Yesterday Jill and I took advantage of access-to-wheels and took up Graham's offer of a lift to Dove Dale in the Peak District. Arriving at just after noon at Beresford Dale we were going to walk the length of Beresford, Wolfescote, Mill and Dove dale and meet our lift some three hours later at the bottom of Dove Dale. Above, the R. Beresford at the very start of our walk: A notice saying Keep out of the river, no fishing, no paddling, no access (GO AWAY you scum)! So I took a photo out of bloody mindedness before turning away and heading in the opposite direction.
Here we go...
Fletcher and Floyd are in doggy heaven, look at all this water to play in. Mudlark aka Muttley makes a valient effort to join in but he doesn't do 'swimming'..
Squeeze stiles in the dry stone wall are no problem for Baxter or Mudlark or for that matter, Fletcher. Floyd is a different case however. It seems that my beloved little man is a dog with special needs, not quite a full picnic in the intelligence stakes. Every stile saw three dogs squeeze through or leap over leaving Floyd bewildered and whimpering the other side... the Dog's an idiot!
By the time we reached the start of Dove Dale (above) the rain had started and the tops of the dales were now in the cloud.
Above bedraggled Jill and Baxter.
A bedraggled Me...
Checking out the Dove Holes (caves) en route.
Above, a drain from a mine?
Now almost at journey's end, the stepping stones across the R Dove. I walked across these, followed by my two dogs - Jill wimped out and walked to the bridge. Who would have looked silly if they had fallen in though?