We arrived in Edale a lot later than expected, thanks to the sat nav sending us on the scenic route. With it being the bank holiday weekend we hadn't actually managed to get booked into a campsite and were taking our chances at being let in somewhere on the day, and luck was on our side when we rolled up to Field Head campsite. We pitched up, made a brew then set off.
Just a few hundred yards from our start point we came across a big ginger dog sh*t, complete with a fly. I took a photo, but I'll refrain from posting it. It seems like there's just no escaping these people.
Without our great big packs on our backs, we soon found we were motoring along nicely and were at the foot of Jacobs Ladder in no time at all. This presented us with the perfect opportunity to test out Bob's new water filter, filling our bottles from the stream, and it tasted just as good as the tap water we'd just emptied from them.
Lunch was taken atop some boulders, where we were treated to fantastic views that the fog had completely obscured on our last visit.
Our aim this time was to get to Kinder Downfall then turn back, but we were making such good progress that we decided to try and complete the route. The weather was just right; warm and sunny, though the clouds would come over just as the sun threatened to get too hot.
We arrived at Kinder Downfall, which in truth was a bit anticlimactic (we had been expecting some Niagara Falls-esque waterfall) and were getting on at a fine speed- then we hit the bogs.
Out of nowhere the path started to get muddy. Then it started to get very muddy. In our infinite wisdom we decided to ascend the sides of the mini ravine that formed the path, thinking the ground must be better higher up. How wrong we were. We were in the middle of peat bogs. There was no point trying to walk on this terrain, you just started to sink, so we ran from one rare piece of decent ground to the next, our boots going in past the ankle with every step. A few heroic jumps were required at the worst bits.
The terrain slowed us down tremendously, and all of a sudden time was disappearing fast and we wondered if we would ever get out of these damned bogs, but thanks to my GPS and The Walking Englishman's route, at least we knew we were heading in the right direction.
Eventually we did come to the other side and were back on terra firma once more. We still had some way to go though, so when the opportunity presented itself to cut a corner off our route we took it, only to find ourselves faced with another bloody hill which was twice as hard to come down the other side of as it was to go up.
It was almost a joy to see the ginger dog sh*t again (though now it looked like it had been trodden in), as like a homing beacon it marked our proximity to our journeys end, and we went straight into the pub for a well deserved pint. The bogs had really taken it out of us, though that said we still made it round the route in a respectable five hours.
It was back to camp for a shower- drying ourselves on our t-shirts since we had forgotten to bring towels- then off out for tea and more beer.
It was just gone eight o'clock when we left the campsite, but the sun was still shining and the beer garden at the front of The Rambler Inn was full of like-mined people enjoying a good meal and a pint. We joined them for a few, then had a wander to the other end of Edale to The Old Nags Head, then back down the Rambler's.
By eleven o'clock we were knackered and decided to call it a night, thankful for Bob remembering to bring his head torch for the walk home as the streets of Edale were pitch black.
Despite a late rise in the morning, we managed to make time for a bacon butty and a coffee in The Penny Pot cafe before heading back home to clean the peat off our boots and trousers.
I couldn't have wished for a better birthday.
Field Head Campsite
The Rambler Inn
The Old Nags Head
