AS ONE gratefully breaks away from the M1 and sets sail west past Chesterfield’s crooked spire, it is when the hedges give way to stone walls that the transition to the Peak District is marked. I spent much of my childhood yomping around bits of Derbyshire as my father was a denizen. There was the racing at Flagg (where point-to-points have been hosted since 1892), watching him run the Dovedale Dash and the giddy excitement
