Well hasn’t this been a fine summer so far. Blue skies, warm sun and dry as anything.
In truth this is pretty typical Dark Peak weather, probably typical British summer weather although I am sure come winter the weather men will be telling us what a dry year it was with below average rain fall and above average temperatures. The heating came on last night of its own accord, but I may have got the thermostat set a little high.
Wet weather in the Peak District National Park just means two things really, fewer pictures and muckier boots. Dark Peak and White Peak offer up different aspects of the muddy boots. In Dark Peak its peat, liquid now with all the rain, so it’s up to your thighs in the stuff. It takes some getting out of too, all that water creates a suction effect. There is no getting around it in times like these. The path across Howden Moor on PB Walk 16 in Dark Peak Walks will be an absolute delight now. You are not going along that without falling flat on your face in a peat bog and coming out looking like a character from a 60’s horror movie.
I once got stuck in a grough. I was an idiot for going down into it in the first place and remember thinking as much as I slithered down its banking, the peat folding like wet chocolate cake beneath my feet. At the bottom which had a surface as slick and shiny as gloss black paint my boots went into the peat and just carried on going down further and further until I was in up to my, well it would not have done to unzip my flies!
I was stuck and with nothing to claw at the only way out was a sort of rocking to and from, each rocking motion accompanied with a slight raising of a leg. Then, prostrating myself across the surface I peat swam out, rising panic, flailing arms, slightly hysterical squealing.
But I was not finished. I still had to get out of the grough. The only way I could do it was to kick steps as in winter mountain walking and jab my fingers into the grough wall. It was like ice climbing in a way, maybe I had invented a new sport. Grough climbing. Near the top my peaty fingers grabbed the flimsiest piece of heather and pulled. It’s strong stuff heather and can hold a huge amount of weight. Only this time it didn’t and I flew backwards, smacking straight into the liquid peat at the bottom with a satisfying slap.
I think I may have cried at that point, not sure really, but it is probable. Long story short, it took me the best part of 30 minutes to get out.
It was not elegant. But it is a good story to tell. Dark Peak gives you that.