I’ve returned from England, where I walked the 90 or so miles of the Dartmoor Way, with a few short and long cuts in between, and so many ups and downs, my calves are now like iron and my heart is ten years younger. By the way, the butts of bumblebees there are a rainbow of colors. 
There were rich old oak, beech, hazel, and holly woods, in which I connected with my Inner Hobbit.
Wind-swept tors.
Rushing rivers flowing out of the moor: Bovey, Teign, Dart, Okement, Tavy, Walkham. This is the Taw, one of Tarka the Otter’s two rivers.
Hedges, fields, and the high moor. Spikes of foxglove graced the many miles.
The thickly wooded valley of the River Dart, southeast of Sharp Tor, soon after its east and west streams gather at Dartmeet.
King’s Tor, the bed of an old quarry railroad; nearby is dressed granite never transported to London.
The view from Buckfast Abbey.
Standing “long stone” at Merrivale.
The end of the walk, which was also the beginning, at Dart Bridge in Buckfastleigh. Like the great Ouroborus, I made a circle. That’s my trusty blackthorn stick propped up there, from the old school James Smith & Sons, a life-saver on slippery granite, muddy slopes, and fields full of sheep, cow, horse, pony, deer, and rabbit dung. I will have more posts about this incredible trip in coming days.
A grand trip
6 responses to “A grand trip”
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Great post. As an Englishman in New Jersey it’s really nice to see these photos. Despite having never been to these parts of England it’s very familiar – I can smell the air and hear the birds, and that’s cool. Looking forward to more of the same.
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Thanks, Tom. I was particularly struck by the hedges, and the deep roads between some of them. A few were even caved over by the arching trees on either side. Holloways. Sometimes a rocky wall was held together by old trees, their roots like fingers. I understand many of the English hedges have been destroyed over time, to make room for the greedy sway of mechanized farm vehicles, but Devon seems to be a hold out. It was fascinating walking these hedged paths, some ancient drove roads, cooler than the surrounding heat (when there was heat), darker than the surrounding light, usually without seeing another soul, hearing the birds and the bleats of sheep in the fields beyond, unseen.
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Yes you’re right, the UK’s roadside hedgerows are pretty unique and such a valuable habitat for all manner of wildlife so their decline is not good. Devon, Dorset and many of the counties nearby do have especially narrow roads and high hedges though which are exaggerated by the hilly terrain and very winding lanes. I visited family friends there a lot when I was young and I always looked forward to drives and walks through what was really different countryside to where I’m from. Probably because as you alluded to, they’re almost like tunnels – and going through tunnels is an exciting thing for most young lads.
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Verdant scenery, and love the terminology of the land – the tors, the ancient pathways; just so far removed from the urban scene. Shall look forward to further posts.
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Looks like a grand trip. I’m really looking forward to the upcoming posts.
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Welcome home – looking forward to the future posts.
Backyard and Beyond 
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