Stanage Edge, Peak District, Autumn
Perhaps the Peak District’s most famous edge.
Perhaps the Peak District’s most famous edge.
Froggatt Edge and Curbar Edge were epic enough. But further north, above the bonny village of Hathersage, one can find the massive 3.5-mile long Stanage Edge, which peaks at High Neb 458 m (1,503 ft).
Aside from the height and length of Stanage Edge, and its epic views plus incredible rock formations, the escarpment is famous for rock climbing. Any of the crags and rock walls are not particularly high, perhaps up to 25 m in height, but they are challenging and have been tackled extensively from the mid-20th century onwards.
Thankfully access to Stanage Edge is easy courtesy of numerous small, and free, carparks and road laybys. With the addition of high winds and ever-changing light, we enjoyed an epic hike along this most famous Dark Peak edge.
All photos taken on my Sony α7ii using my Sony FE 28–70mm f3.5–5.6 OSS zoom lens. RAWs developed and edited in Lightroom for iPad, with a little finalising help using Darkroom for iPad.
Stanage Edge, Peak District, Autumn by Ian Cylkowski is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
Upon ascending the trail from the off the road, the views immediately open up across the expansive moorland towards Over Owler Tor.
At the trig point 457 m/1,499 ft a. s. l., my Lisabet climbs up to capture those seemingly endless panoramas towards Edale and the Hope Valley.
Smoothed gritstone boulders line the way towards the trig point. Happily, cloud formations above endeavoured to provide another leading line to the trig point.
A drop between two walls provides a nice composition as the light explodes from the clouds, illuminating Over Owler Tor in the distance.
The sun almost completely out, I find a solitary boulder perched precariously on the edge of a gritstone platform.
I crept underneath an overhanging crag that provide me this lovely arrangement of boulders with a view towards Burbage Moor. Fighting the 50+ mph wind gusts, I carefully place the trail below the edge in between the boulders and the crag for a clean leading line.
Further north along Stanage Edge I found a few large gritstone boulders, beautifully smoothed and carved by millennia of erosion. They put me in mind of tortoise shells.
A set of beautifully smooth boulders huddle together against the powerful winds. In the distance, you can just make out Hope Valley with Mam Tor and the Great Ridge rising above.
Lisabet enjoyed making me nervous by standing perilously close to the edge of several severe drops. They did, however, make for excellent photos.
Below Stanage Edge the sharp drop down gives way to miles of fern and bracken, now displaying their rusty autumnal hues as they creep up the escarpment wall.
This was about as close to the edge as I dared, in order to nab a composition with these rock formations, like piles of messily stacked CDs.
Above Hook’s Car, the drop from Stanage Edge is more vertiginous and clearly an area where rock climbers like to upgrade their skills. People to the bottom-left of the image and on top of the edge to the right show the scale of the place.
This was a particularly popular climbing section, with one climber recently ascending to the top of the edge and victoriously pulling up his rope.
From here, it’s actually possible to make out where the White Peak limestone of the Hope Valley gives way to the eastern Dark Peak gritstone.
There were a few of these boulder bridges spanning across gaps that provided lovely little “portal” style compositions to play around with.
Dark Peak landscapes aren’t really known for their caves, like the White Peak is, but there’s a famous one on Stanage Edge: Robin Hood’s Cave, pictured here with people enjoying the shelter and relief from the wind. Did Robin Hood ever rest in this cave? Who knows?
One of my favourite shots from the day, showing the sheer vertical drop down from Stanage Edge, and the full extent of its length into the distance.
Two pillars of gritstone stacks provide another “portal” composition looking across the moorland towards the Peak District’s limestone plateau.
A wider composition, with Stanage Edge continuing on into the distance on the right. In the middle, Bamford Moor gives way to the rolling hills above Derwent Reservoir.
We located one of the main trails down the escarpment and back towards the road. About halfway down, I couldn’t escape this arresting composition. Miles of rusty ferns with Stanage Edge and clouds above.
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Froggatt and Curbar Edges, Peak District, Autumn
If there’s one thing that the Peak District has a lot of, it’s Edges.
If there’s one thing that the Peak District has a lot of, it’s Edges.
The Peak District can roughly be divided into two areas: the White Peak, and the Dark Peak. The naming is based on the underlying geology: the White Park is limestone, and the Dark Peak is gritstone.
You’ll find the Peak District’s edges exclusively in the Dark Peak, particularly the eastern part of the National Park. From below, they appear has formidable walls and cliffs with fantastical rock formations and crags. Beyond those crags usually lies acres of boggy moorland.
On this particular occasion, we decided to explore every nook and cranny of two of the more famous edges: Froggatt Edge and Curbar Edge. They form a near-continuous route, north to south.
The day was bright, much cooler, and clear, save for the creeping clouds that gradually covered the sun as the day went on. Nevertheless, the scenes were absolutely sublime.
All photos taken on my Sony a7ii using my Sony FE 28–70mm f3.5–5.6 OSS and Vivitar “Series 1” 70–210mm f2.8–4.0 zoom lenses. RAWs developed and edited in Lightroom for iPad, finalised in Darkroom for iPad.
Froggatt & Curbar Edges, Peak District, Autumn by Ian Cylkowski is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
Starting from the north, the first part of the walk involves a beautiful woodland, Froggatt Woods, full of silver birch and autumnal ferns.
Emerging out of the woods, the views quickly open up and we find our first clump of gritstone boulders to climb around. Lisabet immediately hopped on one for a better view.
Already my excitement levels build as a veritable playground of compositions and rock formations present themselves to me.
A smooth nook in this boulder provided a nice foreground composition, with other crags forming a lead line towards the distant Upper Derwent Valley.
Lisabet’s woodland elf-like abilities means she easily clambers up to the highest boulder to nab those special photos. For me, her slight frame provides wonderful context for the scene.
An isolated pillar of a crag, whipped into otherworldly shapes by millennia or wind and rain, provides a lovely subject for this composition of heather, tors, and across the valley.
Navigating through the various crags and boulders, a little gap catches my eye. As peep through it, a sheer cliff wall down to the valley floor makes my stomach grip. And of course, I snap a photo to convey this sudden drop.
There’s not much separation between Froggatt and Curbar Edge. However, the drop from Curbar Edge is even more severe. This gap between two walls of gritstone provides a lovely leading line towards Baslow Edge in the distance.
Clambering on top of the some of the crags, these beautifully smoothed boulders with deep fissures provide a paradise of compositions, which I line up with Baslow Edge far away.
The staggeringly sheer drop down from the top of Curbar Edge is a sensation I’ll never forget.
This was about as close as I dared to the edge of the precipitous fall to the valley bottom from Curbar Edge.
A stronger burst of sun pulls out all the detail and texture in these windshaped crags.
The amount of heather up on Curbar and Froggatt Edge makes me realise that I need to come back here in late summer, when the heather’s vibrant magenta flowers will carpet the landscape.
Two neighbouring boulders, blasted by wind and rain for millennia, give another gorgeous composition to shoot as stronger sunlight emerges.
Quarrying has occurred on the Peak District’s various edges for centuries. The hard-wearing gritstone made for great millstones, used to grind grain like oats, barley and rye or other feedstuffs.
A lady rests in a nook on Curbar Edge, taking in the panoramic views whilst talking on her phone. She gave the scene a wonderful sense of context and scale that I couldn’t ignore.
Another isolated pinnacle of gritstone catches my eye. As the sun emerges again from the clouds, I line up this composition, using the various boulders to point a zigzagging route to the pinnacle.
Great slabs of gritstone with fissures and covered in lichen allow me to draw another composition looking north as the sun bathes the scene.
After we stopped from lunch using a boulder as shelter, we head back north along the trail. I equip my longer 70–210 mm lens to try and nail some zoomed in, tighter compositions. Here, from the edge, I zoom in on Stony Middleton nestled in its deep limestone gorge.
I enjoyed zooming in on the fell side as it caught the light; the land neatly divided by drystone walls, as a contrast to the pillars of rough gritstone.
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The Roaches & Lud’s Church, Peak District, Autumn
We’re in the Peak District in the fortnight!
We’re in the Peak District for a fortnight!
The last time we explored the Peak District was way back in May 2015. Even then, it was only for a long weekend.
After a gentle Saturday spent enjoying the sights and sounds of Buxton, we embarked on a more strenuous Sunday; a 10km hike along the Roaches to the summit, then down into Back Forest to explore the chasm of Lud’s Church.
20,000+ steps, 1,184 ft of ascent and 1,178 ft of descent. My feet are paying the price.
Totally worth it though.
All photos shot on my Sony α7ii using my Sony FE 28–70mm f3.5–5.6 OSS zoom and Rokinon 14mm f2.8 ED AS IF UMC prime lenses. RAWs developed in Capture One for iPad, finalised in Lightroom for iPad.
The Roaches & Lud's Church, Peak District, Autumn by Ian Cylkowski is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
The steepest and most sheer of the Roaches’ crags are at the southeastern end. In the distance, the pyramidal shape of Hen Cloud (410 m/1,315 ft) can be seen, an outlier of the Roaches separated by a col.
The Roaches are especially popular at the weekends. It’s easy to see why. Apart from hikers and freerunners, these crags attract climbers and boulderers seeking challenging projects to tackle.
To get on the trail above the Roaches, we followed the smaller trail below them and through this beautiful autumnal woodland, once the site of an old quarry.
It’s a long way down. Although the day was hazy, and unreasonably warm for an October day (20ºC), the views from the Roaches are extensive.
Looking northeast towards the Five Clouds, with a sheer drop down to the valley in front of me. Beautiful autumnal colours are just starting to emerge.
The name of this area, the Roaches, comes from the French les roches, meaning “the rocks”. These crags are made of a coarse sandstone called gritstone, deposited millions of years ago as part of an ancient river delta. Over time the surrounding landscape eroded away, leaving these isolated crags standing tall.
From the summit, 505 m above sea level, the 360º views are extensive. Beyond these crags you can make out the smaller ridge above Back Forest.
Passing through the crags on our way down to Back Forest, I spot a young couple staging a precarious “cliffhanger” for a photo.
These two windswept crags provided a wonderful frame of the distant hill towards Congleton.
The last of these overhanging crags must provide a wonderful challenge for boulders and climbers.
Our route involves a sharp drop down to the col. At this point, we’d follow the trail down to Back Forest. Our next destination was the epic Lud’s Church.
We gingerly navigated the extremely muddy path through Back Forest until, eventually, we found the way down to the chasm of Lud’s Church. Before getting down to the bottom, a small slot to the side catches my eye for a photo.
And here, we’re down to the bottom of Lud’s Church. This is a 60ft chasm in the woods of Back Forest, caused by a huge landslip in the Gritstone bedrock. Even on a warm October day, Lud’s Church is wet, dark, and refreshingly cool. It is also rather muddy.
You may be wandering about the name. This chasm has Christian history. A group of Christian reformers, the Lollards, apparently used this place to worship in the early 15th century. It may have been named after a Walter de Ludank/Walter de Lud-Auk, who was captured here at one of the aforementioned “services”.