The forecast was just great - a clear, moonlit evening with the space station overhead. So no surprise to drive through the mist and drizzle to Whiteworks. Only one place to go. Somewhat windily across the mire and a paddle. Round by the stream and endlessly over the tussocks until Goldsmith's finally arrived. A bit better going up to the wall and over the tricky stile. Into Whealham Bottom as the moon managed to peep through the gloop and even a star. Along, along until a nice track emerged to take us down toward Nun's Cross. Round the leat and coming towards us lots of bright, bright lights; some red some green. Just what could it be? Theories included the rescue group or a jolly party out of the Plume heading for a night in the farm. Still, no matter, they weren't interested in us so back to the car. And along the road there they were, lots of soldiers bivouacing for the night in muddy puddles. And some think we are daft. The Plume was well closed so to the ever reliable Prince of Wales. A proper Dartmoor evening.