Perspective Is A Point Of View.

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A gentle ramble from Hathersage to the heights of Stanage Edge. Part Two.


I sat enveloped by a huge bank of nettles on a wooden bench just outside the shadow cast by Stanage Edge; dazzling blue-bottles buzzed around before joining me on the bench where they glittered like jewels in the hot sunshine. It had taken about two hours at a relaxed pace to reach this spot and the second part of the walk involved an easy ascent up the face of Stanage Edge by one of the many footpaths. I would not be joining the more adventurous band of people climbing the escarpment. 

The shady little wood at the base of Stanage Edge, disappointingly called Stanage Plantation.
I set off, crossed the tarmac road and joined a footpath that rose steadily over clear ground before disappearing into a small wood higher up. I could see some of the many climbers out amongst the crags and rock towers on the face of Stanage Edge.

The crags on the face of Stanage Edge;  from a distance they bring to my mind the statues of Easter Island.

Groups of families and climbing fraternities either sat just off the trail on some of the large rock formations or were walking up toward the ridge, the footpath we were following gained height quickly, snaking between large boulders.

The footpath above Stanage Plantation.
I paused on a large flat rock formation to catch my breath and enjoy the view almost exactly midway up the ridge; below me the moors opened up while above me the escarpment stood like a huge wall.

Stanage Edge looking towards High Neb.
 I soon arrived at the top of the ridge, a strong wind blew from off the moors far below. The views were stunning.

Looking down onto the moors and woodland far below.
The wind felt cleansing, blowing away some of the heavy burden I was carrying in my heart. The physical exertion of the walk had energised me. The emotional hurt was still there but the open vastness of the landscape and sky made it easier to bear, I felt like a small part of this amazing panorama.


Time was starting to be of a concern, I was planning on walking over to High Neb before doubling back but it was growing late in the afternoon and reluctantly I headed along White Path Moss toward the Cowper Stones and Upper Burbage Bridge.


The footpath continued along the ridge with moorland on the left and more fantastic views on the right with weathered rock formations framing the views.



The groups of walkers had thinned out and I had the ridge almost to myself apart from the occasional climber.

A climber resting from their ascent.
By now my main goal was to cover ground, the route I was following from the guidebook ran along the ridge down to where Stanage Edge meets the valley of Burbage Brook with Higger Tor and the Iron Age fort of Carl Wark.



Just before a rocky outcrop called the Cowper Stones I found an Ordinance Survey Column standing out above the rolling landscape. To my mind it looked more like something left behind by the Druids, an altar to some forgotten god.

This column stands at 1,499ft or 457m.
The brisk pace soon brought me to the road along Fiddler's Elbow that form part of the ridge of the valley of Burbage Brook. This was my least favourite part of the walk and could hardly believe that the guidebook recommended walking along this busy and narrow road. Keeping to the verge as best I could and with Higger Tor on my left I found the stile that led down a quiet footpath.

The footpath down Callow Bank that led back to Hathersage village.
The route was now a straight-forward walk down into Hathersage village, the day ending in a pleasant evening stroll down country lanes back to where I had started.


I had started the day needing to lose myself out in the wilderness and now I felt I was returning lighter somehow. A gentle walk with some memorable moments and unforgettable views.

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