And off we go again, another Saturday, another early start. Last weekend was spent indoors at the National Outdoor Expo; this time it was the train to Edale, leading a group out with the Austrian Alpine Club.
The plan was a classic Kinder loop: up Grindsbrook Clough, across the plateau via Kinder Low and Kinder Downfall, then back down the Pennine Way. On paper, straightforward. As is often the case in the mountains, they had other ideas.
Grindsbrook does what it always does. It draws you in, up the valley, as the sides close in around you, leaving you with hands on rock and water running around your feet. Nothing technical in isolation, but enough to keep you thinking. Small decisions, careful foot placements, the group naturally finding a rhythm as we move upwards.
I find there’s something grounding about having hands on the rock. It feels constant. Formed millions of years ago, it doesn’t really care if today brings damp, wind or hail.
At the top, just as we’re about to step out onto the plateau, the first change arrives, a short burst of hail.
For me, this landscape is still changing. Crossing Kinder is never just “walking across a plateau.”
Underfoot, the story shifts constantly. In places, the path is clean, with flagstones laid to protect the peat, part of a long-term effort to repair what was heavily damaged over decades. Step off those slabs and you’re straight back into rough ground: uneven, damp and needing attention.
It’s easy to think of Kinder as timeless, but much of it is still recovering. What you’re walking across isn’t untouched wilderness, it’s a landscape in transition. After acid rain from nearby industrial cities and years of erosion from footfall, this was once one of the most depleted moorland environments in Europe. Then came the Moorlands for the Future programme, and slowly, quietly, through a lot of hard work, the land is recovering and becoming something else. Reducing flood risk, improving natural habitats, and much more.
A sharper burst of hail arrives as we stop for lunch, tucked into the bank for a bit of shelter. One of those familiar hill moments. Moving on, the wind builds across the plateau. More hail. A bit of snow mixed in. Nothing extreme, but enough to change the feel of the day and add to the experience.
Then we pass Kinder Gate, one of those places I’ve always enjoyed visiting, especially from my time as a regular with the Dark Peak Fell Runners, and pause for a moment.
Our turning point is Kinder Downfall. We stop, take it in, and then turn south along the Pennine Way.
On the descent, things soften again. The path becomes clearer, the wind eases, and the edge of the plateau starts to let go. And then, out across the fields, curlews. Just a couple. An hour earlier we were standing in hail and wind, and here it is: spring, quietly getting on with things back in the valley.
We finish, as these days often do, at a café. This time, Newfold Farm Café.
It’s changed over the years, from a simple railway carriage serving tea back when it was Coopers Campsite, to something more polished now, although it still does the same job.
A place to warm up, pause, and mark the end of the day.