Steps of Foreign Soil: October 2014

Occasionally I need to travel for work. Sometimes its to Africa, sometimes its to the middle-east, and this time it was to the UK. Normally work trips are pretty busy, so there isn't much time for sight seeing, and this was no exception. Well, it was busy, but there was a long weekend, and while I opted to work through most of the weekend, I did decide to take one day off.

Done Work for the Day

Walk in the Forest

Horses in the Forest in the City

Mud in the Forest

The Sound of the City Forest

During the week I also managed to walk around a bit, but not too far from our lodgings. Turns out that there are parks scattered all through Plymouth, and there was actually quite a bit to see. The wilderness is my kind of thing, and without too much difficulty, I found it.

Oh yes, back to the main piece of this story. I had no idea of what to do, and I had no idea as to how to get there. I looked on the internet to see what options were available to me. There were the typical oldish type things you find in the UK, and the typical sea type things you find being in a coastal city, but what ended up catching my eye was Dartmoor National Park.

I don't know how many of you are familiar with Sherlock Holmes, through I suspect it is 100% of you, but in the Hound of the Baskervilles, where they see the demon hound on the "moor," well, Dartmoor is the "moor" that they are talking about. Sherlock also spends a night our on the moor, and there he stays in the ruins of Grimspound, a bronze age settlement know for being the largest "stone circle" in Dartmoor.

Nature. Ruins. It sounded just up my alley. I still didn't have a ride, but I knew there was a bus into Plymouth, so it made sense that there should be a but heading out of Plymouth. I did a bit or frantic research, due to my last minute planning, and discovered that once a week there was a bus that headed from Plymouth to Exeter and back again on Sunday. It was a bus subsidized by the regional government to promote travel through the moor.

It was perfect.

I loaded up on supplies, packed my bag, and waited... until the next day. I was up, the weather was UKish, but the rain was holding back. There was only one bus, and only one chance, so I got to the stop early (which was actually quite complicated since I was a bit confused as to which side of the road to stand on given the UK's tendency to drive on the wrong side of the road), and I waited, again. The bus came, I managed to figure out how to pay (which was super cheap -- thank you subsidized bus), and we were on our way.

The route was a bit confusing, especially since part of it means driving down a long and abandoned road, stopping there, turning around, and then driving back. No worries, I was relatively sure that I was on the right bus, and so I just waited.

It was the right bus, we drove by a beautiful dam, through some beautiful towns, and then were onto the moor. There are lots of towns in Dartmoor, and lots of people living there. There are also an enormous number of sheep running around with different coloured markings on their back. The land is flatish with some rolling hills, and for the most part trees are few and far between. Most of the land is solid, but there are some bogs somewhere, and more than that, there is an air force weapons range in the North (which was the only real danger).

But anyways, as per my usual style I got a bit nervous about missing my stop, so I got off one stop early. That seems a bit OCD or something... I didn't think it would be an issue, and it wasn't, but it ended up being like a mile away from my real stop and I was on a very limited timeframe if I was to catch my bus on the way back. Oh well, I ended up in a beautiful little village called Postbridge. I went into the little store there, bought a map (which seemed like a good idea given that people periodically get lost on the moor when fog sets in, and since the weather was... UKish). I was back on the road, walking through town, and towards my destination.

Postbridge

Big Hill

Several amazing photo opportunities later, and the witnessing of one sheep getting hit by a car (don't worry, he was fine, just tipped over and rolled away like a loose sausage), I made it to my real stop, which was the Warren House Inn. The inn is known for its high altitude (434 m) and continuously burning fire since 1845. Nice little spot, but I didn't have time to look, I had only a few hours to find Gimspound, and then return to the inn to catch the bus.

As I took my bearings and set out I could already see a few of the "stone circles" from the inn. Turns out that they are everywhere, and that in the bronze age Dartmoor was a happenin' place. I found a path that headed in the right direction, and I headed with it. That was it. All of the hustle and bustle to get to Dartmoor, and I was just leisurely strolling through nature.

It is a beautiful place to walk, but I won't dare try to describe it; my photos will do that for me.

Flogamopatropses

Wall in the Middle of Nowhere

Small Stone Circle

I saw other walkers periodically, as they climbed the tors (big mo-fo rocks on the tops of hills), or followed paths through the little nooks and crannies. I walked passed a sizeable stone circle, and along an abandoned wall, then through some ruins of who knows what, then along another wall, then over by a farm (still in use), then into a smaller stone circle, and then I was there. I wasn't at Grimspound quite yet, but it was only a few hundred metres away. I gauged the time, gauged my map, and made a plan to see as much as humanly possible.

A House... Once upon a time?

Hookney Tor

I started by climbing Hookney Tor, which overlooks Grimspound. The tor itself was impressive, and Grimspound moreso. I could also see Hameldown Tor on the other side of Grimspound, with Grimspound nestled between the valleys of Hoonek and Hameldown. As I stood on Hookney Tor and surveyed the moor I could also see the King Tor and King's Barrow. I looked at my watch, made a judgement call, hopped down the massive stones, and took of running across the moor.

It did occur to me that most of the hikers must have thought that I was a bit, or a lot, nuts, but I had only a small amount of time, and much to see. I was actually impressed at my endurance, given that running isn't something that I do, or should do for that matter. But, across the moor I went. There were many paths that I could follow, and when they turned a way that displeased me I was off the path and going cross country over the grass and bushes. It sounds all good, but there were a few times when I almost tripped in hidden little holes, and every once in a while, if I thought too much about it, I had to stop to catch my breath, and resist puking from the exertion. However, as long as I didn't think, all I had to do was run.

Creeping at the King's Barrow

I made it to the barrow. I could only wonder at the name, having no way to check the history of the place, and I came across another hiker taking shelter in the sheltered circle of earth. I did not disturb him, but looked around, and moved on. Another group of hikers had come down from Hameldown and was on the way to the King's Barrow, but by the time they got there, I was long gone. Mind you, the moor has no trees, so as they approached I could only imagine their thoughts as that slightly insane lone hiker took off at a sprint across the moor and up towards Hameldown.

Yeah, I was impressed with my endurance during my first run, but during my second, and uphill, my endurance began to wane. I like to think I just had more to take photos of, which might be true, but maybe I just needed more breaks.

Moor Ponies

Hameldown Tor

There was more to see though, with an old post marker, and with the moor sheep, and then moor ponies, and then Hameldown Tor. Another tor, and another glorious view of Grimspound. Running out of time, I headed down past the ponies, and to Grimspound.

It is a considerable settlement, though no one really knows what for. It is not in a defensible position, though its wall was considerable, and thus, still potentially defensible. There are the remnants of many buildings, and they are open for visitors to explore at will. The walls have long since been toppled, and it appears that the stones have been plundered, but their outlines still exist, and one can walk from hut to hut and dream of what kind of place it must have been, and what kind of people must have lived there. there are still some very impressive stones making a path up to Hookney Tor, and an excellent drainage channel that shows at least some basic engineering knowledge, and the use of their big rocks to make bridges theory.

Grimspound

It was amazing.

I wasn't alone, but I had been much of the day, and with only a few people scattered about it still preserves that sense of solitude. It was one of those perfect moments, where everything seemed right with the world.

And then it was over. I needed to head back to the inn, and as I did I could feel my knee joint locking together from my yet un-addressed muscle imbalance in my leg (seriously evolution, why would you give me such huge quads and yet tiny tiny hamstrings?). Still, it was amazing, and still perfect, though a bit sore.

A light rain cooled me from my runs and I made my way back to the Warren House Inn by retracing my steps back.

Amazing.

You might think that it couldn't get any better, but it could. I went to the inn, having a few minutes before my bus, and ordered a coke and an ice cream.