low, lower and then ran out when we were getting close to the' ‘tallest stile in the area’.. (not verified) I was still having problems with my son, with him still telling me he was tired, though not as much as on the (uphill) way out.

As we hit the top of the forest track, we stopped and I realised I still had an apple in my bag. Duly split amongst all of us, We wandered back to the car, drove to Ladybower visitor centre, quickly ordered some ice cream and a soft drink. We all sat by the reservoir and a (now sugar’d up) Ben finally perked back up and was running around with gusto again.

Now he confirms he’d love to do it again and I’ve found out why he kept flagging. He’s coming down with a cold as well.

 

 

If you get the chance, this is a great walk, with stunning scenery. Highly recommended by me if you get the chance. It’s also easy to walk and unless you were in a white out, it’d be tricky to get lost.

Review: Fiskars Retractable Hand Saw.

I have been lucky enough to be given my first pieces of kit by Fiskars UK.

The first piece I’m going to look at is a retractable hand saw. Often cited as a vital piece of kit for bushcraft, it allows you to work with medium size pieces of wood for a minimum pack size and weight. The main thing I’ll use this for will be cutting small logs down to size for fires and for getting the raw length of branch when I make spoons.

If you’ve not heard of Fiskars before, Here’s an excerpt of what they have to say about themselves:

 “Established in 1649, Fiskars is the oldest company in Finland. We have worked with tools, cutting and steel forging ever since we first started operating 360 years ago. Our roots are in the Fiskars village, an idyllic center of art & design, where modern aesthetics meet old crafting traditions. Fiskars launched the world’s first plastic-handled scissors in 1967. Since then, these orange scissors have sold more than 1 billion pieces worldwide and their iconic status has resulted in the Fiskars orange being synonymous with scissors across the world. Fiskars is the world’s number one scissor brand.”

 

The saw itself is well made and feels solid. The blade has an orange knob that twists to unlock the blade, which is then pushed out and locked in place by retightening the knob in a small depression at the other end, holding it securely in place.

The blade is 6 inches long (there is also a 10”version and a more traditional folding type as well). When retracted the blade is completely within the housing. The main body is made of plastic (I’m not sure what type, the range is listed as: ‘fibrecomp’. It looks and feels like high impact ABS).

The saw is a steel blade, designed to cut on the pull. With large wide teeth for cutting green, resinous or dead wood, it is (and I mean this) wickedly sharp.

On my kitchen scales it weighs in around 90 grams, so it’s light and is about the same size as the long grip found on some walking poles.

Would I buy one of these?.. Yes. I’ve considered getting a retractable or folding saw for some time, and would have been handy on last years wild camps, so I’m glad I got it. It is a welcome addition to my kit list, small and light enough to go on the ‘might need’ part of my kit lists.

Wild Camp

After I had been on the last winter walk, Jim mentioned he liked carrying everthing we needed because if the weather closed in, we could just pitch for the evening..
I suggested we should go wild camping..
The plan was to get dropped off at the side of the snake pass where it meets the pennine way (Cheers Dad!), Walk up to the crash site on the top of Bleaklow, drop down into Alport Valley, Have a look at Alport Castle and then pitch for the evening in an undisclosed location before being picked up from the main road the next day.

The trip out was unremarkable, so I'll skip that, (NB. the layby at the drop off point is in bad repair so take care not to bottom out your car).


We soon set off for Bleaklow top. The path is clear (it's part of the pennine way) and this is a nice easy walk in nice weather with no kids. Pretty soon we came across the remains of the crashed B-29 Superfortress "Overexposed".

It's the same type of aircraft that dropped the atomic bombs at the end of the second World War. It's strange to walk among what's left. Some parts are shredded, some melted and some perfectly intact. Thirteen men died when the plane crashed but I didn't feel anything odd, In fact I found it quite peaceful and interesting, though I'm sure if the mist rolled in and I was on my own, it would have been completely different.
Continuing on to the top of the hill we stopped for a bit. I stepped up onto the boulder the trig point is set on. Although windy we must have been sheltered as the wind just a couple of feet higher was amazing. It was like being in a convertable or on a motorbike at speed. There were no gusts, just constant, cold, refreshing wind on a (surprisingly) sunny day. I couldn't get enough. I stood there for ages, just letting the wind blow the cobwebs out. Perfect.

As we went back on ourselves, we passed a couple who were coming the other way. I mention them, not because they were memorable but because they were the last people we would see until the next day! (If you don't find this remarkable, I once read that the Peak District National Park is the second busiest in the world - only beaten by Mt Fuji).


The walk down the valley was scenic and obscenely quiet, No other people, not even sheep for the most part. The only other living things were a few birds and a snake thet leapt from the path in front of us (it's nice to know they really are more scared of us!).
(note: From dropping into the valley, to its exit at the main road there is NO phone reception on Vodafone, Orange or T-Mobile, so phone loved ones before you enter the valey!).
The path is ok until you reach the valley proper. It peters out to a sheep track and is hard going walking on a steep slope an a path perhaps 20cm wide. There are patches of bracken that grows to an incredible size. In places it was taller than me and I'm 6'2"..
We were well ahead of time, so we kept stopping for breaks, watching the erm, stream go by as there really is nothing else there!. I kept hearing that 'swishing' noise that you can hear traffic making on a motorway. It took me ages to realise that it was the sound of the wind rushing over the top of the valley.

As I got to within sight of the first of our (several possible) camp sites, we stopped on a bit of a platau and the decision was made to try and get down to river level. This may have been a mistake. Telling the truth, It was a mistake and a fairly big one. We had little visibility of our surroundings, because no one could see over the bracken, and the steep valley sides, just got steeper and steeper. We hit a small stream valley and the floor kept dropping away either in a very steep gradient or in 2 foot steps. Normally not a problem, just tiring. Here the bracken not only blocked the view, it blocked the view of our feet. To make things slightly more intersting the bracken also liked to get wrapped round my boots, trying to trip me up.
Some how we reached the stream without spraining an ankle and the first possible camp site. Very pretty, but buggy and not that discrete. Besides, Jim and Paul wanted to camp in a woods, so we pushed on.

We decided to find the place to pitch and drop off our bags, before walking on to Alport Castles. First we had to find a way into the woods.. They were thick, dark and inpenetrable. Finding a hole big enough for a badger, we pushed in.
Inside, it was warm, quiet and nowhere near as evil as it looked from outside. I had been given a description of how to find the campsite by an online friend. Without directions we'd never have found it.
We came over a small rise and saw our home for the night. Alport castles, Majestic as it is, never stood a chance. It's perfect. It's flat, hidden and someone before us had built a bench and there is a fire pit there too. Just at the side there is a small stream. At first glance this looked filthy, but this was because it is a sandy bottom with a little dirt in it. Not a lot of water comes through it, but what does is clear, not full of tannins from the peat on the hill tops above the valley and for the most part, insect free. It may dry up if it hasn't rained for a while, So don't depend on it, though you could go to the river Alport if your need was great enough. After digging a small depression for the water to collect, and pitching camp (including pitching a tarp I'd brought that we put over the bench). We were totally settled in. We were going nowhere.
The night was great. A fire was lit, though much smaller than previous ones by others as we were not cooking on it. The fire would only be for a bit of heat, light and general 'when would we get the chance to have a fire again'.
There were no 'spooky woods in the middle of nowhere' feelings. We just had some Supper, sat round the fire listened to music, drank our wine and chatted. It was one of those nights that you'd love to have all the time. So we'll have to go back, sooner rather than later.

The walk out was also uneventful, though it's still very wild, with no paths through the bracken other than ones left by animals. The river also has eroded the bank in places so it is slow going until you reach the farmhouse and pick up a dirt road.

An excellent place and all three of us enjoyed this trip thoroughly. As we didn't manage to go round Alport castle, we've the perfect excuse to go again..