Four Winds – Lynch Tor

It had been a long while since I’d passed through Great Mis Tor. I’d almost forgotten how much I love its giant stacks and boulders. This is a hike I did back in May, a few weeks before I set off on a section of the South West Coastal Path. I didn’t have a destination when I dismounted, but decided on roughly straight ahead and see how it goes.

Mis Tor south to King’s Tor

I am a Tor

North to the Walkham and beyond. Bandit country.

Clambering up to the top is a simple affair, and despite a fairly sweatless sacrifice I was rewarded with fine views over and off the north part of the moor. Walking is great, but sometimes stopping is just as good, and today I was the only two-legged primitive loafing on the rocks, soaking up the rays. Happy times.

If you look closely it’s possible to make out 2 huts

River Walkham

Looking back from Cock’s Hill to Mis Tor

More northing led to the River Walkham, and more again, up and over Cock’s Hill. This is a flat and boggish area. Footsteps are quickly filled with murky water and on a misty day nothing but a compass will save you. In the whispers of the wind I heard the voices of days gone by. Visibility was as good as it gets.

Greens

Jackson impersonator meets end on Cock’s Hill

The bog zone – Stooky Moor

Lynch Tor heralded lunch and a nap. Fur Tor stood watch in the distance while birdsong and the chatter of farm animals blew away thoughts of the modern world.

Lynch Tor

Standon Hill

Fur Tor – silent watchman

Southwards

The return leg was slightly left of earlier execursioning. Making for White Tor I reached the mighty Longstone, granite god of the western moor-fringe and neighbour to a nearby stone circle.

North to Tavy Cleave

The Longstone

Langstone Circle

Petertavy Great Common to Roos and Great Staple

Filthy moor beast

Roos Tor was next, and from there I descended back to the Walkham, crossed for Little Mis, and drifted back to Four Winds.

Approaching Roos Tor

South from Little Mis

Four Winds amusement park

Happy hiking.

Scorhill – Cranmere Pool

Today’s walking task was reaching Cranmere Pool from Scorhill. This is one of the shortest ways other than from OP15, the dilapidated military observation hut now removed from OS maps. Clouds added to the atmosphere without ruining visibility, and rain only made a brief cameo appearance. Hurrah!

Distant Watern and Wild Tors from Scorhill

Looking off to Fernworthy Forest and a barely visible Sittaford Tor

Rippator

The pre-lunch route led me past Rippator, Watern Tor, Hangingstone Hill and then finally on over boggy ground to Cranmere Pool. Fantastic views were there for the taking from the off, with an eye feast of lonely Dartmoor flatness, framed from south to north by tor-topped hills. Last time I followed this route I was immersed in mysterious fogginess, so it was good to get the eyeballs on what I’d been missing.

Crossing Gallaven Brook

Colourful Bogginess

Walla Brook up to Watern Tor

Wild Tor leading along to Cosdon Beacon

Watern Tor

More Watern Tor

Hangingstone Hill HQ

Going was pretty squishy on the final pool reaching spurt, and on arrival I was happy to sit down and enjoy the fine dining experience that only Pot Noodle can offer. Who would believe it’s the UK and Ireland’s number 1 pot snack? Come to think of it, how many pot snacks are there?  While sucking up the noodles I read through the Cranmere Pool visitors’ book, and added some scribblings of my own. Who replaces these books when they get full, and what happens to the full ones?

Embrace the lonely wilderness

From Hangingstone to Cranmere Pool

A tiny box heralds sunken Cranmere Pool

Time for lunch and the visitors’ book

For the return leg, I retraced my soggy steps to Hangingstone, then turned south to Quentin’s Man, bog hopping across the peaty tufts and pools of Whitehorse Hill. I like this area when it’s submerged in the mist.

Whitehorse Hill – Take the peat pass or go bog-hopping

Quentin’s Man. Given up on the camouflaging then?

If you wanted to visit Sittaford Tor and Grey Weather’s stone circle, it would just require a little extra time. Instead, after heading east, I took a more rapid north which led me past the ruins of Teignhead Farm and its impressive clapper bridge.

Surrounds of Teignhead Farm – Sittaford Tor & Fernworthy

Teignhead Farm – Beware the ghost of the Teignhead head mangler

Fernworthy forest acted as guide, sucking me through more wet ground in the direction of Kestor Rock.

Survivor’s Guilt

Approaching Kestor Rock

All that remained was to cross the North Teign and Walla Brook, converse with the moor gods in Scorhill Stone Circle, and use my remaining coinage to summon a return taxi. Should be home in a jiffy.

Stone row near Kestor Rock

Scorhill Clapper

Scorhill Circle

Oh bo%%0cks!

Nuns Cross Farm – Ducks Pool

More rain means time to post on another day hike from earlier this month. Nuns Cross Farm provided the start point, and embarking southish across the moor it wasn’t long before I was dampening my toes in Plym Ford. Having crossed the infant river I headed to Calveslake Tor, a great spot to soak up the view and down a pint of ale. Birds and bird sounds were in abundance. Simple pleasures can’t be easily beaten.

Nuns Cross Farm

Fording Plym Ford

Lower Hartor Tor on Right

Approaching Calveslake Tor

After completing the Times cryptic crossword, composing several Haiku poems, and completing a set of 100 press-ups, I set sail amongst the ruins of the river valley, turning at Plym Steps to follow the Langcombe Brook tributary. This led me into Deadman’s Bottom, a ghoulish and forsaken hollow, which I did well to scamper through quickly, turning eastish to advance on Erme Pits.

Turning south-East / Plym Steps Area

Southern Bank of Langcombe Brook

Deadman’s Bottom – Tis worse than he looks

Up and Over to Erme Pits

Broad Rock – Red Lake China Clay in Distance

Erme Pits

Explorations on the banks of Blacklane Brook included a good rumage around in Grant’s Pot, and lunch at Philpott’s Cave. The sun played hide and seek behind the clouds, while the wind came and went following no particular schedule. More relaxations were accompanied by yawning and stretching. Who knows what time it was.

Grant’s Pot

Grant’s Pot – Security Cam Footage

Blacklane Brook – The Meadow – The Erme

Philpott’s Cave

Philpott’s Cave – Living Room

I packed up and after snapping a support off my stove, not for fun, I headed further up the Brook to Ducks Pool, then further once again to Fox Tor. By now the sun was beaming nicely and provided enough of an excuse for me to lie down and soak up a welcome cocktail of ultra violet and vitamin D.

Hut Remnants near Ducks Pool

Evidence of Foul Play?

Ducks Pool – Letterboxer’s Delight

Lonely Old Ducks Pool

Northwards to the Post

Fox Tor

Down the hill then westwards, first taking in Childe’s Tomb, then skirting Nuns Cross Farm once more, before arriving back at the RV for extraction. Another moorland mission completed.

Childe’s Tomb

Nuns Cross Farm

Shipley Bridge – Ryder’s Hill

Non-stop rain today, so some time to write up my latest Dartmoor tripping. No, I haven’t been experimenting with magic mushrooms… Just wandering around the south part of the moor. “Where”, I hear my half dozen readers enquire…. This time in the environs of the River Avon.

Behold the Lonely Flatness

An easy place to start is the car park at Shipley Bridge, connected by little country lanes to South Brent. On my last visit here I headed straight up towards the reservoir, today I thought it would be better to roll in a different direction. Exiting at the opening end of the car park, it’s possible to be up on the moor in a jiffy.

Eastern White Barrow

The first target was Eastern White Barrow, a distinctive nippled burial mound. It’s not much of a climb across relatively flat, and on this day, dry moorland. Eastern White Barrow leads on to Western White Barrow, where I stopped to sip more water and view the surrounds. Although clouds filled the sky, there were still good 360s across the moor and down to the sea.

Northish over Moor Grass to Huntingdon Hill

Western White Barrow

The Devil’s Footbath

Not far from this second Barrow are stony remains from the china clay industry.  After pottering around in amongst them, I joined the well defined track that leads to Red Lake China Clayworks, and conquered the stumpy heap for another good all round view. Wind licked across my dome, and whistled round my ears, my face grew in numbness. I screamed a war cry across the wasteland, “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaa.” More Alan Partridge than Viking Explorer. Nevertheless, it was another good day to die.

In Need of a Tidy

View at Red Lake China Clayworks

The highest point on the southern moor is Ryder’s Hill, about 30 minutes or so of squelching from the clayworks. Upon arrival more panoramas were enjoyed together with a rather dodgy curried Ginster’s creation which passed as lunching.

On the Move to Ryder’s

Alone with the Wind on Ryder’s Hill

The return leg carried me first to Snowdon, then Puper’s Hill. Downwards, then upwards to Huntingdon Hill, then down once again to Broad Falls. Even though it had started to snow, I stopped in the remains of a tiny hobbit hut to enjoy the isolation and peace, reflecting deeply on the meaning of life and also what had been a rather gruesome lunchtime pasty experience. Never again.

Looking off the Moor

Huntingdon Warren House

En route to Broad Falls

Abandoned Hobbit Hut

Broad Falls

The Avon led me to Huntingdon Cross and the Avon reservoir. Out of the wind I enjoyed the music of the stream and lack of all things civilised.

Let the Avon Guide You

Huntingdon Cross

Reservoir de Avon

Avon Dam

Nearly home I skirted the northern shores of this watery pit, then descended back to Shipley bridge. The river and small patches of woodland have a lovely prettiness, only tempered by blockish menace of the house of the Avon Curdler. Do not speak his name.

Bricked-up House of the Avon Curdler

Tree Wall

Hunter’s Stone

Back at the car the heavens opened, and I looked forward to a post-hike junk food binge.

Hmm……Burger, or Pizza?

Tavy Cleave – Great Kneeset

Tavy Cleave Leat

Leat Warden’s Lodge – be sure to take a gift

Perfect sunshine for this trip which started in the cleave, first following the river Tavy’s leat, then the river proper. It’s a stunning mini valley with pretty little waterfalls and pools that will have you stripping off your plus fours and slipping in the wet stuff. There were a few people out today, though almost all seemed to head straight up to Ger Tor. After passing one dog and his man, I was alone with the sound of the river and assorted bird chirpery. Summoning all my powers of will I kept my clothes on and headed along and up the water, rounding Watern Oke and arriving, after a while, at Sandy Ford.

Deep Bottom. Enough said.

One of many pools

More Prettiness

The End of the Cleave

Master of the Moor

Sandy Ford & Fur

For the second time in a week the ford and the Tors perched above it provided the backdrop to my lunchtime masterpiece, chicken and bacon sarnies con mayonnaise, and a packet of Thai red chilli crisps. My table was a grassed over granite lump on Fur Tor, reached by crossing Pinswell. I spent an hour here listening to the wind and taking in the rays. Above me circled the nesting raven. Back in the direction of the ford I could see what looked like Ten Tors groups out for practice. A line of dots waiting to be joined.

Fur Tor

Look into the Stones – What do they say?

Lunchtime View to Sandy Ford and Hare Tor

After lunch I made for Great Kneeset. Usually boggy ground was quite firm underfoot, but I was knackered enough for another rest and a chocolaty dessert by the time I arrived. This would be a much harder walk in wetter conditions.

Looking West to Great Links

Northish To High Willhays & Yes Tor

The views all day today were nothing short of amazing. There’s a great satisfaction to be gained by looking at the faces of distant tors, naming their names, and remembering past trips taken. Eastish to Hangingstone. Northish and upwards lay Yes Tor and High Willays, bellow me the depths of Jackman’s Bottom. Pray hope you never end up stuck down there without a map and compass.

Flat Bottomed Amicombe Hole

With new Cadbury’s given energy I rose like a phoenix from the flames and lumbered over and up westwards, crossing Amicombe Hole. Without timing it, it would be difficult to say exactly how long I took. Suffice to say it was no less than a good 45 minutes of grunting before I was looking down on Bleak House from atop the heady summit of Green Tor.

Two Ring Stone – Horse Parking? Fur in Background. En Route to Green Tor

Featureless Terrain on Amicombe Hill

Bleak House from Green Tor – Middle, not Skyline, Right Side

The remainder of the walk was much easier going. Chat Tor, Hare Tor, Tavy Cleave Tors, Ger Tor, Lanehead car park.

Ten Tors Trainees? Advance on Hare Tor.

View from Hare Tor – Bray Tor in Centre

Ger Tor.

Last Look into Tavy Cleave

I really enjoyed this walk. Amongst other things I saw lots of birds, newts, sheep and ponies of course, 3 lizards, 1 fish, and no clouds.

Where next?

Postbridge – Fur Tor & Sittaford

Morning Clouds near Postbridge

I’d been meaning to head out to Fur Tor for a while and on this hike the weather was much improved. Although the sky wasn’t cloudless, visibility was just awesome and I could see for miles around, across to Quintin’s Man and Fernworthy, up to Yes Tor and Cosdon Beacon, and down into the moor’s lower southern half.

Sky and cloud do battle

Starting in Postbridge, I headed north west over Broad Down. Here I met a small group carrying plastic panelling. They’d been moving so slowly when I first saw them in the distance that I thought they were 2 halves of a grazing pony. Not correct, they were in fact installing equipment to measure water draining off the moor and its effect on the peat. Further up I met up with the East Dart, which I followed until it turned into Cut Hill Stream. I made north a touch more before turning west and heading over Cut Hill’s top and on down to Fur Tor.

Fur Tor from Cut Hill

As I rounded the biggest of the stacks I surprised a nesting Raven who quickly disappeared with a loud squawk and much flapping. The Raven’s nest is clinging on to the side of the granite, a mass of tangled roots and sticks.

Tavy Cleavewards to a distant Hare Tor

Fur Tor is a great place for lunch with spectacular views, especially in the direction of Hare Tor. Warmer weather means longer lunches with a good bit of lounging about in amongst the slabs and out of a chilly wind. Sandwiches, crisps, and my all time hiking favourite, millionaire’s shortbread, all disappeared down the mouth hole.

Tinner’s Hut near Kit Rocks

Caloried up I was ready for the afternoon’s offerings, retracing to Cut Hill, though following the military posts down this time. Crossing Cut Hill stream and Lane, I passed the remains of a tinner’s hut and advanced on Kit Rocks,  before plodding over boggyish ground to Statt’s House. More fantastic views and a young couple with a guide book and  telephone looking for Sandy Hole Pass.

Statt’s House

Eastish again saw me up to Sittaford Tor and the twin rings of Grey Wethers. I stripped off and lay in the middle of the stones, waiting for a sign from the cosmos. Ten minutes passed with no answer from above and with wind chill taking its toll I decided to give up and re-dress.

Is there anybody out there?

The last part of the journey led me south down into a quiet valley then up again to Hartland Tor, past Hartland House, and finally back to the car park where my horse was waiting.

Heading back

Not my horse at Two Bridges

Meldon – Lints Tor

Bow before mighty Loch Meldon

Better weather meant a return to Meldon and the hike I’d planned on doing previously. I’m often inclined to stay away from parts of the moor within eyeshot of roads, though today reminded me that doing so means missing out on some real treats.

At last, nobody.

I crossed the reservoir, making eastish up a pleasantly empty small valley in the direction of West Mill Tor. Skirting its outside took me within viewshot of Okehampton Camp and into army training land. There was no live firing today but I could still see small groups slowly edging on with their large packs. Great views over in the direction of Belstone and South to Hangingstone.

There are some interesting bits and bobs in these parts, well worth a gander.  A possible emplacement for an artillery piece, also narrow gauge track, if that’s what you call it, which I’d read moved a target. Steel plating used for shooting at and, by the looks of it, shooting over.

Inside a shed was a landrover with the licence plate “Captain”. Unfortunately not enough light entered the crack between doors and I couldn’t get a shot of it.

From there it was up to Yes Tor and High Willhays, where the wind really was blowing something. I slotted in behind some granite and got scoffing, with deadly accuracy I finished off a cajun chicken wrap, some beefy crinkle cut crisps and a chocolate bar. On wintery day hikes I often can’t be bothered to stop with a stove.

Lunch was followed by a quick detour to Fordsland Ledge: a great name amongst many in these parts. Here the debate about park usage rumbles on. In time honoured tradition viewpoints are stated and traded, with minutes carefully taken on the side of the military hut by local secretary. I think it’s great that both sides are at the table and we’ve succeeded in opening a meaningful dialogue.

I made my own path to Dinger Tor, smearing my face with a peaty muddy camouflage to slink passed the men in uniforms. Bearing round and up to  Lints I was treated to more lovely views. Head on out there to see what I mean.

The final stretch saw me northwards along an empty valley, squeezing past Black-a-Tor Copse and then back around the reservoir to my chariot. Another fantastic day and I just can’t wait to get back out.

New Waste – Erme Pits

I only went the wrong way once as I drove to New Waste along tiny little country lanes, one of which has the narrowest bridge I’ve ever seen. Fortunately there wasn’t much in the way of oncoming traffic, as I’m fine driving forwards, but not good going in the opposing direction.

Looking back towards New Waste

Looking down the Yealm

Behold the mighty Yealm Steps

A good foot sucking

Red Lake China Clay from Langcombe Hill

It was a clear day when I set off north-westish to the valley of the Yealm, changing to north when I met the river, up past Yealm steps and then up and across to Erme Pits. The ground was waterlogged and the going was a mixture of tramping through long grass on Langcombe Hill and following what looked like small footpaths, bigger than sheep tracks, though far too tiny to be included on any map. Sometimes these little paths are helpful, though other times they drag me off compass bearings, usually in the mist.  More frequently than not they vanish as mysteriously as they arrive, leaving me scratching my head.

Erme Pits

Erme Valley

Erme Pits is good for a look around and with time a plenty I also rummaged about to its north, looking for Pillpot’s cave and Grant’s Pot. Somebody must have smoked Grant’s pot, as I couldn’t find it anywhere. Ha ha ha. Nevertheless I’d worked up a good appetite, and enjoyed satisfying my hike munchies on the banks of Blacklane Brook.

Stone Row & Dancers

Piles Copse

This was the sun’s last appearance. Cloudy drizzle took over for the return leg which followed the valley of the Erme, took in a long stone row with stone circle and then finished on a track opposite Piles Copse. The copse is very pretty. I saw nobody today, though I did think I could hear peculiar noises emanating from the hut near the Elme’s weir. Just what is the solar panel atop its roof charging?

Solar Powered Weir Hut

Bye.

Belstone – Hangingstone Hill

Today’s hike was going to be around High Willhays and Yes Tor. I got as far as the car park at Meldon reservoir before deciding the mist was just a bit too thick. I don’t usually walk this area for a few different reasons. Instead I thought it better to repeat a route I was more familiar with. Foggy conditions definitely add an x-factor to moorland wanderings.

It only took 15 minutes or so to turn round and get to Belstone. I used to come here on family picnics as a kid and remember trying to keep up with my dad as he powered up Cosdon Beacon. I started on the other side of the valley and headed up into the nothingness along the ridge: Belstone, Irishman’s, Higher, Oke. At times the sun forced its way through but was swept aside again as I got closer to Hangingstone, going down through Steeperton Gorge with its Tor trying to escape the greyness. The feel on days like this is something I love about the moor.

Hangingstone and its surrounds were as bleak as ever. Picnic was a brief scoffing and then off to Wild Tor, and the Two Hounds. This time the clouds retreated and gave me some good views across to my earlier route and back towards the lunch location. Stonehenge Junior was also out.

Yes, some of the clouds vanished, though others returned and I approached Cosdon Beacon in more mist.

Down the other side to Belstone cleave, a great twisted mix of mosses, trees, rocks and water.

I finshed with the short walk back up the car passing Beltone stocks. There must be some good arguments for bringing these back into action.

Cheers.

Two Bridges – Beardown Man

Yesterday’s hike was from Two Bridges. I’d hoped to head to Fur Tor but the mist convinced me I was better off leaving the exertion for a day when I could properly enjoy the view. Instead I made north to the area of Brown’s house. Near what I believe is the actual Brown’s house are the remains of another small building, slightly more intact and where I like to stop for a snack. This time in the mist. No sign of Brown, or anyone else.

After indulging in crisps and chocolate it was up to Rough Tor, before cancelling Fur and heading to Beardown Man. There was a lot of bog trudging through the mist,low on panormaic enjoyment but great for a sense of isolation and the mystery.

It wasn’t until I hit Lydford Tor that I decided to descend to the river and see if Wistman’s Wood might be visible.

The fog was quickly dispersing and as it did, dog walkers and half-termers began to appear. By now I was almost back at the car park. Taking advantage of the clear up, I rode down to Sharpitor and enjoyed some splendid late afternoon views.