It turns out Red lake China Clay works is my destination for this bit of the walk.
As we rejoin my dartmoor break, I have yet to realise this.
Having found my campsite, actual setting up was a breeze. Rolling out the bivvy bag I was looking forward to a good nights rest.
It soon became clear “howling” was just the right word for what had initially been considered a mild wind. My camp area had seemed large enough when viewed from a standing position, but lying down it shrank.
Once inside the bivvy bag and wriggling about to find the sweet spot which was going to allow sleep I was very aware I had camped on a needle of rock with sheer sides.
As an aside, when I woke up in the morning and regained my feet the campsite became benign once more.
Finding the sweet spot for sleep is important. Once my eyes close there is a remote chance I could be mistaken as a corpse. As a small child the chimney next door burst into flame, the fire brigade came screaming around bells blazing and then flooded the area, I slept blissfully. I’ve since much improved my ability to sleep through events. The downside of this being if I happen to nod off with a damn great lump of sharp granite stuck in my back I know all about its presence in the morning.
Dog Two disappeared into the bag and settled down. This was a weight off my mind, the wind was significant but Dog Two cared not a jot for all the noise it created within the bag.
It arrived not a moment too soon, 6am, up and out.
Packing was fiendishly complex. In a few days time I will be wondering what all the fuss was about.
I need not have worried about the great houndini bursting free of the sleeping arrangements. As far as could be told (and he was not saying anything) there had been no movement at all let alone energetic bursts for freedom.
There was a need for a walking Plan B as it was obvious Plan A was not going to be feasible.
Plan A involved a good deal of visiting prehistory in this area of Dartmoor. Having not visited it before, there was a lot of things to go and see.
The Butler series of books had fired my imagination. However I was all too aware one hut circle had a tendency to look like just about any other.
The remains themselves are not actually important, but they make “sense” of a landscape in which you can simply roam. They represent destinations, points on the map to aim for, achieve and understand the sense of “I am here”.
So the wonderful efforts of Jeremy Butler were put to one side. At times it seems as if he has described every stone prehistoric man moved.
Prior to leaving I had read The Industrial Archaeology of Dartmoor by Helen Harris and it had fired my imaginings for this aspect of the moor.
Seeing the disused Red Lake Railway line sealed Plan B for me.
This would be about the discovery of Dartmoor as an industrial landscape.
A near perfect compromise, I get to walk on old railway tracks and a lot of what my quest was about would be close to hand and usually within eyesight.
It did not reduce the weight on my back, but it reduced its impact.
The day promised to be a good ‘un. Actually the weather forecast for the next 7 days was promising, with but the merest hint of mischief in the form of possible rain at the end of it.
Take nothing for granted on Dartmoor though. (BBC report of rescue needed March 2008 near Red Lake)
Before leaving I had discovered a bit of software which combined my gps data with my camera to accurately geotag my photo’s. This was an exciting development for me.
Walking the Red Lake Railway had the additional advantage of the navigation done for me.
The disadvantage, underfoot it was consistently flinty, but this is of marginal consideration given anywhere on Dartmoor has a certain element of surprise when it comes to footing.
This area of Dartmoor is not the “tor fest” I have grown used to around Moortown, it has more of a rolling aspect.
Piles Wood came into view and it was a pleasure to see it. Broad leaf woods are always a welcome sight. Coming from a part of the country nearly devoid of gradient the novelty of looking down on treetops is a pleasure.
The main thrill though was it connected me to R.H Worth, one of my Dartmoor heroes.
Perhaps an odd thing to say as I was literally connected to R.H Worth with every step I took as he was the chap that surveyed the rail route I trod.
The difference was, that was essentially dead and gone, I was walking on its’ decaying remains. The wood though, those trees were the very ones Worth had seen and more importantly they had seen him. It’s an important distinction in my mind.
I would have liked to have visited the wood more closely but contented myself with putting it on a list of things to do, which meant another trip to Dartmoor at a future date.
My goals for this day was Red Lake China Clay works, the whole purpose of the railroad.
I gazed about me in happy wonder, the sun beat down, the skylarks made light of gravity and to prove the mastery sang happily of their achievement.
Sheep appeared at regular enough intervals to keep Dog Two on his toes. He was curious enough about sheep to actually detach himself from my heel and take a few strides forward to investigate. A handy test of his mood, if he lost this interest in sheep it would most certainly be time to give him a rest.
That was his entertainment taken care of and there were enough industrial remains dotted about the track to keep me happy that the “purpose” of the Dartmoor visit was moving forward. The pipeline associated with the China Clay works could be seen from time to time as it made its way back towards Ivybridge.
GORP and dog biscuits kept our energy levels up and the camelbak supplied the liquid to wash it down.
We met a number of others enjoying the day, all with lighter loads and bigger dogs but it was no hindrance to happy greetings and a quick chat before moving along.
Where the two moors way meets the railroad we saw two healthy people joining the track. Dog Two looked out on the moor from whence they came and for a mad moment I envisaged us striding along the Two Moors Way, ticking off a long distance walk.
It was madness, it got put on the list of “one day”.
I am not sure when it had last rained on the moor, but there was not a lot of water running in the smaller spontaneous streams but the next bit to Red Lake made up for it. It was muddy and there was standing water in deep ruts.
The Red Lake hill is conspicuous for considerable distance and with its squat volcano erupting appearance, distinctive.
There is a good deal of industrial remains here, at least at ground level. I wondered how deep that cool, blue water was. Deep enough for trouble.
A trangia moment. Curry Pot Noodle, with noodles on the side washed down with a mug of tea sweetened with honey (my much more versatile sugar substitute for hiking).
I contemplated the wooden post in the distance, marked on the OS map, too bleak and lonely for my liking, even dead tree fragments should not be that desolate.
Time to turn around and find a less windy, and hopefully flatter bit of terrain to spend the night in repose.
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