|Hound Tor from afar.|
Guide books outlined walks and sights, but I found, when the guides ended up being a tad confusing to me, my own explorations and walks suited just as well. I wandered about the rock forms, down to the remains of a medieval settlement and through the flora.
|Medieval settlement remains with Hound Tor in the distance.|
|Shelter from the wind and rain and a bit of reading.|
|Granite formations on Hound Tor.|
|"Large green rollers" on Dartmoor|
Hayne Downs and Bowerman's Nose
Still the winds blows on day three, as it seems to always blow on my visit to the moor, but this time it was much gentler like a low voice saying hello rather than screaming by ones ears. My rambles today took me through the tors and formations on Hayne Downs.
|Fading morning midst on the formations near Hayne Downs.|
I spot Bowerman's Nose, a well-known moor landmark/formation.
|Bowerman's Nose in the distance.|
see the lovely nose?
|Midst and sun battle for the day.|
|Church in Widecombe-in-the-Moor.|
Princetown and the attempt to reach Grimpen Mire (or FoxTor Mire):
|A view of Princetown from the pathway.|
|The hotel, now a tourist office and local museum, where |
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle is said to have stayed during
his time in Princetown.
I began my walk from this town and the goal of finding the inspiration for the infamous Grimpen Mire, an area called Fox Tor Mire. After walking for what seemed to be many, but likely was only a few, miles I sat down to take in the view, the expanse, the quiet. My solitude was only occasionally interrupted by groups of hikers embarking on the same trail I did, but getting quite further.
Quite in contrast to the previous days, when I searched through the formations for a bit of solitude among the the tour groups and visiting families, this area gives one a feeling of such solitude that the occasional school group or hiker on the path was a welcome sight and chance to say 'hello'. Not even the wind whistles past my head on this day, simply more of a gentle whisper. Once again some inspiration hits me:
From boulders, to hills and woodlands galore,
That is the beauty that fills Dartmoor.
Old granite quarries, tin-work and medieval stones,
That is the history that fills Dartmoor.
A Hound, a doctor and his friend Mr. Holmes,
Those and many more stories are full of Dartmoor.
Sheep, cows, and ponies roam free as before,
Free from confinement out on Dartmoor.
The trip back takes me past moorland ponies grazing in the grass. I notice a mare with its foal and a little further what seemed like an adolescent romping in the grass. A time for fun and games.
|A mare and its foal grazing on Dartmoor|
I will return to one of the greatest delights that England has to offer: Dartmoor. Though perhaps not on my own next time. Five days