A Dartmoor Walk: Ditsworthy Warren, Eylesbarrow Mine and Upper Plym Valley

Undaunted by a rather unusual weather forecast, we decided to go ahead with our weekly walk. Predicted winds of 11656 mph?  Bring it on. Hurricane, smurricane.

This was, of course, all down to a technical glitch on the BBC Weather site. We were not fooled.

A figure-of-eight walk starting and ending at the 'car park' at Gutter Tor. Off to Ditsworthy Warren House along Edward's Path, then up through Drizzle Combe to Eylesbarrow Tin Mine. From there, we followed the track to Plym Ford and there we started our return roughly following the Plym around the Hartor Tors, to join the main track back to the start. Not a difficult walk but I'll give it a 'low moderate' score. It came out at 6.4 miles and it had enough 'up' to make it a good exercise. And the weather was a lot better than expected. (PS: I have not been able to find out who Edward was).

We come across Dartmoor ponies so often, that I tend to ignore them. But, as these two were doing a good job of ignoring me in return, I thought they deserved recognition. Gutter Tor is in the background.

"How long can a scorpion survive under water?" A fascinating question to find stuck to a post in the middle of Dartmoor. It was probably put there as part of an activity for the nearby Scout Hut? Mr Google tells me that the answer is 48 hours. Do I win a prize?

Ditsworthy Warren House dates from around 1830 and has become a magnet for tourists since it featured in the Spielburg film, War Horse. Ditsworthy was first recorded as a warren in 1676 and rabbit keeping continued up until 1947, when the last warrener left. The house is owned by the Maristow Estate and is used occasionally by the military and for Outward Bound activities. We've been visiting for decades and it still retains its mystery.

And across the Plym, on the slopes of Hen Tor, are two rectangular warrens associated with Ditsworthy. The rabbits keep to the softer soil of the mounds as the rocky nature of the surrounding land is not amenable to burrow-digging.

Just one of the many short leats we came across. They were all part of a patchwork of water-power activities used to drive machinery for the various tin mines in the area.

Looking across to Sharpitor, Leather Tor and Peek Hill, where we were last week. This gives a good feel for the landscape we were walking in. Dog Dora in the foreground.

This row of granite blocks could be mistaken for a stone row of antiquity but they date from the early 1800s. They are guides which held iron flat rods in place as they transferred power from a water wheel/engine house to wherever it was needed. These rods covered a distance of about 200 meters up the side of the hill.

The track of the flat rods ended just before this cluster of buildings of the Eylesbarrow Tin Mine. I could not make out what their function might have been.

Possibly the flat rods were used to service this mine shaft? The tin mine was operational from 1814 to 1852. What a place to work! Just imagine trudging to the mine in typical Dartmoor weather and then having to put in a full shift for a pittance of a wage?

All along our route, we came across artifacts associated with mining activities. There were quite a few old wheel pits of various sizes, sometimes it was easier to guess at what they powered than others. It’s always interesting to try and locate the route of water to these wheels. In this case, the track of the leat can just be made out and, probably, there would have been a few feet of a wooden launder to drop the water directly onto the slats of the wheel.

We parted company with our track at Plym Ford and took a less defined, more cross-country route which roughly followed the line of the River Plym. At this point, the track to the left was part of the Abbots' Way, an old byway used by monks travelling between the abbeys at Tavistock and Buckfastleigh. Dog Dora photobombing again.

Evil Combe is probably not the most inviting place to visit as its name suggests. Its boggy, tussocky and rather dreary to say the least. The upper section of the combe is steep and scarred by the remains of the tin mining industry. The lower section levels off and is covered with mires and quake belly (unstable 'floating' bog) moorland  where the combe meets the River Plym. But the ground in the upper section is not too bad so we stuck to a track that followed the contour of the moor. It cuts across huge gerts and ruined buildings but the walking is straightforward and relatively dry.
Local author, Melanie J. Kirk describes Evil Combe in a much more romantic way: Steep valley edges drop to boggy ground that the sun doesn’t touch, and where nothing but heather dares to grow. The wind, exhausted from its long journey across the moors, howls like the great wild dogs that are rumoured to roam these parts. Some believe the devil himself dwells there. They say he lures unsuspecting hikers from the safe paths above by taking the form of a lame sheep or a lost child. Then he drags them down into the bog below, their calls for help drowned by the wind and the devil’s laughter. They disappear from view, never to be seen again. Sometimes on a rare, calm day, you can still hear the screams. But these are all just rumours. The only ones who know the real reason for the name Evil Combe are the dead.”
It's a good thing I read this description after we'd been there. And the origin of the term? Lost in the mists of antiquity but let's go with Melanie on this one.

Heading across to Lower Hartor Tor, a little bit of Dartmoor tautology. Or, perhaps, the cartographer had a stutter?

Looking back from whence we came. The Plym is not visible but the Langcombe Brook is. This part of the moor is full of points of interest with evocative names. There's Grim's Grave, Deadman's Bottom, Giant's Hill, Great and Little Gnats' Head and, not forgetting, Evil Combe. An etymologist's paradise. And just think what ecstasies a walking etymologist is thrown into.

A rather pregnant mare. Seems to be rather late in the season for this one to be at this stage.

This might look like a fairly nondescript landscape but it's anything but as it encompasses human presence and activity for some 4000 years. Sitting from my vantage point on the edge of an Iron Age hut circle, I can see a Bronze Age barrow (the Giant's Basin) to the left, an Iron Age monolith/ cursis stone at the top of a double stone row in the middle, evidence of medieval tin streaming all along the bottom of the Plym Valley, the rabbit warrens I mentioned earlier, the granite workings around the peaks of the Trowlesworthy Tors on the horizon and, just discernible beyond that, the artificial mounds from the china clay excavations at Lee Moor. Now that's what I call a view.

The last half mile or so dropping back down to the Gutter Tor 'car park'. Another nice panoramic view: Sheepstor to the right, the conifers sheltering the Scout Hut to the left and long views into Cornwall in the distance. This part of the track has been upgraded quite recently to make it more 'wheelchair accessible' but it would still be a very bumpy ride.