And then the snow came . . .

I don't remember the last time I've lived somewhere with snow on the ground for so long, not including short stays in the Alps and elsewhere that is.

It started falling properly last Monday 2nd February, I left Manchester with continuous snow falling but not settling. As I travelled up the Hope Valley the snow increased in intensity until I arrived at home in Grindleford.

The snow was falling heavily back in Grindleford and I gratefully accepted a lift into the village that night. Once in the village, all sorts of mayhem was afoot! Traffic Police controlling the flow on the Hathersage road, with a large oil lorry stuck at the top of the Sir William Hill, and one car that had already been unable to halt itself in the snow and had hit the wall on the other side of the junction.

After all this drama, the following day was one of peace and quiet after the village received none of the usual traffic through it, and most didn't make it to work due to the treacherous roads. Children were out playing, sledging was in full flow on the perfect sledge field out of Froggatt woods.

For me, preceding this fall and after the fall, it led to some fantastic runs in the snow almost in solitude, passing only a few other runners. I got out for some great runs across the top of Froggatt and Curbar Edges.

A run on the Thursday in particular was spectacular, with fresh snow falling as I made my way up through the snow laden branches of the silver birch woods, with no one around except our springer spaniel, Dylan.

Once I'd made the push up the hill onto the top, via the road over Curbar gap, I set out across the top as the weather closed in. Stormy snow clouds drifted in and soon obliterated the usual fantastic views across the Hope Valley. The isolation I found in these clouds reminded me of winter climbing trips in Scotland, were often you have no more than 5 meters visibility, but the muffled sounds become eerie companions.

Jumping down the stone slabs that take you from the Curbar area of the edge to the Froggatt plateau, I have to take care to place my feet carefully. Drifts of snow cover rocks and possible ankle twisting scenarios. As I approach these rocks I pass two other runners coming up from Froggart, they too seem to be enjoying the relative isolation as much as I am.

I open up once on the Froggatt plateau and suck in the cold air, feeling my legs warm up in the falling snow as my pace quickens. My Innovate shoes are sticking to the snow as the applied pressure of the shoes melts the snow and then refreezes as I lift my shoes, letting in the cold air. This provides a strange sensation and noise as I make my way through the already surreal environment.

I cross the road and into the Longshaw Estate woods, dash across the stream and sprint up the last small hill before the descent into Grindleford. Again, taking care to place my feet onto solid ground, I pace down the hill and back to the sounds of sledging and children's laughter in the village. I love where we live.

The snows are going now, after being on the ground for almost two weeks. I don't remember the last time we had snow around for so long. They've provided some fun for children and adults alike over the last few weeks, but as they recede you start to think of Spring again.

I am sure there more cold snaps to come, well I hope so as I have a winter climbing trip planned to Scotland in March. But, this visit of snow will be remembered by me and many others for years, the snows that brought London to a standstill for several days.

The Good Life

It's grey, wet but not particularly cold. The Froggatt Woods have now reached that splendid purple that they cloak themselves in during the winter months.

We've had a pleasant weekend and preceding week living in what we are finding more and more the perfect surroundings of Grindleford village.

During the week, there was a planned, but sadly postponed, first social drinks meeting of the Grindleford Train Clubb. A group of people with whom I share my hour journey into work with, whittering about all sorts from capital punishment to Pierce Brosnan's performance in Mamma Mia!

Instead of the planned night out, we spent a few hours round our neighbours hours drinking mulled wine in truly festive style while a collection of young children ran riot around the house. Discussing possible fell running plans, cycling and climbing with people who share the same passions.

This weekend has been spent making our Christmas presents for family and friends. So far there has been Hearty Ale Chutney, Onion Marmalade and Bramley Lemon Curd. There's blackberry & apple jam and shortbreads to come.

There something very satisfying, particularly when budgets are tight, about making presents. After two days of work in the kitchen there are a collection of fantastic looking preserves that we are going dispense in just a few days.

Thanks has to be passed to Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall and Pam Corbin for the book Preserves:River Cottage Handbook 2, a great publication that combined with another book or two has provided us with all of our recent preserves recipes.

Well, by the time I get round to another post, Christmas will have been and gone, so all there is left is for me to wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Winter Takes Hold

Well winter is here and with it have come the usual colds, coughs and ailments.

The Froggart woods are still in that sad transition phase, where the colour from the autumn leaves has now left, but the decaying leaves are still grey and decomposing on the floor.

The Silver Birch that dominate the woods haven't yet reached that state of winter glory where they turn a deep purple at their extremities and a ghostly silver on the trunk.

My fell running has dropped off a little having had too many weekends away recently in urban environments and the inevitable festive over indulgence that goes with those trips. Something I hope to make up for with a good run this weekend, if I can shake this cough a little more.

The village is preparing for the winter months as well, we have a visiting ice rink on the sports field this weekend with a winter market thrown in for good measure.

As I type, I'm hoping my delivery of logs for the fire is about to turn up to add that comfort that a real fire brings to a home over winter.

My photography has dropped to an all time low sadly. Note to self, must get round to getting a new camera for next year and ensure a refresh the photographic element of my online presence.

A friend was up recently I was sold on the Canon G10 as an interim between buying a new DSLR. A great little camera that can produce high quality shots and with a decent wide angle to the lens that always help with landscape photography.

Anyway I want to finish with a toast to another season that is about envelope us with is bracing winds and cold temperatures, here's to winter.

Fungi Finding with Friends

I spent last weekend, searching the local woods for fungi with some friends who were up to stay with us for the weekend.

Armed with our trug and identification guides with explored the inner depths of Froggatt and the surrounding woods over a period of a few hours.

This was my first real concerted effort to acquire fungi for free, I've been a seasonal fruit collector for several years now. Collecting enough fruit to make chutneys, jams and jelly's for my family at Christmas and the odd fruit crumble.

What a great day we had, trudging through the less explored parts of the woods, clambering over brambles that seem to be there to generally discouraged progress towards hidden secrets well of the beaten path. Hidden water runs and tumbled down buildings, heavily laden with moss and undergrowth, twisted Oaks shaped over years of seeking sunlight and yet more brambles.

From our hunting we found Chanterelle, Cep, Brown Bolete and Yellow Brittle Gills. We took our veritable feast of fungi home to carefully establish their identity for certain.

After some careful identification, dissection and disagreement on features we reduced our trug full of funghi to a small pile of about seven mushrooms that had passed the "will not cause severe kidney disorder" or maggot test.

Gently fried with some garlic we munched our meagre collection with smiles of an afternoon that couldn't have been better spent.

I endeavour to embellish this day further with photos of the fungi we encountered at some point in the not to distant future.

Seasonal Talk

I've been here before and I am sure I'll visit here again in the future, but a seasonal change is yet again upon us.

The summer has been poor in anyone's eyes, with a brief glimpse of the sun only a few times this year in England. It stayed warm for a while, but there was only a small number of days when the sun tanned the skin.

But, as Summer draws to a close I look forward with anticipation what winter will bring. Scottish weekends in knee deep snow and ice (for at least the 6 hours it lasts!), cold nights and log fires.

The leaves are turning on the trees everyday as I watch them in the woods near our home, yellowing with the cooler weather and gradually falling to form that compost that will invigorate Spring next year.

In only a few weeks bare patches will appear in the woods where all the leaves have dropped, returning the silver birch from their current green ocean of colour to a purple haze of branches that adorns them during their restful winter months.

I am already very late in ordering my wood for the fire, I should have ordered it back in Spring to allow it a warm Summer to dry properly, but we were unsure where we would be living this winter. But with the falling house market, falling fast than the leaves themselves, we are sitting tight in our rental accommodation with the hope of being able to pick up a better value home next year.

Roll on Winter, I for one love the season as much as Summer . . .