The usual select bunch of athletes plus a few impetuous youngsters set out on this cold "blue moon" night. The delights of Piddock wood were mooted but in a rare bout of common sense, it was decided that we should venture up towards Derwent Edge instead. The run started well, although Capt. H. managed to lose his way within half a mile meaning we had to climb a barbed wire topped wall. Nothing discouraged, we set off towards the edge and the now strengthening blizzard which was lashing in sideways causing the ensemble to run like crabs to avoid being well scoured! The snow and wind was too much for the older generation (specifically Mr Holmes) and it was decided that we descend into "Suicide Clough" which was pleasantly deep in snow and slippery as a newly weds gusset! Having got down, we had, naturally to climb a long, long way straight up to the Salt Cellar where the night's whisky was consumed. By this point, we were all getting cold, wet and bordering on the desperate but no... the short way back along the admittedly blizzard swept track was shunned for the true warting experience of the open moorland with its snow filled holes and covered rocks, warting at its finest! Anyway, somehow we managed to get back towards Wheel Stones and by common consent, it was decided that we'd had enough fun for one night and the pub beckoned. We went down the way that we should have come up had Capt. Harmer not had one of his moments. All in all, a classic warts run, snow, wind, descents, climbs and holes to trap the unwary!!
A map of the run, courtesy of John Dalton, is below.