Tors, tussocks and togs ratings — DiY Ten Tours on Dartmoor
We were sat on a train, masked-up, coming back from having walked the Tonbridge Circular looking over a guide book Nicky had got hold of a few months previously. We were chatting about ideas for the adventures that could be had once we could break out of the lockdown and hurl ourselves at the great outdoors once again. Skimming through the pages a chapter took my eye. I grew up in Devon, went to school in Okehampton and had undertaken Ten Tors as a teenager. Initially under duress and un-prepared but eventually with unashamed enjoyment.
Due to Covid there was no ‘official’ event this year…but now in our mid-40’s we were never going to be allowed to enter anyway. But we could do our own one couldn’t we? We wouldn’t need a prescribed route would we? Could we just choose our own 10 tors …what is a ‘tor’?
Dartmoor
Nicky had mixed feeling about Dartmoor. I had grown up around there, for me Dartmoor was just an undeniable fact, I had never given a thought to why it was like it was but for Nicky it was a man-made, barren place void of life and just begging to be re-wilded. I now really felt like the gauntlet had been thrown down.
Dartmoor is an area of high land with Okehampton and then Exeter to its North, Tavistock to its west, Chagford to the east and ultimately Plymouth to the south. Within this area the land rises up and its geography and location make it the focus of weather patterns. The wind sculpts the forests, the peat is too acidic to yield crops and in the centre it might appear quiet lifeless. However, growing up with a constant view of the ‘high moor’ beyond Okehampton it’s always been a place of mystery and a gothic, almost supernatural, power. My early memories of watching Basil Rathbone or Peter Cushing in the Hound of the Baskervilles, compounded with Edwardian Ghost stories and the shabby fading civil and private buildings of Okehampton spoke of another era. The decaying echos of our industrial past poke their way through the moorland and the rusty observation posts used by the army are scattered across its high, windswept, places.
Preparation
So full disclosure here: Nicky and I are not total novices, but neither are we expedition hardened, Bear Grylls / Ray Mears types either. It had been a few years since I had tried anything like this and speaking for myself I’m not in the same shape that I was when I last went on a multi-day wild camp / hike. But I’ve done enough of these walks to remember that ‘failing to prepare is preparing to fail’ etc. so I knew it would be worth spending a bit of time working on the route and kit.
The route
The ‘Ten Tors’ is a two day event run by the army solely for 14–19 year teenagers and it involves teams of up to 6 following predefined routes of 35, 45 or 55 MILES between a set of eligible tors. For obvious reasons the event itself was not our focus, instead we decided to draw up our own route between eligible tors. The list of eligible tors we found online (it changes every year but always includes a subset of big hitters marked on bold) include: Steeperton Tor, Rough Tor, Little Mis Tor, Longaford Tor, Hare Tor, Kitty Tor, Middle Staple Tor, White Barrow, Great Kneeset, East Mill Tor, Sittaford Tor, Water Hill, High Willhays, Watern Tor, Buttern Tor, Dinger Tor, Kes Tor, Peat Cot, Little Mis Tor and Holming Beam.
Forgetting for a minute that I wasn't a 19 year old army cadet my first foolhardy / hubristic notion was to draw up a 55 mile route that took in ten of these tors. I set out to do this on the OS amazing website https://osmaps.ordnancesurvey.co.uk/. (Sign up its great, no I’m not getting a kick back :-). Here I could see all the tors and could plot routes between them but doing a small conversion the internet reminded me that 55 miles was 88 km. I don’t know when the last time you walked on open moorland but the going is often pretty uneven and I consider a 25k walk on tracks and bridlepaths to be a pretty epic day. Back to the drawing board. We decided that 15km was as much as we were prepared to do on the first day as we would have already driven down from London that morning. That doesn't seen like far but it was straightforward to include 6 tors in that distance and take us from a car park at Meldon Quarry on the north west corner to our camp in the ruins of a farm house at Teign Head on the western edge by Fernworthy reservoir. The second day would be longer, closer to 18km. We could have aimed for fewer k but opted to travel by track and bridlepath rather than cut a direct route through the centre, it offered greater variety and some guarantee of route finding and going under foot. The third day would be less prescribed. In general we wanted the option to shorten the route so had three versions in reserve; direct, indirect and bail(!) All these were mapped out on OS and saved as .gpx to my cycling computer (might as well put it to good use…although should have turned the beeping off which sounded like I was disturbing the home of a some ground nesting bird every time my walking speed slowed and it paused). The route we took can be downloaded here: day 1, day 2 and day 3.
The kit
A bit of back story here. 10 years ago a medical investigation found that a pain in my foot was caused by a malformed bone (talus?). As a consequence I have become a bit of a weight fanatic. The following paragraphs should be looked at in this context, I am not suggesting that this approach is for everyone but it works for me. Every item worn or carried in my pack is as light and hopefully multi-purpose as possible.
Looking at the forecast and that of the previous weeks I opted for waterproof trail shoes over walking boots with optional gaiters to keep the weight down as it was going to be dry…in the end the gaiters never made it out of the bag. Pretty standard get up; base layer, fleece, optional down jacket or light weight mac. Trousers made of synthetic fabric, two pairs of socks; a thin and think pair and m&s pants!
An ultralight 32 lt, fell running-style rucksack was large enough to fit the following: one man tent, four season sleeping bag and liner, insulated ground mat, food for two (more on this in a bit), stove, a few bars and a 3 lt water bladder.
Anticipation
This was going to be a bit of a test for both of us. We hadn’t been together as a couple long and were both interested to place ourselves in an intense situation to see how we would hold up. How would we deal with the inevitable disagreements, lost and hungry on the open moor land in the dark who would start swearing first? Would it be like the Donner Party of 1846 or Lord of the Flies? (spoiler: it wasn’t, it was lots fo fun). Still there was a lot of anticipation. The weather looked like it was going to be on our side but definitely cold overnight, 1–2 degrees centigrade. Hence the choice of a 4 season bag and a silk liner. Nicky invested in a new down bag, it purported to have a comfort rating of -30…this was an obvious non-sense and a total unnecessary and potentially dangerous boast on the part of the manufacturer. Food-wise we were going to make our own dehydrated meals.
Food
So food on camping trips can be a drag. Its okay if you have a basecamp or are car camping, but when you are making your way on the hill or trail and are obsessing about pack weight for good reason you don’t have the space for chopping boards, cheese graters and sieves or the time and weather conditions to put them to good use. I gave up trying to prepare anything more elaborate than cheese/chorizo and oat cakes (Nicky’s favourite) a while ago and have pieced together a ‘system’ that works for me. I see myself as a bit of a foodie so not so keen on the generic-off-the-shelf meal-in-a-bag-space-food-type options that taste a bit like retardant sofa stuffing. The ‘system’ involves, firstly, putting an amount (150g usually) of de-hydrated food in a silicone pouch, secondly, using a tiny collapsable stove (MSR pocket rocket — other suitable stoves are available) and titanium kettle to heat the water needed (300ml of 150g food) to re-hydrate food and thirdly, pouring the boiling into the pouch and finally, wrapping the pouch up in my down jacket or inside my sleeping bag. Its a 30min wait until its ready so I usually do this soon after making camp and then spend the interim time whittling, practicing my bird calls or taking photos of the sunset (if there is one). It always tastes great and no messing around or prep…the leg work (including chopping boards, sieves and cheese graters is done up front…in the kitchen at home. The food (risoto, chilli, curry etc.) is spread on the drying racks in my dehydrator and left for up to 12 hours to dry out. When its done its very crunchy and can then be stored for an almost indefinite amount of time (please do your own research here but I have eaten two year old veggie curry re-hydrated with water filtered from a muddy puddle with no ill effect :-)
Day one
Began with a long drive from London. We left Nicky’s at 6am, up to the north west via Oval and Putney bridge and then drawn towards the A303 by the sat nav owing to works of the M4. We made good time and, after a couple of masked-up toilet stops and the obligatory tail back around stone henge, hit Exeter around 11am . The next part of the drive from Exeter to Okehampton is a favourite of mine. The dual carriageway is quiet if you are coming off the M4 and as you progress the wale back of Chagford Common and Eastern Dartmoor rises up on your left offering a glimpse of whats to come.
As it was Easter weekend we wanted to avoid the main approach and decided to make our entrance on the west side via Meldon reservoir. It was bright with a gentle breeze, the car park busy but not full. The people all friendly and chatty and helpful when we were getting some coins together for the parking meter. The maximum you could buy was a day of parking for £3 and as we were going to be there for three days we brought three of these and left a note. A volunteer park warden off for a day with his dog (in a little Dartmoor doggy jacket) seemed to think that was the best idea. We swapped our civilian clothes for outdoor gear, put on our rucksacks and set off across the dam at the south of the reservoir. There was hardly a cloud in the sky and short grass was emerald green as we slowly made our way passed the copper coloured Dartmoor ponies onto the Longstone Hill and the high moor.
The first tor on our tour was going to be Yes tor, at 619 meters the second highest and offering stunning views on a clear warm day both back into the rural landscape of north Devon and across the rolling sea of brown moorland to the east. From there it was an easy walk along a well trodden path to the highest tor on Dartmoor: High Willhays at 621 meters. I had originally had a plan to stash the following evening and subsequent morning’s food in a rocky area close to where we planed to be camping the next night. This could have saved me carrying 1.5kg of food and snacks around for the two days, but Nicky was not so sure and she turned out to be spot on. The idea was for us both to walk to Dinger Tor and then for me to walk 1k south west and leave the food bag stashed between two rocks in this quiet corner. At the end fo the following evening I would walk north east from our camp for 1k and retrieve it. A great plan…if you make the planned camp site and we ended up a good 6k off with a gully potentially adding to the ‘fun’ of heading to the drop. Nicky always adds a note of realism to my more optimistic plans and 9/10 she’s right to :-).
We were trying not to use GPS and instead practice our map reading skills and we navigated from Dinger Tor through the Okement range towards Steeperton Tor, 3k, not difficult on a sunny afternoon. Nicky put her Sawer water filter to good use by the stream at the foot of Steeperton and we climbed up its shoulder. Then we headed south east to Wild Tor, then on to Watern Tor, an impressive bulk head of granite resembling the stern of a submarine. The evening was approaching and the last section of the walk would take us to our proposed campsite; Teignhead Farm. I had camped here a few times before. It’s a ruin now but it’s remaining footprint hints at its former stature. Crucially it’s one of the few bits of flat land for miles around, everything else being uneven brown tussocks or marsh. We took a bearing and set off in the direction of the farm from Watern Tor. The land was pretty featureless, our paths diverged and we end ed up 100 meters apart walking in parallel…I was willing us to arrive at the place soon and without too much faff, it had been a long day and I was hoping we were where I thought we were. A few more stone styles and rises and finally I saw the ruined farm up ahead. It was dusk now and the temperature was dropping as the sun dipped lower in the sky.
The approach to the farm was marked by the grassy outline of a track, it was comforting to be heading down this path towards the tall granite pillars that were all that were left of the farms ‘driveway’ entrance. We said hello to two lads sat by the stream that ran outside the farm’s bounds. They looked as equally tired as us. We walked up the defunct drive and into the remnants of the farmyard. There are no remains of a roof so the three rooms are open to the sky. Two of these were flat with short grass, ideal for camping. The other room contained the detritus from the farm; corrugated iron, huge granite blocks and rusted, distorted iron work. We pitched our one-man tents, boiled water to re-hydrated our risotto and ate. It was cold, 3–4 degrees and I lit a fire in a separate area away from the tent. We watched the stars in the cloudless blue-black sky, sparks rising up through the Spartan trees. After I had shut the fire down we then took to our beds.
Day two
The night had been cold, but bearable in my three season down bag. Nicky had been colder and not slept that well. I made some coffee, we had granola and with dried fruit and nuts for breakfast. I had mixed some powdered milk into the granola so with a bit of water and this was pretty close to a ‘normal’ breakfast. We began to warm up, we struck camp.
There were two approaches to reaching the western camp later that day; either we headed directly west over open, almost featureless moorland for 8k or we took a less direct 15k route that would supply better going and much more variety. We chose the longer option. Close to the ruined farm a bridleway followed a succession of leats before joining the newly formed East Dart river. Close to our camp at the highest section, before the path dropped down into the valley we were greeted by the Grey Wethers Stone circles (restored) a dramatic reminder of Dartmoor’s prehistoric past. It was easy to imagine this place as an eastern gateway to the moor. We continued down the shallow valley over Hartland tor and on to Postbridge.
Here we took photos of the ancient Clapper bridge and made good use of the modern, well maintained facilities at the car park. We walked through a forest parallel to the B312 road for 1k then took the bridlepath on the right that headed out onto the moor again. The good path rose slowly flowing a stream. The next landmark was the ruin of a gunpowder factory, Power Mills. Three very solid two storey buildings and associated chimneys. The Dartmoor warden we met here told us these factories had been relocated from Plymouth in 1840 and were in use until their product was superseded by dynamite around 1900. We continued over the rise pausing to bag Longaford tour and then on to Wistman’s wood, one of the three remaining original ancient oak woods on Dartmoor. Tiny slivers of twisted, miniature oak trees nestled amongst moss covered boulders on the lea side of a valley formed by the newly risen West Dart river.
The next section was tiring. The bridleway marked on the OS map was practically undefined on the ground, it was a slow tramp over Connies Down, past Cocks Hill and ignoring the less than appealing Black Dunghill to the south. We were both tired. There was no chance we would make it to the ruins of Bleak House where I had hoped to camp. We were 6k south of there as the crow fly’s. We were nearing the eastern limits of the moor, slowly heading towards MOD territory. All was very still, certainly no manoeuvres in progress. The bridlepath headed over Wapsworthy Common and would have funnelled us past Bagga Tor, Brousentor Farm and then off of the moor. But we wanted to avoid that outcome. We had noticed a strangely circular plantation of mixed woodland on the OS map occupying the head of some pasture outside of the bonds of the moor; South Common Planation. These well established circle of trees were ringed by a dilapidated stone wall. We walked through a gap and made our way across the top of the wood looking for a spot to camp. With flat ground all around there were many options. We ate and went to bed as the temperature dipped again. Later the wind picked up and could be heard roaring through the trees above us.
Day three
We woke, made coffee, ate our granola and packed up the tents. There had been something a bit unsettling about the plantation; it’s deliberate perfectly circular form, the decrepit stone walls and the leafless trees. Later investigations revealed it had been the sight of a stand off between an escaped prisoner from the nearby Dartmoor prison at Princetown and the police after a local farmer had spotted him hiding there. He had been shot and killed. I’m not sure if I would have camped there if I had known this in advance.
It was a bright morning and we headed directly north. Our path afforded great views of the lower agricultural land to our left and the open moor to the right and ahead. The going was good, the ground thankfully dry. We both agreed that any rain in the days leading up to our walk would have made for a much harder traverse. We walked out over the flat expanse of Standon Down for 2k. At the intersection of Deadlake Foot, Watern Oke and Sandy Ford we washed ourselves and briefly swam in the pool. The water was icy cold but the sun was high in the sky and blazing hot now. This place marks the head of the Tavy river that characterises the western edge of the moor and leads to Tavistock before running into the Tamar and finally out into the sea at Plymouth.
After a snack of chorizo and oat cakes we maintained or northern passage. At the aptly named Chat Tor we met Judy and Chris from Calstock. We shared a few stories about our walk and previous adventures and even swapped email addresses. We had similar outlooks and the same thirst for adventure. They were seasoned ramblers and cyclists. With their dynamic free-spirited approach canceling out their years I found them inspiring. I knew Nicky and I would be pleased if we could have matched them in twenty years time. They were completely alive and flat refusing to conform to any conventions of how people in their 60’s should behave.
Finally we passed my proposed camp spot, Bleak house. That wasn’t the first time I had thanked Nicky for the good sense not to leave last nights food close to here! Now we were on the home straight. The well maintained track that lead to bleak house was going to lead us off the moor. We passed para gliders, picnicking couples and fell runners as we slowly lost altitude and headed back along the path to Meldon Dam car park and our car.
