The First Camp of 2025
The second weekend of January brought a cold weather front here in the UK and plenty of snow. So I met up with Dan Jones and his mate Neil in the Peak District with the hope of camping above Ladybower Reservoir. All week, we anxiously awaited the possibility that the snow from a few days earlier would still be intact, thanks to the cold temperatures that had swept the nation. I had concerns about the roads though, as I read that several car parks were closed and that smaller access roads were icy. I recently replaced my twenty-year-old car with a much fancier twelve-year-old one, so I wasn’t eager to push it through snow and ice.
Thankfully, the roads were no issue, as I travelled via Sheffield and an A road, which was ice free. On arriving at the car park near (the still closed?) Ladybower Inn, we were greeted by perfect winter conditions: blue skies and a good covering of snow. Win Hill looked positively alpine wrapped in this winter blanket. Our walk started by circling behind the pub and taking a steep path up to reach the start of Derwent Edge. The excellent weather meant the hills were relatively busy, but it was nice to see others making the most of that rare combination of snow and clear skies.
On the initial climb, looking back towards the Hope Valley
Looking back towards Stanage Edge
We spent a couple of hours meandering along Derwent Edge, taking in the familiar (to some) landmarks of the Wheel Stones, the Salt Cellar, and Dovestone Tor. The going was easy, thanks to the well-trodden path along the ridge, though we planned to stray off the beaten track later in the day. I was hoping to revisit a camp spot from last summer near Featherbed Moss and Howden Moors.
Walkers heading away from Back Tor, with Derwent Reservoir out of view below
When we reached Back Tor at the end of Derwent Edge, we found quite a few other walkers. Some were attempting to inch their way up an icy slab to reach the trig point. I resisted the urge – when I’m just a few weeks away from an expedition, I become even more risk-averse than usual. One twisted ankle could derail a year of planning. My friend and editor, Jerry Kobalenko, follows the same principle year-round, avoiding downhill skiing, mountain biking, or anything that could lead to unnecessary injury and ruin a long-planned expedition.
We set off from Back Tor intending to push on, but we quickly realised we’d spend hours postholing through deep snow. Regretting that I no longer owned snowshoes, we decided to make camp on firmer ground closer to Back Tor. That turned out to be a wise decision, as before long the sky began to glow with a soft orange hue, followed by delicate pastel shades breaking through.
The three of us pitched our tents and compared notes on one another’s setups. I was using my new Terra Nova Southern Cross 1 for only the second time. It’s impressively spacious for its size and feels sturdy, though I haven’t tested it in high winds yet. While we snapped the customary tent photos for social media, Neil treated us to a few servings of his divine homemade slow-cooked beef and mash. So so good…
Final adjustments to my pitch for the night
Neil’s tent, with Bradfield Moors in the distance
The night passed a bit slowly, as my summer sleeping mat (I don’t own a winter one that isn’t sized for non-polar conditions) wasn’t quite up to the task with temperatures dipping into the low negatives. Thankfully, stuffing my jacket and backpack under the mat did the trick. It’s not easy on the wallet or storage space owning summer, winter, and polar-rated gear.
Morning arrived with ethereal light, pastel skies, and a gentle fog. Looking out over the desolate landscape stretching back toward Sheffield, it was hard to tell if we were in the Peak District or Arctic Norway.
Early morning ethereal light and fog
After striking camp, we made an uneventful descent to Ladybower Reservoir and the car. As the snow gave way to mud and leaves, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness at leaving the winter wonderland behind. Most of my winter camping experience has been abroad, so experiencing such conditions so close to home is something I’ll cherish for a long time. The first camp of 2025 was truly a special one.
Arctic Norway or the Peak District?
