Walks

Walking 102 miles across the county of Devon seemed like a great idea as I sat supping a glass of wine one night. What better way to experience a cross section of Devon, the moors, the tors, the rivers, the valleys, farmland and the coastline? What better way to get fit and to explore hidden parts of the county?

However, as the day of the walk dawned I began to get cold feet. Was I fit enough? Would I be crippled with blisters? What if it rained non-stop for a week?

I had been plotting with my colleague Jo Bishop, a keen walker and great map-reader, to celebrate the 30th anniversary of the Two Moors Way by walking the route.

Jo was bringing her beautiful collie-cross dog Bella to accompany us. We were going to lay a trail of stamps en-route at various shops, pubs, churches and post offices so that future walkers could collect them using a special free passport from the Devon online website.

Liz, Jo and Bella begin the walk in Ivybridge

The day of the walk dawned bright and warm and we started outside the Ivybridge Leisure Centre beside the River Erme. 

As I looked up onto the moors I could see the Beacon stretching high above us and with a sinking heart I knew it was going to be a steep climb to get onto the moor itself.  A hazy mist had settled on the tops of the hills and my nerves continued to nag me about the challenge we'd set ourselves.

We stocked up with sandwiches, cakes and chocolate, then with heads down and with a resilient determination we plodded up,up,up Harford Hill and onto the moor.

We soon left civilisation behind, there were no houses or communities for miles and miles; all we had to follow was an old tramway that gently climbed higher and higher on to the moors.

By the end of the first day, after being alone with my thoughts, the views, the ewes and lambs, the skylarks and the steady companionship of Jo, Bella and a couple of friends I felt as though I was settling into a steady rhythm. 

Jo and Liz tackle another hill on Dartmoor!

It was a delicious feeling of gently aching limbs, a tiredness born of fresh air and the constant rhythm of walking; one foot in front of the other, one foot in front of the other, one foot in front of the other.

We left Dartmoor's panoramic open landscapes of yellow scrubland and bright blossoming gorse bushes to the contrasting rural landscape of mid-Devon.

Lush fields of grass, the smell of freshly ploughed red-earth and the new growth of crops delighted us over every stile and through every gate.

We passed livestock, cattle and numerous farms, hamlets and country lanes. It was a glorious rich, fertile landscape, bursting with life.

Exmoor, by comparison, stretched out with languorous ease.  Buzzards mewed and wheeled above our heads, ponies foraged amongst the golden bracken and the River Barle was our steady companion for a couple of days.

We crossed Danes Brook into Devon, we splashed in the puddle of water at Exe Head and we headed back into Devon past the historic Hoar Oak Tree.

There were so few people around, it was as though we had Exmoor entirely to ourselves.

It was both a sad and exciting sight to see the Bristol Channel. This signified the end of our walk, the end of a week of contrasting scenery and glorious views and the end of a journey.

I was delighted to get to Lynmouth, but reluctant to finish my walk. It was a great achievement but it was twinged with regret that our Two Moors Way walk was finally over.