About Me

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Bristol , United Kingdom
Poet and poetry facilitator. Neurodishevelled. My sixth poetry collection, Love the Albatross, is available from Indigo Dreams or directly from me.
Showing posts with label River Dart. Show all posts
Showing posts with label River Dart. Show all posts

Wednesday, 19 April 2023

A poetry jaunt to Devon

On Saturday poetry took me to Teignmouth in Devon for the launch of Rosie Jackson's new collection 'Love Leans over the Table', at which I was reading two poems, so I decided to make a day of it and visit my favourite place, which is Dartmoor.

Because of needing my energy for the reading, I decided not to do much of a walk, but instead drove right across the moor from Tavistock to Ashburton, stopping off on the way at a couple of favourite places. 

The first of these was the car park below Cox Tor, where I parked to walk along the Grimstone and Sortridge leat that skirts Barn Hill on Whitchurch Common to Windy Post Cross. 


Beckamoor Brook



The aqueduct carrying the Grimstone and Sortridge Leat over Beckamoor Brook


The Grimstone and Sortridge Leat, with Vixen Tor in the middle distance


Clapper bridge over the leat


Apparently, there was once a smithy here, and this is a wheelwright's stone, the wheel and spokes being assembled on the flat surface, with the hub fitting into the dip in the middle. The rim of the wheel, which was made of iron, would then be heated on a forge, dropped onto the wheel and quenched with cold water, which had the effect of shrinking the rim to a tight fit.


Pregnant Dartmoor hill ponies


Windy Post (or Beckamoor) Cross, dating from the 15th century and probably replacing a much earlier cross, coming into view on the horizon.





Where the leat splits, originally to provide farms near Pew Tor and Moortown with water


I could see a crow perched on gorse over on Feather Tor, and that, combined with the arrival of a party of people led by a shouty man, was enough to send me scuttling over for a bit of a sit-down.


Pew Tor from Feather Tor


Looking back at Windy Post Cross, now being used as a scratching post by a black cow


A bunch of feathers from a ring-necked pheasant, some of them blood feathers; this didn't end well

After walking back to the car park, I drove on across the moor, turning right before Dartmeet to cross the West Dart at Hexworthy and stopping at Combestone Tor, which is conveniently near the road and provides fabulous views of the high moor and what goes, somewhat inelegantly, by the name of the Double Dart Gorge. 



A quizzical Dartmoor Blackface sheep


Looking west, with Longaford Tor and Bellever Tor on the horizon



Looking east




Hameldon Beacon, Honeybag Tor, Chinkwell Tor and Bell Tor, Sharp Tor, Haytor, Saddle Tor, Rippon Tor, Buckland Beacon


Dartmeet, centre, middle distance


Wild strawberry flowers




Then on to Shaldon and a quick change from moor mode to poetry mode in the ladies loos by Smuggler's Tunnel, the lane leading to which was full of primroses, violets and wild strawberry flowers. I was gasping for a mug of tea by this point, and hurried down to the Clipper in the hope of partaking while sitting on the jetty, but it had just closed; no matter, the Alice Cross Centre, where the launch of Rosie's collection was taking place, had, in  addition to a bar, a kettle and tea bags, so that was fine. 

And the evening was fine too; it was a privilege to be part of it among so may illustrious poets, not least Rosie.


Graeme Ryan, Jean Grimsey, Sue Proffitt, me, Helene Demetriades, Rosie Jackson, Wayne Smith, Ian Royce Chamberlain, and cellist Eliza Jacobs


Saturday, 3 September 2022

August Ban Collie Day at Wistman's Wood and Cox Tor

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. 







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!