Cwtch doesn't care for Ban Collie Days; in fact, she gets quite peevish when they roll around. As for their homonyn, Bank Holiday Days, I'm not mad keen on them either, on account of the crowds and traffic jams, but Dartmoor is the place to go if you want to get away from it all, so we did.
And as we hadn't been there for some years, and it's an easy walk on a hot day, we settled on a wander up to Wistmans Wood.
Coming into view
Following the unpleasant incident with cow shit on the Gwent Levels the other day - and in view of the fact there were sheep in the vicinity - Cwtch stayed on the lead, but it didn't seem to prevent her from enjoying her surroundings.
As we advanced up the valley, I watched a raven doing circuit-and-bumps along the Beardown Tors, but apart from its occasional shouts, it was quiet, the West Dart being too low to make any noise as it limped down over the boulders.
Crow Tor - one of my favourites - was visible on the horizon, but we weren't walking that far today.
Notices request that you walk around rather than through Wistman's Wood, so as to avoid damaging the fragile habitat - and the adders that live there. (OK, I added that second bit, though actually, when I did bump into a live adder, a long time ago now on Meldon Hill, it was fascinating rather than terrifying.) (Though I wouldn't want Cwtch anywhere near one.) (Despite having an adder pack.)
In respect of this, we perched just inside the edge of the wood, and looked up and all around at the amazing lichens and mosses that hang like washing from a line, while a robin kept a beady eye on us to make sure we didn't trespass any further.
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After a while we exited the wood and headed a little further up the valley. This is the view looking back down, with Wistman's Wood on the right and the West Dart hidden in the valley.
gorse and ling
Then we popped back into the shade for a bit.
As we'd got up quite early to reach Dartmoor at a sensible hour, it was now time to head back to the Dartmoor Inn at Merrivale for a light lunch. On the way a large Southern Hawker, which must have been at least three inches long, gave me a good looking-over, before flying off just as I was about to take a photo.
Beardown Plantation and the West Dart
After a little refreshment we headed for Cox Tor, which we last visited nearly two years ago, just after the death of our old collie, Ted.
Looking back towards Tavistock
Roos Tor
Cox Tor
Looking towards Plymouth Sound and the River Tamar
I've started thinking of this as Grief Tor, and it does feel like attrition to climb it, though the views are comforting. And having seen collie angels last time we were here, it felt right to be accompanied this time by our own beguiling little Cwtch ...
... and a passing foal that stopped for a cuddle (much to the dog's chagrin).
Stand-off!
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