Not the best day for a walk but we did it!

Given the less-than-attractive weather forecast, sensible people stayed indoors in the dry and warm. But as six of us were not sensible enough to be daunted by the prospect of getting wet and cold, our regular monthly walk went ahead. And, at the end of it, we were very glad that we did. What could be better than getting out and enjoying the countryside?


Our route: starting and ending in Milton Abbot and negotiating a mixture of fields (wet fields), country lanes and green lanes (wet green lanes). Clocked at just under 7 miles, it felt more because of the leg-sapping tramping across soggy fields and a few generous inclines. But it was enjoyable and one to be repeated when the sun is shining.

St Constantine's church at Milton Abbot. It dates from the 14th century but we didn't have time to visit. Something for the future?

Looking west towards Bodmin Moor. It struck me just how many man-maid things were reaching up from the landscape - telegraph poles, storage silos on farms, the tower of Dunterton church and the ever increasing number of wind turbines.

In the hamlet of Meadwell, we came across a group of cottages with this name. Who was Sophia? Who had named the cottages after her? Some doting husband? A secret admirer?

Across the way was the mirror image called Arthur Cottages. Arthur? Who was he and what was his relationship, if any, to Sophia? I haven't been able to find out but I'm speculating that these are the names of two members of the Kelly family, the local 'nobility'. It is probable that it was the Kelly family who built these houses in the first place for their estate workers.  I could be wrong but it seems reasonable.

Roadside artwork, with no visible attribution. It's always pleasing to come across something quirky.

Despite the overcast skies, rain clouds, rain showers and whatever else nature threw at us, one constant feature of the walk were the views. Here's one to the east-ish with St Michael's church at Brentor, with Dartmoor beyond.

Finger post signs are, of course, not uncommon but, as a relatively rare feature, it was interesting to come across this one that had the points of the compass marked. At some point in the past, before decent road maps and sat navs, it was obviously important for travellers to know the direction in which they were going, as well as the names of towns en route.



The snowdrops are getting into their stride now. Although there has been lots of rain, the temperatures have been relatively mild, resulting in a burst of activity in the plant world.



Almost missed this trig point lurking in the hedge by the side of the road. Quite a big chip off the top but otherwise in good condition.

The flush plate gives the number S5681. A quick Google reveals that it's located at Ramsdown Plantation and dates from 1950. It's a third order point, that filled in the gaps between the second order stations, that filled in the gaps between the primary pillars. So, now you know. There's more to these concrete blocks than meets the eye.

On the scale of trigophilia, I reckon I'm pretty low down, although my writings might suggest otherwise. Take a look at Trigpointing.uk to see how obsessive some people are. As an example, I give you the young lady above who, when she saw S5681, "just had to give it a hug". And upload a photograph of this romantic moment onto the Trgpointing website, just one of many such episodes in her life. Although I will appreciate a trigpoint if I come across one, I wouldn't go too far out of my way to find it. Unlike some people who seem to spend all of their spare time 'bagging' them. Having said that, bagging them is a great incentive to get out into the countryside and take some exercise.

Mud, mud, glorious mud. A pretty typical paddling-in-the-mire part of the walk. Hooray for good boots. Lots of sloshing but completely dry feet.

Looking west-ish towards Kit Hill, just above where we live. Looks like the weather there was not good when this photograph was taken. Not a surprise as the weather was not good everywhere.

With superb timing, the final shower came on just in time to get us wet before we got in to our cars to go home.