Striding

Stake Hill Road

This morning I needed to get out of the city, be in the countryside, burn off some calories by undertaking a long circular walk. Breathe in some country air and be alone with my thoughts.

Trouble is, during my retirement I have walked everywhere within shouting distance of Sheffield - every geographical square and pretty much every public footpath. So I have to keep going back to places. None of the thrill of virgin territory but at least I get my steps in - thousands of them. I took my camera too.

My sleek Puddingmobile - a gun metal grey Nissan Juke called Butch - transported me to Hollow Meadows on the A57. Then I turned up Rod Hill and deposited Butch in a little pull-in where I have parked several times before. It's safer to leave my metal companion off the narrow road.

With boots on, I set off on the first day of October in glorious sunshine. The temperature was mild. Fluffy white banks of cumulus clouds lolloped in a north easterly direction, further into Yorkshire. I strode along a moorland track called Stake Hill Road where many of the old drystone walls are ill-maintained these days. There's far less sheep farming than there was in times gone by so there's no practical reason for repairing the walls.

Down into the Bradfield Valley where Dale Dyke Reservoir sprawls innocently trying to keep its terrible secret quiet. It was on the night of March 11th 1864 that its dam burst and three million cubic metres of water surged down the valley to Sheffield causing some 240 deaths and  the destruction of 600 homes.

Then along the valley and up towards Sugworth Hall. I took a rest on a wooden stile and closed my eyes in the honeyed sunshine for five minutes before schlepping up to Boot's Folly. By the way, the Yiddish verb "to schlep" does not have to involve carrying anything. It can just describe slow movement - rather like trudging along.

And then Boot's Folly appeared. Sometimes called Boot's Tower, I have blogged about it before. It occupies a prominent position at the head of the valley. In this picture you can see Dale Dyke Reservoir below...

Soon my circle was complete. Back at Butch I ate an orange and an apple and swigged water from my flask as I read a chapter of "All Together Now?" which no doubt I will review when I have finished it. It continues to engage me.

Then back to Sheffield where I was in time to pick Phoebe up from her school playground. The teacher told me she had been involved in some naughtiness at lunchtime with a classmate - barring some new reception children from the Y1 toilets. Naturally we had words as we walked back up the hill to our house.

The last photograph I snapped today was of Bent's Farm on the edge of the moors. Whimsically, I have often thought that if I ever became wildly rich, that is where I would like to live - in glorious peace but only half an hour from Sheffield city centre. No doubt "The Laughing Horse" Blogging Awards Party would take place there every New Year's Eve.