Dartmoor Walk: Bellever from Dunnabridge Pound

The day was dry, cold and clear and a great opportunity to tackle a stretch of open moor in an area unlikely to be too waterlogged. A circular from Dunnabridge Pound fitted the bill. A good stretch of the legs, followed by tea and coffee at the Plume of Feathers in Princetown. And it was cold, just above freezing with a very keen wind. Definitely a case of keeping moving to keep warm.

We started at the Dunnabridge Pound car park and headed towards Bellever, skirting Bellever Tor. From Bellever, it was a pretty straightforward route back, via Laughter Hole Farm and Dunnabridge Down. My GPS clocked 6.3 miles, a little longer than planned but we had to make a view adjustments as we went along. And the sky was blue all the way around.

The view from the car park, blue sky and an open vista.

Dunnabridge: postbox № PL20 453. A Victorian postbox set into the wall of a farm building and emptied each morning, except Sunday, at 10:30.  This one, which is listed, dates from around 1880, and has been serving the local community since then. Long may it continue but, given all of the changes going on with Royal Mail, I do wonder how long they will be a feature of the countryside, particularly these more isolated areas. They are worth fighting for so let's keep an eye out for actions that we can take.

Looking across the open moorland towards Bellever Tor which, at this point, I had intended to climb. But it didn't quite work out.

A less than helpful signpost, indicating 'Path' in both directions. I suppose it's useful to know that you are on a path but it would be even more useful to know where you are heading for, or coming from.

Getting closer to Bellever Tor. At this stage, the plan was to skirt the trees to the right and then head up to the tor with those who were feeling energetic.

Bellever Forest - very popular in the warmer months but we, more or less, had it to ourselves today. We only saw two other walkers as we went around. Well, we actually saw them twice, presumably on their out and back routes.

Light brown cones decorating this Sitka spruce.

So near, yet so far. The theory was correct but, in the event, the way up was so rocky and pitted that I decided that it would be better to give it a miss. Is that a sign of advanced year? Showing a little common sense.

The rather clapped-out clapper bridge at Bellever. Not surprising really, as it dates from the mediaeval period. It originally had four spans but only two preserve their lintels today. English Heritage state that this bridge is likely to have been on the medieval track known as the Lich (or Lych) Way which led from the Ancient Tenements on the Forest to Lydford.

I wonder how many of my fellow walkers noticed this at the side of the path as we headed for Laughter Hole Farm? The farm is sadly no longer in use and is now fenced off to prevent trespassing by curious walkers.
The farm has a sad tale attached to it, dating from the Victorian age, concerning a young girl,and her over-protective father, who tragically lost his wife in a horse riding accident and as a result forbade his daughter to ever leave the protection of the farm. Obeying her father, the girl spent her days helping out where she could, the only time she allowed herself any sign of rebellion was when her father went to market to sell their produce. Once a week he set off early, not wanting to leave the girl on her own any longer than necessary, whilst she in turn made the most of his absence by climbing to the top of the highest tree in the forest to sit and daydream about what life must be like in those far off lands beyond the confines of her home. One day her father returned early, eager to show her the new doll he had bought for her. Being roused from her fantasies with a start and not wanting to be caught breaking the rules, she scrambled back down the tree. In her haste, she lost her footing and fell...her fall being broken when the strap of her apron dress snagged on a branch, snapping her neck in the process. Her father arrived back to find her lifeless body hanging from the tree. Distraught, he cut her down and immediately buried her in the grounds of the only home she had ever known. As he placed a handmade wooden cross, to mark her final resting place, a white dove flew up from the trees above and the father took this as a sign that his daughter was finally getting the freedom she craved.

A tree festooned with the epiphytic lichen, Usnea (Epiphyte = lives on but does not damage, unlike a parasite). One measure of air purity is based on the presence/abundance of such lichens, where different lichens can tolerate different levels of pollution. The method uses the Hawksworth & Rose Zone scale for the mean estimation of mean winter sulphur dioxide levels in England & Wales. With a scale of ten levels of pollution/purity, the presence of Usnea species indicates the purest air. Walkers in this part of the world breathe only the best air!

Ah well, better luck next time for Bellever Tor. And there will be another time as I've sorted out the best route to the top.

Dunnabridge Pound is another of the many Bronze age structures on Dartmoor. It has certainly been used in more recent times as a cattle/sheep enclosure. Although back in the Bronze Age up to 17 people lived here in a number of huts, one of which can just be made out in the centre of the walled ring. Just inside the entrance on the left is the Judge's Chair, believed to have been brought here by the local Dunnabridge farmer. He maintained that a bench from Crockern Tor formed the seat and that the Crockern judges table formed the roof of the Judge’s Chair. What is for certain is that it was used as a shelter by those tending their animals within the Pound.