The weather is improving and I've been dragging a pair of dogs all over Dartmoor at every opportunity. The first such foray into these longer walks gave us all a bit more of a hike than I was counting on. I was following a 7-mile circular route from Manaton, down the Bovey Valley then cutting across to Lustleigh and then back to Manaton via Lustleigh Cleave.
I parked at the public car park in Manaton, my first visit to that village. It is safe to say that I have never set foot in a more unfriendly village. I was stared at as if no one had ever seen a dog before, some people didn't even reply to my "good morning" greeting, and the locals would rather run me over at speed on the narrow lanes than wait for me & 2 dogs to get out of the way for them to pass. Luckily I did find one friendly resident in a stable yard who asked me about the dogs and pointed me in the right direction for the foot path which was eluding me in spite of my written directions. I should have realised then that my directions were less than ideal.
It was a route I found online - someone's blog, I think. Anyway whoever recorded the walk must have been doing it from memory, and it turns out he has a pretty rubbish memory. Several of the route markers listed were in the wrong order so that I passed the "kissing gate below large boulders" before stumbling purely by chance upon the "wooden bridge over the stream" listed sometime before. And then occasionally, in the middle of of the Forest of Nowhere, there would be crossroads signposted in obscure directions that didn't get a mention at all - "Lower Combe" huh? - "Manaton via Water" er, I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to be headed for "Foxworthy" (wherever that may be).
This was the reason I managed to add a whole extra hour onto the beginning of the walk by accidentally (and illegally, as the paths are meant for paying customers, apparently. Oops.) taking the slippery, steep and rather treacherous and fun Red Route circuit of
Becky Falls. Oh, and apparently dogs are meant to be on lead there. Oops again. But it was all the fault of the poor directions. Yes it was.
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| Neka & Tuuli posing by Becky Falls |
It was a lovely diversion, although I was rather dismayed to find myself right back where I started once I finished the circuit. It did give me the opportunity to pass the Money Tree, though. Legend has it that a serpent lives in the river near this spot and occasionally devours unsuspecting travellers. By leaving a coin in the Money Tree, the spirits of the place (Pixies) will make you invisible to the serpent so that you can pass unmolested. Anyone who dares to
take a coin from the Money Tree will arouse the wrath of the Pixies. "You have been warned" reads the info sign, and by the vast number of coins tucked into the nooks and crannies of the tree, no one does dare to face Pixie ire. I'm a big fan of woodland spirits, so needless to say, I didn't pass without leaving an offering.
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| Many coins in the Money Tree |
Eventually we got on the correct path and things went well all the way down to territory around the
Clam Bridge, an area familiar to me from my regular walks coming from the other direction. A clam bridge, in case you don't know, is the most basic of constructions, comprising a flattened tree trunk slung over a river with, if you're lucky, a single hand rail. Why it's called a clam bridge, I don't know. Unless it's because you have to clam-ber out of the river after falling off the bridge.
Luckily this particular Clam Bridge has recently had a new, safer replacement built next to it so I am in rather less danger of tumbling into the Bovey on a regular basis. But here's what it looked like before the new addition. Rustic and romantic, to be sure, but precarious as the devil too.
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| Clam Bridge, Bovey Valley, Dartmoor |
From there, the long but relatively easy climb up the other side of the valley, all the way to Heaven's Gate at the top. When you reach the top and catch glimpses of the views over the unfortunately tall hedgerows, it's easy to see where the name came from.
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| Last leg of the climb to Heaven's Gate |
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| View from Heaven's Gate down toward Pethybridge |
You have no doubt heard that what goes up must come down, and take it from me, when one is walking long distances, the opposite of that adage is even more true. (If a true thing
can be more or less true, that is.) So it was with rather mixed feelings that I "enjoyed" this long, steep descent through Pethybridge into the famously picturesque Dartmoor village of Lustleigh.
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| Pretty Lustleigh lane |
Lustleigh has a famous pub,
The Cleave, which I had never visited before. I can now highly recommend it for welcoming, dog-friendly service, delicious-smelling food and a small but beautifully situated beer garden.
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| Break for a drink and a rest at The Cleave |
And it's a very good place indeed to stop for a rest when you're about to get lost and do approximately 3 times more climbing than you had bargained for. A pretty climb, though, to be sure, and I picked a lovely spot to stop for lunch that I estimated to be about half-way to the top. Of course it turned out to be nowhere near halfway to the top. By the route we ended up on, at any rate.
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| Leaving Lustleigh, headed for that distant hill. In theory. |
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| Lunch break |
I'm not sure at which point I realized I had gone somewhat off course. But I was running out of water, could see an unscheduled tor in the not-very-far-distance and there was no sign whatsoever of a path leading back down into the cleave, where I knew I had to be. I was much higher than I was supposed to be, but the views were breathtaking. The more off the course I wandered, the better the views, and the more I worried about how little water I had left, how tired I already was, how much my feet hurt, and how far I still was from my car or any kind of civilization. And to cap it all off, my phone was running out of juice too, so I didn't dare take any photos. Here is one I did take before I realized just how wrong my location was.
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| "Aren't we supposed to be over there?" |
I checked my location on Google maps and discovered just how far I still was from Manaton. Then,
just in case, I sent that map home in a text for when a search and rescue team had to be dispatched to find me at some point after nightfall. By now I had covered 14.4 km, or the best part of 9 of the 7 miles I was expecting. And, according to my route tracker, in these 9 miles I had climbed 1,345 metres! More than 4000 feet! Can that be true? That's as high as
Ben Nevis, the highest mountain in Britain. Granted I didn't climb all those feet in one go, but it sure felt like it.
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| I'm that dot - on the wrong side of the valley. |
It was unexpectedly sunny and warm up there exposed to the elements, but I found some rainwater collected in the hollow of a rock so the dogs could get a drink. Determined to find a path down the valley, I stomped onward over the grassy moor through gorse and an ancient orchard. This was rabbit country, apparently, so in addition to being hot, thirsty and tired, I also had to drag two dogs who were on a mission to hoover up all the poo they could find. Finally I had to concede defeat and re-trace my steps back down towards Lustleigh. At this point, if I had had someone I could call to come and rescue me, then that is exactly what I would have done and covered the miles between Lustleigh and my car at Manaton in comfort. However, I don't and I didn't so I couldn't.
At this point my phone was getting seriously low on charge so I switched it off and unfortunately lost the use of my route tracker at the same time. This is what I got before switching off.
So I don't know exactly how much further I ended up having to walk, nor how much climbing was involved. Unfortunately. Because it was a lot. I estimated an extra 5 kms or so, but looking now at the map it was probably more than that. And much climbing. MUCH. And no, it didn't only
feel like a lot. Although, to be sure, it did indeed feel like a lot. Because where I was supposed to cut across from point 12 on the map above in pretty much a straight line down and up the valley to Manaton, I simply could not find the right path and so I actually went from point 12 back to point 6 and then retraced the whole rest of the route back. Needless to say, this time I was careful to avoid the additional illegal detour around the falls.
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| Even Tuuli was happy to pause for a rest on a bench nearly back to Manaton |
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| We were all glad to get back home. |
So I am officially through with following the badly written directions of random morons on the internet. I have booked myself onto a compass & map reading course and I'm looking forward to getting lost on Dartmoor many more times. Until then perhaps I should stick to familiar routes. But, on second thoughts, nah - what would be the fun in that?
