Fortuitous Peaks - A weekend in the peak district

Written by Tristan Harding - Photos by Tristan Harding & Steven Braybrook

Part of my ethos about my new adventure bike riding lark is that I believe you don't necessarily have to go to far flung places to experience some great riding, there is plenty to be found right here in the UK too. Sure there are certain things that you won't get, such as the drastic culture changes, the different languages and foods (though some localised specialities can be sampled throughout the UK) and other such perks of longer distance travels, but you sure can get a varied ride out with some beautiful scenery right on home soil.

This was proven correct again with a weekend trip up to the Peak District earlier this year at the end of February in to the start of March. Around this time there had been some heavy storms and flooding had only just started to relent around the Peak District, so this somewhat restricted some of our planned off-road routes, however there was still plenty of action on and off road to keep us entertained.

Day One – It started with a sputter. not a bang

The ride up to the Peaks was sodden, bitter and blustery, I rendezvoused with Steve in the usual petrol station on the A1 Northbound, where I arrived rather frozen fisted due to my poor choice in gloves. We discussed doing a Fred Astaire and calling the whole thing off, but after a warming my hands round a cup of Costa coffee and switching to more appropriate glove attire, we decided to hold out hope on the prospect of the weather lady being truthful with her promise of the wind dying down and rain abating and headed out.

It was clear, however, as we came off the main drag along with the hills rolling up around us, that things weren't getting better. We went stubbornly onwards, ascending in to hillside behind Chatsworth house, but with temperatures hovering around 0 degrees Celsius, the chill in our bones and slush of snow remaining on the road, it was clear that discretion was the better part of valour and we should retire to warm up with some lunch and chalk up the days plans as a loss.

And like just like that, our day was to be over, but not before slipping down the decent at Cubar Edge and in to Bakewell to savour a 'Bakewell pudding' and take a chance to warm up with lunch in a pub, before slowly retreating to our cozy B&B cottage at Tansley, where we had the fortune to be staying at a fellow bikers house who sympathised with our plight and found us a clothes rack, some tarp and put the heater on to help dry out our sodden kit. We drowned our sorrows to a delightfully charming vintage record player, complete with hit's of the 1920's through to the 1940's (my particular favourite titled Music, Martini's and Memories) and dreamt of a drier tomorrow.

Day Two – Have a little faith in me

As Dolly Parton more recently said, "Have a little faith in me" which were the same words I uttered to Steve at the petrol station the day prior when deciding to carry on regardless of the weather, and boy was I lucky that we awoke to dry skies and only wind to contend with in the morning of day two.

The plan for today was to take in around 180 miles of travelling, taking in back roads and some off-road trails. This trip was planned as getting a lay of the land for future trips, so my idea was to try and cover as much area of the Peak District as possible to see what kind of riding could be found and familiarise myself with the area. In a way it was lucky that I had to discount some of the day's off-road sections due to the severe flooding that struck the area recently as I don't think we would have got around all the planned riding and saved us from what surely would have been slippery bog and mud.

This would be the first 'proper' outing on our bikes for some off-road and little did I know how slow we'd be hitting the ruts and dirt for the first time outside the small, short and relatively easy lanes we'd tried before. This was extremely apparent as we approach our first planned lane which was a mix of old cobble with fish-heads sticking out of old cement and chunky rocks, which I'm not afraid to say made me feel out of depth immediately as I paddled up the majority of the lane, with Steve gung-ho in front at a steady, but slow pace.

Luckily there was some way until the next lane, with pleasant rolling hillside to climb and a gentle dirt lane with the odd water filled hole to remind you it wasn't tarmac. This provided a calm ride to steady my nerves before we arrived at a lovely confidence inspiring lane above Hathersage. The lane was a couple of miles long and terrain mixed with gravel and sandy mud with a little challenge to it with it's origins being a long forgotten broken up road of the past in the days before tarmac, however I found my inner Nick Sanders and began to really get in to my stride, even getting up to 40mph on the Himilayan before getting over-confident and getting myself in to a big moment towards the end of the lane, jumping a rock at the end of the my line which had disappeared and over a rut filled with large stones to get over to the other side, I can only thank the bike for not throwing me off like a bucking broncho, but it did put me back in my place and back to a point of confidence, without being over confident for the rest of the day.

Our revised plan for the day was to head out up to Castle Hill, just outside Huddersfield, unfortunately as mentioned earlier the area had experienced severe flooding so this curtailed our ideas of getting stuck in to trails which already had a reputation for being challenging in better weather. Luckily I'd already planned alternative routes around most of the lanes I thought might be sketchy for us novices anyway and we enjoyed a relaxing ride North taking in some splendid views of the East side of the Peaks with roads rolling up and down the hills providing engaging switchbacks and turns, passing the many dams dotted about the landscape.

We arrived at Castle Hill to an unexpectedly dramatic view of Huddersfield and beyond which we revelled in being two of a handful of people at this land mark on such a fine day (aside from the howling, chilly wind). We took a welcome break (and many pictures) before heading back in to the Northern side of the Peaks to continue our journey.

Yesterday's snow and and the accent out of Holme to it's Moss Summit could have fooled us for being somewhere far-flung. With the 70 miles an hour, associated wind chill bringing the temperature down to the minus on top of the Summit you could easily be fooled in to thinking you were a-top a much higher mountain anywhere in the world.

It's amazing just how many reservoirs there are in this area of England, in the next leg of the trip we happen upon around ten which pass no more than a few hundred meters of our route as we dive down the hill from Holme and skirt the reservoirs on the way to Glossop where we stopped for a spot of lunch (only to be told it's crisps or nothing at the bar) as we dive off at the bottom of the hillside on the A6024 to the B6105 for some space to breathe away from the traffic.

As we headed down a slightly underwhelming Snake Pass, limited to 50 and stuck behind traffic often struggling to keep 40, I couldn't help but wonder if we would be lucky enough to ride to the end of the Derwent (and Howden - where the Dambusters practised during WW2) dam as the views were sure to be magnificent with the large body of water flanked by hills hiding behind trees. Luckily our luck was in and it seems that off-season the road is opened til the end for vehicles as well as pedestrians and we were able to bimble along behind slow cars that gave us a chance to take it all in.

After finding some peace and having refreshed ourselves it was onward to Mam Tor via the small back road that bounces and twists between the little rural villages and hops across the old railway line that lines the quieter approach to the Northern side of the 1696ft tall hill. Round the bend and over the bridge at Barber Booth, the road up to Mam Tor suddenly appears in sight as it rises up the side of the hill. I've ridden this steep accent once before on a push bike and I have to say in my minds eye, I remember it looked less steep pedalling up it than it did atop the Himalayan. You can also find, just after the crest of the hill to the East, the old Mam Tor section of the A625 road which was eventually closed in the 1970's due to land slides, the old torn up road used to be a permissible byway for motorised vehicles, however now just lies as a place for tourists to gawp in awe at the forces of nature.

Finally after Mam Tor we had our next trail in sight, the Hill at Abney leading to Bradwell, a fairly sedate ride up hill on a gravel road leading to a steep stony decent, the first time I've had the sensation of a loose bike going down something quite steep, however I quite enjoyed the experience and the bike proved yet again how it was far more superior to the rider on it as it took the odd drop-off and loose terrain in its stride, with me holding on and shifting to where I thought I should be over the bike, like a young man getting his hands on a woman for the first time.

With the daylight closing in fast and craving more off-road action we beelined over towards Buxton where I hoped we'd find yet another different trail. Our destination was the Fernlee Reservoir, across which we would find our next lane, and what a beautiful lane it was, as the sun began to descend in to the late afternoon we discovered this was what is commonly called a fire road, with a surface of mostly fine powered and smaller gravel which swooped along the hillside above the dam along a glorious coniferous forest. With only one more lane to go, we pulled over for a break to savour a good days riding, little did we know what was in store just a moment further on down the road...

Our next trail was classed as an Unclassified County Road (UCR), usually these are little back roads that, in my experience, are usually either broken up tarmac roads or better. Macclesfield Old Road going in to Buxton however, was the exception to this rule. Clearly another old ancient road, but much worse for wear than our previous such lane of similar origin earlier. This trail starts off OK, some chunky loose stones and mud at worst, but then comes a short and sharp decent with stone steps flanked by those pesky loose stones and a stream of flood water draining across it. At this point I tell Steve over the comms that this looks a little gnarly for me, so I want to walk the route, Steve however promptly cuts back with a jovial insult for stopping and bravely trundles past on his own line. It looks like his brash move would make me look sillier than I already felt, but then about 100 meters past where I stopped, Steve's bike starts bouncing along, slides from under him and slams to the ground.

I rushed down on foot to help him up. Luckily Steve and his bike were OK, both being a little shaken after this sudden slip and I decide to paddle cautiously down the slippery stone steps to just beyond where he fell. Luckily the trail flattens out and only a few more meters of the nasty stuff remained before the trail became easier on the way in to Buxton. This was to be the end of our days adventure, some well earned food at a nearby pub and back to our cottage, but the day wasn't truly over yet.

Exiting The Cheddar Cheese pub in Buxton it began to snow softly as we made our way over to unlock the bikes. There was a distinct chill in the air as the wind swirled around the car park, but nothing to indicate just how exciting the ride back to the cottage would be, however by the time we would make it back, we would had navigated what can only be described as a blizzard as the snow became a flurry, powered by fierce winds which pounded us on the ride back. Weary and thankful for getting back in one piece, we headed in to dry off, warm up and rest for the short ride on Sunday before parting ways.

Day Three – Just one more lane before we go

Before scarpering home straight away I'd planned to do some more riding in the morning around some lanes over the South-West side of the Peaks, but with the recent flooding and most routes predicted to be grass and mud, I decided that an easy ride on-road down the back lanes might be a more relaxing and enjoyable ride, rather than lugging our loaded bikes through endless trails of mud and struggle.

Luckily I always have a plan B for each byway or rough road that I plot, so it was easy enough to follow a shadow of what should have been, still taking in some beautiful rolling scenery, bopping along bumpy back roads and twisting up and down hairpin bends along the hill-sides. I also take my route planning seriously and research every road I intend to go down to make sure that I have a good idea of what I should be getting myself in to (Macclesfield Old Road aside), so was able to put in some of the rough and narrow roads that were on the previous plan in to ensure some sense of adventure.

A relaxing day's riding began by heading out towards Stanton in Peak where we wound our way down a steep decent through a farm, with the morning sun shining on us, down past Over Haddon where the scenery would make you believe you were in a JRR Tolkien book if it wasn't for the gentle thudding of our engines beneath us. The only event to occur before arriving at our next destination of Ecton was for me to slip clumsily on some mud whilst getting off the bike to open a gate, luckily for me Steve was close behind to come to my rescue.

Ecton is a beautiful little gem which can be found along the Manifold way, which is now a mostly pedestrianised walking route which runs down the valley of the Manifold River on the South-West side of the Peak District. It's nothing overly special, but it is one of the only points along this route where cars and bikes can still ride along, given that we did this trip in the off-season it we were able to take advantage of the quaint surrounding and appreciate the river cutting between the hills. One bonus is that you can ride down one side of the valley and cut across at Dale Farm to go back the other way, this time looking down at where you have been, it's a very relaxing atmosphere.

Heading out Southwards and taking the undulating detour around the pedestrianised route towards Grendon would take us to the last of the mornings back roads along the top of the valley before heading off on a more direct route to a small pub for lunch before parting ways and heading for home and like that another weekend adventure was over.

I love the Peak District and have been up there a few more times since writing this article and found many more off-road lanes and places to visit, though there is still lots more to be discovered! Especially since world was engulfed by Covid-19 shortly after this trip, so each visit since has been more about the ride than any destinations, so I still plan to head up again when it's all over to visit some of the places/attractions on my to-do list.

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