Camp

From Princetown I joined the high moor link, heading east. My long evening shadow pointed the direction as I crossed miles of open moorland, with only a few disconcerting ‘warning: bull in field’ signs. Eventually I dropped back down to river level, passing a herd of ponies grazing among the ruins of some stone buildings.

Although I was losing the light, and there were promising flat spots near the river, I needed to press; camping isn’t permitted across large parts of the middle of Dartmoor, and only a small section of my route passed through the permitted area.

When I found a decent spot back up on the moor, beyond the river l, I found the streams marked on the map to be dry. I dropped my pack and headed back back down to the river to collect water.

As I cooked and pitched my tent under the setting sun, I saw a sheepdog herding a whole flock of sheep from one enclosure to another. I looked around for the shepherd for about a minute, before it dawned on me - the ‘sheep dog’ was in fact a calf. I like to think he is going to go on to have a ‘wrong sort of animal wins the sheep dog competition’ adventure in the style of babe.

Dinner was broccoli, rice noodles and mixed vegetables in a curry-spiced mushroom broth.Read more