MOOR OR LEES

While in Devon, we returned to the Dartmoor reservoirs I visited before (here). This time we walked right round the perimeters.  The start point we chose turned out to be not the best . . .

but the view of the Tottiford reservoir was unaffected.  This was the first of what are now 8 reservoirs in Dartmoor, built in 1861 (which is probably why refurbishment works are needed).

I've already posted a pic of the Kennick reservoir, so won't post it again; the Trenchford reservoir was frankly just a body of water, so I'll stick to the footpath pics.  The walk ran along the 'main road' for a while.  These are actually stone walls on either side (somewhat reclaimed by Nature).

Just before we left eventually and drove down this road, a gigantic earth-moving excavator came the other way to the dam reconstruction site.  We were relieved not to meet it in our car!  But we were equally disconcerted on the walk to encounter cattle in the forest.  Rather sinister appearance.

But mostly the views were buccolic.

We entered a fairly extensive forest.  I think this tree had been strangled by ivy before it was felled.

And this one looks as though its about to strangle anyone who passes.

It actually rained heavily for a while (can you see?), but the canopy was so thick, we stayed quite dry.

We eventually returned to Tottiford, crossing the head and following the right hand bank.

Close to the reservoirs we passed the village of Hennock.  This is the view from the pub garden.

Typical of the views we'd had of the surrounding Devon countryside.  The Palk Arms is famous for its home-made strawberry jam and clotted cream teas . . .

MOOR BEER

Some of you may remember that, when I am down this way on a Monday evening , I run with the Hash House Harriers.  As this was my first run since my convalescence ie more than a year, I was keen to see how I'd get on.  I've mentioned the Hash before.  Suffice it to say that they describe themselves as a drinking club with a running problem.  I suppose it's as much a social club as anything.  But the key objective is to work up a thirst.

Here we are preparing to set off from Bridford village on the edge of Dartmoor.

We were soon into glorious open countryside.

But you can't go very far in this part of the world without hitting hills going up which I found rather harder to negotiate than the hills going down (which were rather few and far between).  And I soon found that the glorious countryside was eerily peopleless.  This is the Kennick Reservoir which I seemed to be enjoying alone

 

But down by the nearby Tottiford Reservoir, I spotted another Hasher.  Aha!

 

Fortunately, for a man like me, much experienced in the ways of the countryside and the art of tracking, it is not too difficult to follow the spoor of a pack of hashers . . .

 

 though the track was not conducive to fast running.

 

Especially as the light was now fading.

 

 But wait, was that not another Hasher across the field . . .

 

 And, sure enough, although it had been a somewhat longer run than I expected, we were all soon back at the Bridford Inn, just before nightfall, and, as it was Dartmoor, with pints of Jail Ale in our hands.  On, on!