As usual I’d planned badly and found myself heading to the Peak District at the wrong time, mid afternoon.
The drive to Mam Tor seemed to take hours, off the M60 through Stockport, then onto the A6 where urban sprawl gently begins to give way to countryside. I passed small towns and villages; Hazel Grove, High Lane, Disley, Buxworth, Chapel-en-le-Frith, the landscape became more rugged and desolate, little in the way of human life, just stone walls thick with lichen, moors and sheep.
As I approached the Edale Valley the weather took a turn for the worst, a thick fog descended without warning, how much further I wondered? No sense of the boundary of the road remained, my only reference point the rear lights of cars ahead, barely visible.
The fog was at pea-soup level (very much a non meteorological term) when I eventually arrived at the Blue John Cavern. At least I’d arrived unscathed, but suffice to say I couldn’t see a thing in any direction. Thinking the whole trip was a complete waste of time I nearly turned back, but as if on cue the fog started to clear to reveal a very dramatic Mam Tor, it’s ridgeline still shrouded in mist.
I quickly setup my Fuji GW690II and exposed a frame of Kodak Portra, and I was glad I’d waited. After a while a small group of walkers passed me on their way up the hill, smiling and nodding as they went. I watched them go out of shot through my viewfinder then made a cup of tea.
Then two couples, each wearing trainers (totally wrong footwear) appeared from as if from nowhere and asked if they were heading in the right direction for Mam Tor. “It’s this hill here”, I said pointing, “but you don’t want to go up that way it’s too steep”. “We’ll be OK mate” said the wearer of the most pristine trainers. I doubted that, but waved them on their way regardless.