Monday, 28 March 2011

Yomping, air crashes and lizards!

Today for whatever reason I decided was the day I would go in search of the wreckage of a flying fortress which crashed near bleaklow on the moors between Sheffield and Glossop.
I'm an idiot!
I did a little research as to the best route to take and it was decided by the majority of people that it is a good 3 hour yomp across boggy peat and moorland. The best way to get to it according to my research is from Glossop.
I looked at google earth and decided everybody else was wrong, what were they thinking, all you have to do is park up at the summit of the A57 and walk along the the pennine way for a couple of miles then hang a left. It's at this point my inner voice was telling me not to be an idiot, there is a reason everybody else goes the other way. I was not going to listen to me, nobody else does so why the hell should I. So with heavy camera bag in hand off I set to the summit of the A57.
When I reached the summit to my surprise there was a helicopter parked on the grass. I'm sure there are signs up there that say don't park on the verges or something along those lines but this was a helicopter. Looking around there were packages of heather bundled into big  bright white bags that were deposited all over the moor.
Right then, off I yomp! The great outdoors! after about the first hundred yards I was beginning to think what was so bloody great about it. I lost my phone signal so google earth wouldn't work so id have to guess when to turn left. bugger! this part of the world is not the friendliest, even on a pleasant day it is a rock strewn peat bog with a bit of heather. Some of the views were nice though despite the big white bags all over the place.
After a mile or so and well out of sight of the car by now I came across a pile of stones in the middle of the path, now I was really exploring, a big pile of stones and one of them had an arrow on it. I felt like that Edmund Hillary chap. Bagsta the explorer, Indiana Bagsta and the pile of stones. Not quite got the same ring as a Hollywood block buster movie but I guess the book is always better than the film. So they say anyway. There THEY are again. Just who the hell are they and why do they keep appearing on my blog?


I Followed the pennine way for about another mile, up hill downhill across rivers (well a small stream) and even met other idiots who were out walking in this desolate place.
Ramblers, now they are a weird bunch. three times I passed ramblers, every time I exchanged a polite hello they would ask in a very excited voice if id seen any hares. The same bloody question. by the third time the only answer I could come up with was only the ones on the back of my hands which was about as welcome a comment to these people as if id told them to fuck off and stop being so cheery.
As you can tell by this point I was losing the will to live and so had to admit that all those other people who said to go from Glossop were right. Bastards, I can see them all laughing at my expense as I slowly trudged back to the car looking for hares. All I saw was a bloody lizard of some sort.
Hopefully I have learned a lesson from this and in future will take the advice of others but I can't really see me doing that can you? I intend by the end of this week to have located the crash site and taken some photographs of it so watch this space. Well not this space but the space that will be created when I post an update about having found it. In the meantime here is a photograph of the area I was yomping across.



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