Hurtling towards the Easter bank holiday I felt at a loss. A few weeks prior I had grand plans in mind. Riding the length of Wales, to Dunkery beacon and back, or having (yet another) shot at the Lakeland 200… All of these things were on the cards.

Fast forward to the Thursday night and my ambitions have faded. A couple of little niggling injuries, a miserable weather forecast, and a few bad nights sleep meant I wasn’t thirsting after a big mission, but was still keen to get out, camp, and explore.

Ayoob and Freya were in similar mindset, wanting to strike that balance of getting a couple of days away from home without it being too full on. Many of us are easily lured in by the thought of epic missions, the big story, further, higher, harder, faster. There is a time and a place for these things, but ambition can be the enemy of satisfaction. We met at Bristol’s finest Interlude coffee on Friday afternoon to make a plan. Normally I’m a good planner, but was feeling a bit flat and struggling for inspiration. Ayoob felt similarly, and we delegated organisational duties to Freya who quickly suggested ‘How about The Peaks?’ A quick weather radar check confirmed that this was a good move, and having hardly ridden in The Peaks I was keen as mustard.

The plan was hatched rapidly. At 3pm we were in the coffee shop and by 6pm I’d cooked dinner, Freya had formulated a route, we’d rushed through the faffy process of sorting gear for bikepacking, made a total meal of packing the car, and had hit the road. We decided to get the drive done Friday evening while the roads were quiet, sneak into the Peaks under the cover of darkness, and ride a few Km to the first decent looking camp spot and pitch up for the night before starting the bulk of the ride on Saturday morning.

The loop was largely taken from the invaluable resource of Bikepacking.com, with a few adjustments to trim it down into a two day trip. You could make it three if you wanted to be very leisurely, but we very comfortably did it in two. This is a route you’ll want to ride on a mountainbike, or at least a gravel bike with fat tyres and easy gearing, and you can find it HERE

We arrived in Bakewell at 23:00. Getting ready to go so late had a fun novelty factor. Everybody else in this sleepy little town was tucked up in bed and we were setting off into the woods in search of a place to set up camp. Finding good camp spots in the dark can be tricky, especially when trying to be stealthy as one should when camping ‘wild’, but we didn’t have much trouble finding a flat and sheltered spot far enough from the path and about 5km into the route.

I felt immediately at home in my little tent. We’ve been through a lot together and I’ve reached a point where I usually sleep well in there, especially at this time of year. I think spring is the best time to camp. Not light too late, not light too early, not too warm, not too cold. smack bang in the middle of the Goldilocks camping zone.

Waking up on Saturday morning we were feeling like we’d played our cards right. Everything was going to plan. It hadn’t rained overnight, the trails were fast and dry, and we were filled with the enthusiasm of doing something we’d not done in too long. It look a little while to get into the route, meandering around a gated ‘no cycling’ section near the rather posh Chatsworth house, stopping in a shop where Ayoob picked up some fancy looking Bakewell tarts, adjusting bags and various other faff, but soon we were settled in and cruising along nicely.

The route took us up and along the rocky outcrop of Curbar Edge. the trails here are wide and you could easily stay on the smooth path, but I couldn’t resist messing around on the technical rock lines, picking my way through them and trying not to do anything silly. When bikepacking I love the bike to feel as fun and playful as possible, the best way I’ve found to achieve this is to avoid any swingy saddle bags or racks that interfere with dropper seatposts, steer clear of weight on fork lowers, and choose a small backpack over extra frame bags.

Being the Easter bank holiday we saw huge numbers out enjoying the sun and the outdoors in their own ways. runners, horse riders, climbers, all sorts. There was a surprising lack of bikes about, until we reached a gate at the end of a gravel seciton where we came across a huge gravel ride regrouping at the side of the path. They cheered us past as if we were riding the tour de France, which gave us a good vibe boost. It looked like they were having a great time too, but I was happy in our little group. I much prefer small groups to big events, this might be a generalisation but I think sometimes the less people you do something with, the more sharing that experience connects you to them, almost as if socialising is diluted by doing it with too many people at once. Perhaps that’s just how it feels for me.

Despite being mostly ridable there were a handful of hike-a-bike sections on the route. Some of which may or may not be ridable by the right riders in the right conditions. I did my best to try and pedal these and was thriving on the grippy sandstone rocks. It felt like you could push much harder before the tyre would slip or spin out, and having a bag on the bars helped to keep the front wheel from wandering on the steepest bits. I was pushing as hard as I could to get up the path onto Stanage Edge, repeatedly cleaning sections I thought might get the better of me, up and over big rocks on a crazy gradient. I finally gave in on one huge step only to look behind me and get a round of cheers from a bunch of rock climbers who’d stopped to watch. They were in amazement that I wasn’t on an E-bike. I’d had no idea they were watching but Ayoob said they’d loved it. I’ll try not to let this go to my head, but It felt fun to have put on a show.

We descended for a while and skirted around the shores of Ladybower, Derwent, and Howden reservoirs before tackling the final climb of the day which took us up and over Cut Gate, a well known peaks mountainbike route often ridden as an out and back. The climb from South to North was ruthless, some hiking was required, and what was could be pedalled was bloody hard. As is usually the case the reward was very much worth the effort. Winding singletrack back down the hill for what felt like forever, with some peaty loamy sections, techy rocks, and more manicured slab paved bits. Freya led us into this descent and I was struck by how well she was riding, she’s only been regularly into the mountainbike for about a year but has been putting the hours in and reaping the rewards and progressing at a crazy rate. Rocky, technical descent on an XC hardtail with bikepacking gear after a whole day on the pedals? no problem at all.

Often newer or steadier paced riders within a group feel uncomfortable about leading, I know I do when I’m in company I think I’ll be holding up. It’s easy to slip into the ‘fastest goes first’ group habit, but I think there’s a lot to be said for mixing it up. It can be a great confidence boost for newer riders in a group to lead, and to know that nobody actually minds riding 10% slower than they might be able to. Riding with friends is as much to me about watching others ride and sharing the experience than it is about trying to ride as well as you can.

At the foot of the descent we exchanged a few high fives and agreed that it was time to seek out the nights camp spot. We settled on an area not far from the trail but well secluded, on slightly higher ground, and hidden from view by a huge fallen tree. A little chat, a few rounds of inter tent ‘Would You Rather?’, and taking time to enjoy the quite squashed but delicious Bakewell tart which Ayoob had picked up earlier in the day and we were off to bed, all tucked up by 7:30pm. Time loses its rigidity when doing this kind of thing. At home I’m ashamedly bad at getting to bed early. When camping and away from the internet and other distractions I’m happy to get cozy and maximise sleep, and maximise it we did, not rising until being awoken by birdsong 11 hours later.

Poking my head out of the tent I felt a chill in the air, but the sky was clear blue. I knew we were in for a beauty of a day once the sun had reached its peak, and couldn’t wait to get started. The second days riding was easier going than the first. It was about the same length but with less climbing and almost entirely ridable with only a couple of very short hike sections, it uses a large amount of the Longdendale Trail, Pennine Bridleway, and Monsal trail, all of which make for good progress.

The easier progress and beating sun on this day gave us real summer holiday vibes. It’s amazing what the sun can do, and when sitting in a square in Glossop brewing a coffee it didn’t feel like there was a place in the world I’d rather be. Unfortunately the same cannot be said for Freya who for reasons I shan’t disclose had to do something unthinkable in a Subway toilet. If you know her you’ll have to ask for the story. If you don’t, it’s not mine to share.

On leaving Glossop the remainder of the day passed easily, I particularly enjoyed some of the rockier uphill sections of the Pennine Bridleway, and our tea stop, perched on some natural grass steps and watching groups of hikers pass by. I brought Ayoob some Lapsang Souchong teabags, because I know he loves them and that’s what friends are for.

Cruising back towards Bakewell on the Monsal trail held some particular relevance to Ayoob and I after watching a YouTube video involving a group of walkers on a psychadelic induced journey. Having seen them marvel at the old railway tunnels in thier altered state of perception made us appreciate them in a slightly different light.

On arriving back into Bakewell and back to the car it felt like we’d perfectly achecived our goal, of two full days riding in a beautiful setting, with fun trails, and without it being overly challenging. Choosing to camp on the Friday night had made a two day trip feel like three, and was a great way to maximise the weekend. We rolled back to the car, packed our things, and had a wander into Bakewell town in search of some sustenance. As a final little blessing from the bikepacking gods we arrived at the pasty shop to find a reduced sign and all pasties half price. This made my decision to have two pasties for dinner an easy one. There’s nothing like eating when you’re hungry.

I’ve not written here for some time now, not for lack of want but for lack of making the time. It’s felt like a busy start to the year, with a few major decision making processes to be made and ‘non bike’ life stuff to consider. This weekend away was a much needed reset, and I’m glad to have taken the time to put some words on the page and write down some memories.

A couple of tent nights has gotten me thirsting for more, which is probably for the best as I’ve spent much of this evening portioning out my breakfasts ready to walk the Snowdonia Way next week. This long distance hiking trail runs from from Machyncllth to Conwy, and will be my longest walk since the Cape Wrath Trail back in the summer of 2023. My expectations are for less deer and more sheep. I’ll be sure to write all about it.