Dartmoor reflections

Northmore's Cross

I will miss Dartmoor when we move. I can't believe how much the rugged, wild landscapes have got under my skin. The Curate and I have retreated there when times were tough. We could stand and stare at the outstretched country below us and remind ourselves that whatever was troubling us was only a moment in time and time passes. And so it did - and we learnt so much during this second half of The Curate's curacy.

We have discovered so many different faces to Dartmoor. We have seen the changes with each season and experienced the seemingly endless rain that we have all had this year. What was new for us, was to see how it affected those who lived and worked on Dartmoor and how it was such a threat to their livelihoods. The Curate has been drawn into farming families at times of funerals and he has had glimpses of the farming life that has been passed down from one generation of the family to the next. Quad bikes have replaced ponies and paperwork has halted bartering. TB testing dominates life for weeks at a time but the essence of life in a remote moorland farm, remains the same.

Riding round Fox Tor Mires

Riding across Dartmoor has given us yet another view of this wild place. I never thought that I would be able to ride as much as I have done and I have met people who have shown me parts of  Dartmoor that I would never have found on my own in the short time we have had here. Earlier this week we rode beside the Fox Tor Mires - this is an exposed area of treacherous boggy moorland that you do not cross. It said that it could be as deep as twenty foot in places. There you will find a granite cross which is said to be the tomb of a wealthy Saxon Lord, Childe the Hunter. The Mires are said to have been the inspiration for The Hound Of The Baskervilles by Sir Arther Conan Doyle.   We were making our way up Hand Hill to see one of the smallest crosses on Dartmoor - Northmore's Cross. It is just 11 cm tall and is placed on a triangular granite rock in 1982 by Mr Northmore  who had farmed the area for years. He was marking his appreciation of having lived and worked in the area.

Dartmoor has certainly become a very important part of my journey alongside The Curate. The landscapes, the wild skies and the people, have all made creases in my life that will not be ironed out. It has taught me that my heart is in the countryside and I now need to explore this as we begin our new life in Dorset next month.

My First Cuckoo

The call of the cuckoo echoed across the valley this morning as we walked the dogs on a different part of the countryside near to our house. I would never have found this area on my own as it is just off the edge of our moor map - but I was shown it by a teaching colleague when we spent a very happy day with children from my school. The Curate and I returned again this morning to have the whole area to ourselves - except for the wildlife. 

There is something beautiful about the sound of a cuckoo that makes you stop and listen, willing it to call again. Personally, I think that is the only beautiful thing about a cuckoo- as it is such a self centred bird.  When it has decided to intrude on another bird's nest, it pushes the other eggs out so it can lay its own egg. Even knowing this, hearing the first call of the year, is still special.

We walked down to the rivers through the flowering hawthorns. We were just in time to see a heron take off and lazily flap its way up stream. Being there so early and completely alone, was a very magical experience. 

This is yet another stunning spot that we are able to enjoy and I am very grateful to my colleague for introducing it to me.

It will be very difficult to move away from such beautiful surroundings......if that's what The Curate is asked to do.

Home from abroad.

We are thrilled to have eldest son and Oz home for a while- they have brought the sunshine with them. England looks amazing at the moment with all the wild flowers. This is surely the best month of the year and we tell Oz it is always like this!

Forget-me-nots

We have been in this parish for over a year now and The Curate is learning about protocol, parishes and politics - a challenge at the best of times. I am writing reports and planning our escape for a summer holiday so Blogging is on the back burner at the moment. We have had some great walks on the moor - searching for the most recently discovered stone cross -  and the foals are so adorable ( and prolific) at the moment.

The view from the King wall, Dartmoor

Top Tor for Tom and Ten Tors on the moor

The buzzard stops to survey the surroundings

A skylark taking to the skies

The Curate and I have climbed to our favourite spot on the moor to clear our heads of parish business and think about our family. The cloudless blue skies and warm sunshine are so welcome and we stop and relax and count our blessings. Suddenly a shadow sweeps across us and we look up to see a buzzard swooping and soaring above us, calling to an unseen mate. We are high up and can see for miles and miles  - but the buzzard sees so much more. We stop and watch it for a while before continuing our walk. We keep the dogs close as it is the breeding seasons for ground-nesting sky larks. Despite our care, the skylarks suddenly rise up out of the rough ground, their song piercing and shrill in the moorland silence. 'Look at me!' they are singing in an effort to distract us from their nesting spots.

What a weekend - beginning with a great trip to the North Coast on Friday followed by two more days of glorious weather ( I hope this is not our summer). It was the annual Ten Tors challenge for young people - in teams of six, they are set the challenge of walking 35,45 or 55 miles and climbing ten tors on the way and camping over night. Both my sons completed all three challenges while they were at school and, as a result developed an understanding and love of the moor which I hope will stay with them. This year 2400 young people set off at 7.00 am on Saturday morning - unusually they have had clear blue skies for both days. Considering we have had torrential rain for most of April, the weather was a fantastic bonus for them.

We used to race up to watch our sons start and finish their challenges - and take a birthday cake for our eldest son whose birthday was often celebrated on the same weekend as the Challenge.  This year my son is in Dubai celebrating energetically. He tells us he has been parachuting and rock climbing today. He is on his way back to the UK and we hope to see him after next weekend.

windswept at the top

The Collie, Curate and I celebrated Tom's birthday by walking to the top of Top Tor after church - along with the everyone else in Devon (or so it seemed ). Sunday is always busy on the moor and attracts large numbers of visitors. As we sat at the top we remembered all the happy birthdays we have celebrated together. We have been fortunate to be able to travel and live abroad as a family. Our sons are now forging their own routes in the world but they are usually good at keeping in touch with us. The Curate and I have our own route to travel at the moment. I just wish I was as patient as The Curate.

A Variety of Walks, Variable Weather and Vicarious Work

The Lakeland at Beardown

What a Holy Week! The weather has changed from summer, shirtsleeves sunshine to sleet and snow, with autumnal fog in between. Today we are back to the damp conditions that are warm enough to encourage the Spring flowers to try again.

The Curate has been unexpectedly busy as people have been unwell. There have been services every evening so I have encouraged him to get out and walk in the afternoons. We have managed to  mark off a few more Tors on our map of Dartmoor, despite the weather. 

After such a splendid walk last Sunday, Monday's destination could have been a disappointment but this wasn't the case. Dartmoor is dramatic when the weather is unsettled, the clouds roll over the hills and threaten rain and drama. The showers can be seen in advance falling on the distant Tors so it makes us quicken our pace.

We decided on Beardown - not too far from a track where we could leave the car - in case we had to make a run for shelter. Once you are above the trees there is  little protection 

from the elements on this part of the moor. 
 It is part of the army firing ranges and so it is not always accessible to walkers.                We checked that there was no firing before setting off. Almost immediately we were met by a farmer on a quad bike who told us he was bringing the sheep off the moor so he asked us to step off the track while the sheep went by. The Collie was very impressed by the working dogs - who took no notice of our pampered pets! In  the past the farmers would have been on horseback. Last year we met a farmer who had farmed the moor all his life. He reckoned he had had his first pony at the age of three and ridden down into the town when he was old enough to start school, leaving his pony at the home of a convenient aunt. Quad bikes have replaced ponies now on the farms - and they looked a pretty exciting ride!

The Tardis looking hut on the edge of Beardown was evidence of the army's use of the moor as a training area. There are signs warning you not to touch any suspicious objects - try telling The Collie that!


We were pleased that The Lakeland managed to walk with us today. While she can be reluctant to do the early morning walk these days, she still enjoys Dartmoor and continues to amaze us with her agility and determination.

We watched the clouds begin to billow up and the rain begin to fall. You can literally see the showers coming towards you on this open moorland. It was time to head back to the car.


On Wednesday there was fog so The Curate and I checked the map for unvisited tors that were not too far from a road. The fog changes the atmosphere and character of the moor into a sinister and soulless place. If it isn't blanket fog, it swirls around you and one minute there are glimpses of a watery sun and the next - you cannot see fifteen foot in front of you.  

 

















In these the conditions the huge granite boulders and the towering tors are intimidating. We were very unadventurous and only walked across to Black's Tor. The fog cleared for a bit and we were rewarded with a view of the Meavy valley which you cannot see from the road. We walked down to the river and promised ourselves that we would walk this valley on a clearer day.
Good Friday saw the return of clearer weather and The Curate and I were up early to take our coffee and Hot Cross buns out onto the moor before the church services. Combestone Tor is the most accessible tor for visitors and the parking area was empty when we arrived. It is a great place to take less mobile visitors as you are high up and can see into the far distance - and sit in the car!! As a result of this - it gets busy and this was the case when we came down from our walk to Holne Ridge.

Horns Cross

We passed Horns Cross which was thought to mark the monks' way to Buckfast Abbey (I think). Holne moor is scattered with the remains of ancient hut circles and cairns - evidence of the past inhabitants of the moor.

The Collie in the entrance to his hut circle

Higher up there is evidence of the tin workings that used to provide employment in the area. The open cast mines are now overgrown and look like old river valleys - until you realise how many there are.                        Time for our coffee and hot cross buns and time to enjoy the space and silence (except for the skylarks that would streak suddenly upwards from the moorland in front of you -  singing their loudest songs in the clear blue skies).

And time for one last game with the rubber ball The Collie managed to find on a seemingly empty moor!

A little Closer to Heaven in Devon

It was Palm Sunday yesterday and as a Curate's wife, I should have been in church. I could have been processing with a donkey or I should have been singing worship songs. But I was singing praises from the rooftop of Devon! It was my birthday and the most beautiful sunny morning. Dartmoor, with its vast open spaces and stillness, called. The Curate and I were up before the crowds and I proved (to myself) that I am still young enough to climb to the top of the highest Tor on Dartmoor (Yes Tor) which is 619 metres above sea level. It is not the highest point on Dartmoor, Higher Willhays is supposedly a metre higher ...but that doesn't rate as a Tor - just a high hill. So The Curate, The Collie and I climbed up and down before lunch and before the day walkers arrived.

We crossed the dam at Meldon reservoir, looking across it's inky blue surface to  Dartmoor. Walking across the dam you see a serene water scene on one side and a deep valley on the other. It makes you appreciate how deep the reservoir must be.  The air was clear and cool, perfect walking weather and  we were alone.  We had to be back in time to have lunch with younger son and girlfriend (NQT), so we set off with a good pace over Longstone Hill.

It was one of those walks where you had to stop and stare, if only to catch your breathe as you are climbing upwards for most of the way. As the early mists cleared, the views were breath taking. We thought that we might be able to see the North coast and our old home. It was truely awe inspiring!. The moor is empty here, there is little gorse and no trees. The Collie still managed to find a tennis ball which he insisted we threw for him all the way up and down Yes Tor. 
 







There is such a sense of peace on a day like this ... .  

What a great way to start a birthday!

Saturday walk - Crazy Well pool

Our walk on Saturday followed yet more ancient crosses and took us to Crazywell Pool on Dartmoor. It's that time of year again when I start to think about swimming spots and I am always on the look out for suitable places for a dip. Crazy well pool looks inviting but there are strange and unhappy stories associated with it. I did not think this was a place I will be swimmming in in a hurry.

 
The Collie was not worried by the history and tested the waters on what was a unseasonably warm Saturday. Despite the warmth, he was determined to dry himself with a good run. It is great to have so much space to explore!

And then we see them... an army of walkers training for the Ten Tors Challenge that happens in May. Over two thousand young people will be taking part this year. Both our sons have completed the Bronze, Silver and Gold Challenges and they  became familiar with the moor through taking part. It was the end of a perfect training day for these young people and they were making for camp. Everywhere we looked they seemed to be heading towards us! Time to go home!

Friday Walk - laughter at Laughter Tor and Bellever at last!

I finally reached the top of Bellever Tor (443 metres)

On Thursday we parked in Bellever Forest car park to walk to Bellever Tor. The Curate assured me we needed to go through the village before parking the car and I trusted him - after all - who had a GPS for Christmas?  So we followed the path through the trees and out though the gate onto the moor. It was a glorious afternoon and  the dogs were enjoying the snow. We climbed higher and only stopped to take in the view and there behind us was.......

Bellever Tor! Whoops! We were climbing the wrong tor! Someone had left their GPS behind. The only time we had needed it because of the tall trees, it was sitting on our kitchen table. 

We climbed on and enjoyed wonderful views of the tor we were meant to be on and wonderful views of the snow sprinkled countryside.

When we got home we discovered that the tor we climbed was called Laughter Tor - which was very appropriate.                                                                  If we hadn't climbed this tor, we wouldn't have seen some amazingly clear icicles and some tremendous views from laughter Tor. 

Having failed several times before, we knew we had to make a fifth attempt to climb Bellever Tor

So today, we parked in a different forest car park. We walked through the forest of Christmas trees and I hoped The Curate knew where he was going this time. It is very easy to lose your sense of direction among rows of tall trees.

When we reached the edge of the plantation, our elusive tor came into view. Having attempted to reach this tor from various directions and in various weather conditions and failed, we were glad of the most perfect day we could wish for. It was clear, crisp and bright - superb walking weather!
We didn't actually have much of a walk because the path was  so well trodden. This is a very popular tor and we had it all to ourselves. (We must be the only people to fail to find the right path.)

The Dartmoor ponies led the way.

Do we really have to go up there?

This is an enclosed area for breeding the native Dartmoor pony. There were plenty of ponies for us to see. This one was breaking the ice with her hoof to get to the water underneath. She wasn't bothered by dogs or The Curate and I.

And we all enjoyed the view from the top.














 
What better place for contemplation.........and sermon writing!













 

Roll on the snow - our sledges are waiting!