Saturday: Up Hill
THIS WEEKEND IS all about highs and lows and it kicks off on two of Britain’s most mesmerising peaks: Chrome and Parkhouse Hills. Often likened to a dragon’s back, their ridges lift to knobbly limestone spines. Chrome, the bigger one, is the serpent’s plump body; Parkhouse is the narrower flick of its reptilian tail. As you set off from the hamlet of Hollinsclough, you get a long, side-on view of the sinuous giant, before turning to climb that tail.
Skirt round the first pinnacle and hit the Parkhouse ridge and it feels like there’s been a kink in the time-height continuum. Only moments have passed but the narrow toothiness of the rock and the quantity of air on either side makes it feel like you’ve climbed miles into the sky. Some walkers will whistle their way up with hands in pockets ( like CW photographer Tom); ); others will be very wary of the slippery limestone and turf and get a bit stuck on the steep sections ( like me). If you’re u’re in my camp, then it’s easier to walk along the base of Parkhouse and climb up to the top from the other (eastern) end. It goes s without saying that care is essential in ice and snow.
Up top is a mighty fine viewpoint. The infant River Dove burbles by below – the star of your low-lying journey through the dales tomorrow – and Chrome Hill stretches in a long upturned V ahead. It looks as if someone has hacked out a valley and flipped it to make this triangular ridge.
This snowy day is a long way from the warm tropical sea where the hills were born, when the Peak District was somewhere south of the equator in the Carboniferous period. Chrome and Parkhouse are the remains of huge reef atolls, their limestone lumps and bumps formed from the remains of dead sea-creatures. Whole fossils can be spotted lodged in the rocks here and there, including gigantoproductus shells and spiral-cut crinoids, so abundant in this area they’re also known as Derbyshire Screws.
If you’re feeling the chill, the climb up Chrome Hill should heat things up. Its summit at 1394 feet is only 200 feet taller than Parkhouse, but it seems a lot higher, mostly because of the brutal – and sometimes demoralising – convex angle of its slope. Almost at the top you think. Okay, definitely this time. Surely now. And finally, of course, you really do get there.
Chrome’s left-hand slopes are fattened out by layers of blue-grey shale, while on the right the limestone ribs crop out in grey crags. Both these hills have been designated a Site of Special Scientific Interest for their geology and for the limestone flora that flourishes on the ledges and steep, ungrazed turf. Of course, it would be one determined plant to a) flower in midwinter and b) grow tall enough to outreach today's snow, but if you’re here in summer you might sniff wild thyme on the breeze or spot the sun-
“Up top is a mighty fine viewpoint. The infant River Dove burbles by below – the star of your journey through the dales tomorrow – and Chrome Hill stretches ahead.”
yellow splashes of rockrose flowers or the purple spires of the nationally-rare Jacob’s Ladder.
The going gets gnarlier as you descend Chrome’s long ridge, with pinnacles of limestone breaking the grass, and caves and arches to explore. The right to roam these hills was one of the biggest prizes in the campaign for access. Before the Countryside and Rights of Way Act was passed by Parliament in 2000, these summits were off limits and out of bounds, unless (as many reportedly did) you were prepared to trespass. Just imagine looking at these, and not being able to climb them.
Now you can skip freely over them – and one more neighbour too. It’s a short climb to the top of Hollins Hill and then a long half-mile of easy ridgewalking. In any other company, this would be a star of the show, with its sweeping view of dale and distant uplands. Here though, in this company, it’s simply a handy balcony for a final lingering appreciation of those scenestealers, Chrome and Parkhouse. WALK HERE: Turn to Walk 11 in this issue