WW 29th April 2020

What a wonderful balmy evening, so different from the last time we set off from the top of the poshest road in Tavistock up to the 'Pimple'. Designed by Lutyens, built in 1914 to mark an underground reservoir on Whitchurch Down.  No water there now but a pleasant spot to sit to enjoy the view across Whitchurch Down to Pew Tor. We head down to find the small gate at the start of the footpath to Holwell and on to Caseytown. Enjoying the hedgerows resplendent in the blue, pink and white of bluebells, campion and cow parsley. Crossing the road and on across fields and through gateways where the earth once ankle deep in mud is now hard and rutted from the hooves of animals. No getting mislaid this time we find a very interesting array of farmyard machinery guarded by noisy geese and pop out onto Plasterdown. No sign now of the Army Camp which in 1943 became 115 Station  Hospital caring for the wounded from D Day. It later housed Polish refuges at the end of the war. In the 1960's it was a WRAC station and later again housed refuges of displaced Ugandan Asians expelled by Idi Amin. It had it's own school. Shame it was demolished in 1976, perhaps then Tavistock could once again have become a refuge for displaced people.

We cross to find the the Grimstone and Sortridge leat where it joins the path to Sourtridge Farm. Right, here to Boyton. A nice gentle walk until we go down down to Budghill and up up to Middlemoor and back to the Pimple.

Good timing still light at 9.30. Then back down, Down road to the welcoming Market Inn for a change where the beer is cheaper.

Stella

TWW 28th April 2020

Too warm for full waterproofs but off we set in light drizzle from the village centre, past pub and school to the footpath towards the church.

Across the fields gangs of lambs gallop about like naughty children as we take the firm grassy path up the slope. Soon we are walking by the church wall and the beautiful sight and perfume of blue bells in Ward House's garden is breathtaking. The trees commemorate Queen Victoria's Jubilee in 1898 and were 60 in number originally.

Up to the fragmented cross and over the stile to follow the footpath northwest through 5 fields and into the old droving lane above Holewell Farm and out on to the open moor. We follow the hedge boundary around crossing the recently disused Routrundle leat. This flowed through Dittisham and on to Huckworthy Mill. 

At the hut circles south of Routrundle we head up through squelchy ground to the railway and start a bit of a march past Horseyeatt and Peek Hill Farm. We keep going until we cross the new railway bridge..grey views today. The old tramway can be seen crossing the fields over the farm lane.

The steps down to the road are quite grassy not much used we guess. Over the road and to the Plymouth Moretonhampstead milestone...where is the Dousland one we wonder...its 2 miles 'til the one at Yelverton bus stop. Along the broad grassy verge past bright campions we reach the crossroads. Quick peep at Yennadon cross then the long downhill to Welltown (sorry knees!!). Lush ferns unfurl above dense clumps of bluebells. Redtailed bumble bees forage heavily.

Through Welltown and past a shaft of an old waymark cross..on left, opposite an old bridlepath to Peek Hill Farm. A shame it is "unfriendly" and cannot be part of our route.

Along the road we swing right toward the church and this time enter the church yard. It is locked but we are drawn to the grave of 8 year old George Gray who in 1843 was placed in charge of some horses got lost in the mist and although found 2 days later perished from his experience.

Now back through the sheep field and at the pub our pre-ordered take aways are nearly ready to collect. Even beer. We cannot eat them there but take them back to our homes. Some will eat them immediately, especially the chips and others might keep their pies until later !!

(Recommend you look at several DartmoorCam walks for many photos, varying routes, poetry plaques and interesting links concerning Walkhampton ,its neighbouring farms and features.)

Anne

WW 22nd April 2009

Now
that's a lot better
a proper plodge
felt like
someone on a mission
round and out to Hunt
no tea break
through the rising cool mist
to Kitty
allowed a brief tea break
to Green, both Dunna Goats
Great Links
circuitously back to
Fox and Hounds
Nice

TWW 21st April 2020

When we did this walk last year, we agreed to make it an annual spring walk and so it was, as we set off from the NT car park with overcast skies, and a cool breeze. Down the lane past Coombe Farm to join up with the Saints Way for 400 metres to take us out to St Catherine’s Point and the castle remains, with a magnificent view of the mouth of the river Fowey. Fowey to the west and Polruan to the east. By now the sun was trying to make an appearance. We turned west and followed the SW Coast Path to Polridmouth cove, where a cuppa was enjoyed admiring the magnificent scenery. On and along the coast  through Gribbin Woods and the magnificent display of ransoms, pink campion and bluebells, out onto the Gribbin Head (an Gribyn in Cornish) to admire the 26 metre tall Gribbin Daymark looking resplendent in its red and white livery. On through more woods and bluebells before stopping for a picnic on the cliff tops overlooking Platt beach, being careful not to sit on the early purple orchids just starting to show, another couple of weeks before they are at their best. The attached photo taken on a previous walk. The clouds had now receded, the sun was warm and pleasant. Refreshed and energised, more coastal path and down through the steep banks of ransoms, (so profuse it was as if through snow) to the picturesque cove of Polkerris, normally an ice cream among the excited sounds of children in the sea, but not this year!! We joined the Saints Way at Tregaminion church and followed it through the lovely countryside to Lankelly Farm, down the lane to the car park. The sun was hot by now

A delightful if illusionary day!!

TGB

WW 15th April 2020

The wind howling up the valley on Monday brought to mind a walk we did earlier this year:-

It's a long drive from anywhere to Fionnphort Jetty and on arrival it seemed rather deserted and doubtful that the ferry would be running in such winds. But lo and behold seconds later a ferry comes into view rolling and tossing in the heavy seas, it quickly grinds onto the ramp and we all manage to dodge waves to get aboard, last man a bit behind as he has been changing his shoes. A shirtsleeved captain appears on the bridge gesturing " get on the f...... ferry" he shouts. And off we go. 15 mins later we are on The Island of Iona.

A gentle walk through the ruins of the old nunnery with its beautiful coloured stonework to the abbey. Huge carved crosses near the entrance and a sense of peace and tranquillity inside. Lunch in the beautiful cloisters, sheltered from the wind.

Now it's out into the teeth of the gale to walk to the other coast. The road past a farm and some crazy men working on a roof ends at a gate, beyond which is probably the most exposed golf course in the country. No fairway or greens here just sand blown off the beach with a couple of tattered flags sticking out of it. Down onto the beach and the unbridled power of the sea - wow.

An easier return with the wind behind us. Will the ferry still be running the wind seems stronger than ever? Sure enough the man in the shirtsleeves surfs in on a wave drops his bow door and this time we are on in seconds and back we go. GOOD OLD CALMAC!

Mike

TWW 14th April 2020

A favourite walk which we haven't done in it's entirety for some time but as we are all fit and rested from our daily local walks over the last few months we are keen for a good brisk 10 miler back on the Moors.

Out from Postbridge, the refurbished Visitors Centre looking good. Along the East Dart following the contours of the hill till we get to the steam then west over the wall to follow the leat. As we haven't had rain for three months it's easy to cross the river by the island. Then with Misty in the lead up up to Sittaford Tor. We pick out Stats House on Winney's Down and the majestic twin stone circles of Grey Wethers to the east. Down and over the stream to the wonderful remains of Teignhead Farm. A very pleasant place to stop for lunch. While we rest we are reminded of the legend of Grey Wethers as told on the Dartmoor Nation Park website.

The legend goes that a flock of sheep belonging to one named Zorac was turned to stone by Bellus the Sun God because Zorac, not wanting to sacrifice one of his own sheep for the Midsummer Festivities stole one from a neighbour. Zorac sickened and died and was buried beneath the cairn on Cosdon Hill. So since then every Midsummer's Eve at midnight the stones turn back into sheep. The story continues that should you manage to shear one before daylight you will be made up for life but beware as always, terms and conditions apply and you might end up like poor old Lynhur who was found flattened rather than rich when the sun rose.

We head out over the old bridge turning south to the stones and on along the lovely ridge past hut circles and settlements before making a short detour to the Sheepfold.

We take a short break on Hartland Tor to survey the wonders of the open Moor before heading back to Postbridge for cream tea and ice creams at the Post Office.

Lovely!

Stella

WW 8th April 2020

The lovely purple toothwort never disappoints and it thrives down on the Tamar. (This picture taken by Mike near his home.)
It would have been a really lovely evening to set out from Tamar Trails. To take the steep track down to Bedford United Mine and admire the barred shaft. Down, down and along the dismantled railway hiding in the woods to pick up the main drag. Over the gate and to the river - not over sure we should be here - no matter because we aren't. And this is where the hunt begins and there will be lots and lots of it as soon as you 'get your eye in' as my dear mother used to say. Worth hugging the river a fair old way now although the path is a bit indistinct. To round the bend by Wheal Frementor and pop up to the track through Blanchdown Wood. Uppety up by Wheal Fanny and then nice time for a cuppa and what is definitely the best swing in the whole wide world. Over to the chimney and through the tips where nothing grows. By the calciners to study the information in the old mine office. And now amazingly a really clean, clear, wide concrete track. Until recently it was just a great big load of mud. Who cleared it and why - let's hope it is still clear when we get back. To potter down and back to the cars. In such perfect time (when you are not there) to make our way to Chip Shop - it will always be the Chipshop Inn to us!
Committee
PS well worth getting the map from Beech Cafe.

TWW 7th April 2020

A beautiful day for our adventure. The green at Horndon peppered with spring flowers. Lady's Smock, primroses,  a hint of dark bluebells along the hedge and narcissi spilling out of the cottage gardens. We note the socket stone and the curious tower on the barn turned chapel turned barn. Past the tiny shabby cottage where miners once slept in rota and then where the cars turn, the fallen tree. The lane narrows and we are soon descending the steep slate track.

 For once it is dry and no slippery slate but care still needed. Soon we reach the leat path and follow it through Creason Wood . Brimstones flutter lazily in the sun and primroses fight for space with mosses in rocky clefts. Fish flee away in the leat or are they just having races?

On toward Hill Bridge and an agreeable place for an early coffee stop. Chocolate Krispie Easter "nests" for all consumed eagerly. Here the Tavy was once crossed by a clapper bridge but river speeds and levels are ferocious here after heavy rain. The present bridge replaces previous structures with addition of the weir and channels for fish and HEP.

Crossing the bridge we can see the remains of the wheel pit for Hill Bridge Mine and we also look up the road for the County Stone denoting responsibility of Devon for maintenance.  It being dry we take the footpath across the fields rather than Wapsworthy route. Staying on the road we reach the bridle path and turn left towards Brousentor Farm once inhabited by Reg Fuge of Fuge's Post "fame". Brousentor itself is close to a little track N.W. of Baggator before the conifers. Opposite the farm to north of track to Baggator , Dartefact hunters are keen to see ancient stone steps in the wall. To where? A fence on top prevents further access.

We then follow the permissive footpath to remain on the eastern side of the Tavy until we reach the newly restored timber bridge at Standon Steps. Here A.K. reveals an historical photo of the bridge and the clue to it's original builders, prisoners from the POW camp at Bridestowe. We clamber below to see the 1946 plaque somewhat weathered now. The little girl in the photo is unknown but is likely to have lived nearby at Willsworthy and is probably from the Roskilly or Abel family. She would be about 80 now maybe.

We take the track west towards Willsworthy,  past the bridge and Lichway , the horses are enjoying being out in the fields and we stay on the road towards Zoar to choose a picnic spot out of the breeze. Is the chapel yet another Dartefact? I think so. 

So much of interest in such a small area and we have only touched the surface. We will return to do this for real one day but in the meantime enjoy the rich pickings and photos of our route and sightings from sites such as Dartmoorcam.co.uk Dec 2013 and Aug 2010, Johnnie's Meanderings Jan 2014 Dartefacts, Woodland Trust, Legendary Dartmoor re County Stones and Bridges

Dartmoor walks..www.richkni.co.uk, torsofdartmoors.co.uk, treksandtors, Standon Farm pdf format Tom Greeves, or  Google Images for quick visual refs as well as your favourite Dartmoor books including Dartmoor 365.

Finglewoods.org.uk for POW info and also look up Bridestowe Prisoner of war camp . 

Happy virtual walking !!

Anne

WW 1st April 2020

Now, just where was I going to go ...
Up nice and steadily from the cars and by the rather buried hut circles to the flat bit. Along, along to the tor which, apparently, some brave folk have been known to climb. Not left this time but right. Right gently down to what sometimes is a busy road, no traffic today. By the rock that always looks like a cow chewing the cud and softly up to the darkest of tors where, it is alleged, once was a logan. (And no I don't think he stopped it rocking.) Somewhat steeply down to that sheltered spot where we often had a cuppa. Be a bit early this evening. Now the tricky bit to find the crossing, through the splodge and up with the lights afar to where we once had fairy cakes - remember? In the dark a bit tricky to make the track but along by the smiley stone to cross. Steadily up to the tor where not so long ago we all took a rest. Time to skip on as time is drawing by and on to cross the clapper and seek the cross and hole. Now this is always a nice spot for a cuppa. Oh dear me, getting a bit late, may miss the prime directive ... So speedily along the easy to find track by the rushing water, by the pipe and just time to spot the First Nation. Uppety up and over. Back to the cars perfectly by 0937 to make even more perfect time to the pub that is not - for a bit.
'Brenda'

Some words and pictures especially for Brenda – which I know she is happy to share …

Cold air on my face, fresh, slight smell of farmyard manure.

Yellows. Rich daffodil yellow, pale primrose yellow, golden dandelion yellow.

Violets violets

White stars of stitchwort

Fresh green leaves, buds of hawthorn

Sounds of evening bird song with a backing of wood pidgin.

Water overflowing from the pond

The still air of evening, winding down of the day

Childhood memories of dawdling home from school along the lane, head down looking to see what was different from yesterday's walk

Peaceful

Stella

Out of the door, up the street, through the woods seeing no one to meet. To the fields, spring birds sing and soar, this is enjoyable, hardly a chore.

Journey on, hello horses, dog training courses, along the lane, rugby club closed, devoid of beer and bawdy cheer.

Across the old cart track, down the hill, there’s the old school, where children used to rule and play the fool.

This route I never tire, the fast-New road to Bickleigh I do admire, with its military camp, green and old church spire.

Up Little Dock lane, climbing the slope, smelling the silage, my legs give me hope. Passing a beech tree peering on high, its huge branches spreading - reaching the sky.   

Over the cattle grid to Roborough Down, my face just beaming and not with a frown. Past the dry leat where animals once drank, I suppose it’s climate change we’re having to thank.

Crossing the main road, turning the hour, down sheep tracks I strode, onward to home, gorse in flower, smelling sweet, better than walker’s feet!

But first past the ‘B’ stone set in a hedge, past the Dartmoor Dinner where it’s known for meat and two veg.

Down the hill speckled with litter to Bickleigh Cross and Roborough Rec, into the Village, the shut Lopes, what the heck, I’m not bitter. Memories of lunch for a walker’s bunch, long table, laughter and banter, we’ll be back I hope at a canter.

Past the Vets and Brownie’s Hall where in better days bingo was once the call. Eco houses now pass me by, my walk is nearing the end, I can’t not lie.

On this occasion I was on my own, no one with me all alone, although walkers past and present were on my mind, all united, common in kind.

We live to walk, we live to talk, friendship on the road we do not baulk.

…………until the next one.

Charlie

It started badly- crass respect for nature in abundance as the latest development is thrown up. Then a beautiful old path blocked off and now becoming overgrown. As it was dry a slow wander through the marsh seem to be called for. Again, beautiful poplar trees that had been felled - just left to rot where they were dropped. But then a purple gleam amongst the devastation- purple toothwort - everywhere, a rare plant in abundance. A little further on a glow of bright yellow - western skunk cabbage - a large yellow arum Lilly, an unusual import from America.

Nature will always find a way to shine through, and above all we mustn't let the politics ruin our day.

Mike