A walk on Southern Dartmoor

The weather is set fair, very fair, so it's off to Dartmoor for a socially-distanced walk with friends. And a good time was had by all.

It's not often that we walk on the southern edges of Dartmoor and this one started on the outskirts of Ivybridge at Stowford Bridge. No, not of the ancient clapper variety but just a bog standard over-a-railway model. Our route took us up onto the moor, skirting Western Beacon and Butterdon Common to take us to a point just past Hangershell Rock. As the elevation profile shows, for just under 4 miles it was a steady ascent but nothing too strenuous, even in the sunshine. From there we dropped down off the moor to Harford and followed the River Erme back to Ivybridge. At 8 miles, this walk was the longest we'd done for a while. 

Looking back down the track we were on some 10 minutes after starting. And so it continued for the next 4 miles.

Looking due west towards the 'alps' of the China Clay workings at Lee Moor. Kaolin has been worked on Dartmoor since the early 1800s. Although production is much lower than in the past, China Clay still plays an important role in the local economy. The streak on the left is the scar of the open-cast Drakelands tungsten mine (which closed in 2018) at Hemerdon.

About 1 mile into the walk, we came across this track, which we followed for another mile or so. It is the bed of the Redlake Tramway, a railway built to carry supplies and workers between Bittaford and the clay workings at Redlake, near the centre of the southern part of the moor. It was built in 1911 to a 3 ft (914 mm) narrow gauge, and ran for a circuitous 8.3 miles. Although it took materials to the workings, it never carried clay in the reverse direction. This actually came down by gravity in a large pipe and ended up being processed at Bittaford.

I rarely feature people in my posts but this is for someone I know will be looking out for this one. I will point out that I'm only in front because I've got the remote control for my camera. Allowing for the perspective, we were all suitably socially distanced, except for those in a 'bubble'. 

Keen eyes are required to make out the line of stones heading up Piles Hill. We didn't venture further to take a closer look at them but this extract from a Dartmoor gazetteer whets my appetite to revisit them: "Stone alignments or stone rows consist of upright stones set in a single line or two or more parallel lines, up to several hundred metres in length. They frequently lead to burial monuments such as small cairns, cists and barrows and are therefore thought to have had a ceremonial function. The 70 or so examples known on Dartmoor were probably constructed in the Late Neolithic period (around 2500 BC). The Butterdon Hill single stone alignment runs for over 2km along the ridge between Butterdon Hill and Piles Hill and is the second longest stone alignment on Dartmoor".

A rather attractive natural collection...………….

A far less attractive unnatural collection. Why, oh why, do people behave so abysmally? It really does p**s me off. A pox upon them and may they be visited by a plague of boils and get suppurating pustules. Serves 'em right.

At this time of year, damp places on the moor are generally bedecked with the seed heads of Cotton Grass, which is neither cotton nor a grass. It's a sedge. If you ever want to distinguish a sedge from a grass or a rush, remember that 'sedges have edges', referring to their triangular shaped stems. Seasoned walkers know that it's best to avoid areas where they are growing in profusion as they are likely to be boggy.And if you want to go a little further into it - grasses are round and rushes are hollow - the stems, that is.

Cotton Grass in its natural state. I don't think the black and white version does it any justice at all. A couple of Cotton Grass facts for you: historically the seed heads would have been used to stuff pillows instead of goose down and were used for wound dressings in the First World War.

What never ceases to amaze me is how you can be ambling along some deserted lane in the middle of deep Cornish or Devonian countryside when a church will spring up from nowhere. The beautiful church of St Petrock’s at Harford is one such church lying in a secluded spot several miles upstream from Ivybridge on the river Erme. Unfortunately, but not unexpectedly, the church was closed but we will return for a visit.

Closed the church might have been but the churchyard was still open for a wander around. This one caught my eye: Captain Michael Farr who was in the infamous German POW camp of Colditz. Mr Google tells us: "Michael (Micky) joined up and was taken prisoner early in the (1939-45) war. He was held in Colditz for virtually the whole war. Afterwards he returned to live with his mother at Whingreen in Ivybridge. I understand they ran a self-sufficient small holding. He stayed there after his mother died and eventually died there himself, unmarried and without children. It is thought that his incarceration in Colditz damaged him considerably. The house has since been pulled down and replaced". I find that very sad.
But here's a more amusing anecdote I came across: "Prisoner Michael Farr, whose family ran Hawker's Gin (the sole purveyors of Sloe gin with a Royal Warrant), managed to make a sparkling wine dubbed "Château Colditz". Some prisoners would get black teeth or even temporary blindness from consuming this beverage — a condition known as "jam-happy" — as it contained many impurities. Although the German guards despised the drunken prisoners, they generally turned a blind eye to the distilling".

This headstone was a rather unexpected finding. I was looking closely at the background of some of the photographs I'd taken of the graveyard and noticed this one. I can't find anything about it via Mr Google but I expect a revisit to the church will give something of its history. 'Died of the awful visitation of cholera'. It resonates with our present time. But Mr Google does have this to say about the 1832 outbreak: "Devon suffered from proximity to ports such as Plymouth and Bideford - places where sailors came ashore already infected with cholera. The railways too, brought people from badly-infected areas such as London and Liverpool. But the true cause was the primitive level of sanitary arrangements throughout the county. In 1832, Devon was second only to London in its casualty rate and the Exeter outbreak in that year was well-documented by Thomas Shapter. The port of Dartmouth suffered badly and deaths spread to other places in the South Hams; at the same time, there was a serious outbreak in Plymouth. Another serious outbreak occurred in 1839 but it was the lengthy outbreak between 1849 and 1852 right across the county which killed local people in thousands, not hundreds".

A verdant lane taking us down towards the river. A very green time of year.

And into the very welcome shade of the mixed deciduous woodlands that run down through the Erme valley.

The Erme itself. Quite quiet here but, if you look at the elevation profile in the route map, you can get a good idea of how much it drops on its way down. We had the occasional glimpses of wagtails and dippers.

The gradient of the Erme increases as it approaches Ivybridge and, in several places, cuts its way through a series of 'gorges' and rockpools. It was obviously a spot where the locals came for a dip. But not for me. Just imagine how cold that water was coming off the moor. The power of the water was used for centuries by the Stowford Mill a little way downstream from here. Nowadays the mill is closed and is being converted into apartments.