Spring Meet 2015

The 72nd Meet took place this past weekend.  It has been 37 years since Letterboxing's first Meet at the Forest Inn near Hexworthy.  A Dartmoor pub which has since closed, but up for sale for just a £1!

The bi-annual gathering now calls Lee Moor Village Hall home.  I did attend.  It was great to catch up with some familiar faces, and purchase the new catalogue.

The introduction to the new book of clues offers an update on Godfrey Swinscow - the 'father' of modern Letterboxing.  In the 1980s as the burgeoning hobby threatened to incur the wrath of the National Park, it was 'God' who stepped in and created the 100 club and the concept of registering boxes.  Godfrey - who celebrated his 96th birthday on Sunday - now resides in a Devon residential home with his wife, Anne.  He still has an interest in Letterboxing, albeit by only enjoying looking at stamps brought in by his visitors.  It was fantastic to hear how Godfrey is doing, as it has been so long since the last update.

With charity walks bought, Letterboxing routes must now be planned for the Lyd Valley, Cox Tor and Mel Tor areas.

The Getaway - Part III

My final far-flung Letterboxing excursion was to the closest National Park neighbour - Exmoor. Think of Exmoor and you may think of Lorna Doone or the Valley of the Rocks, Lynton & Lynmouth or perhaps Johnny Kingdom and the red deer.  I'd always considered Exmoor, away from the coastline to be characterised by tight valleys and grassy upland, far less rugged than Dartmoor.  I was keen to discover if my preconceptions were true.

I'd found two clues for boxes around Wood Barrow via Gamblenet.  This grassy hill sits to the West of the park, and the summit cairn straddles the Devon - Somerset border. It also is located on the Tarka Trail, an undefined long distance path that links the North coast with Dartmoor.  My walk up to Wood Barrow followed this trail from the main road at the Edgerley Stone - one of several uncut, local rocks intended to mark the 13th century boundary of the Royal Forest of Exmoor, but now marks the county line.  It is inscribed with 'F Isaac', 'F Bray', and an OS benchmark.

Wood Barrow is 470 metres above sea level - the highest of my out-of-area summits.  This puts it about the same height as Longaford Tor, but Exmoor's highest point - Dunkery Beacon - off to the East is one of the Southern England's highest points.  

The letterboxes were sited in the nearby Woodbarrow Hangings - a deep twisting combe winding off to the North.  One box, with just a six figure grid ref was found quickly and on site. Well hidden, and with just a dozen or so entries in the visitors book, this box has remained undiscovered for much of it's 23 years (!) on the moor.  The other box proved more elusive, and I failed to find it.  I suspected, as with many boxes on Bodmin Moor, it was missing, and this was due to the 10 figure grid reference it offered.  Anyone with a smartphone and a free App could locate this box, since the clue is widely available.  This is surely the same fate Dartmoor Letterboxes face with full grid references.

The views from the rim of Woodbarrow Hangings were impressive in the late afternoon sunshine.  The Bristol Channel is close by, and is full of ships, mostly large cargo vessels.  The narrow channel allowed views beyond to the Welsh mountains - a Letterboxing destination that would have to wait.  My route back to the car was via the absurdly named Pinkery Pond.  Pinkery is a local disambiguation of Pinkworthy (this IS North Devon!).  The manmade pond dams the River Barle, though the purpose for this 19th century creation remains unknown although several theories exist.

Heading South, down the river valley, I passed the Pinkery Youth Hostel and Outdoor Adventure Centre.  Clearly a significant investment has been made here in both the building and in a wind turbine to provide electricity.

This is a beautiful corner of Devon, and though it has much in common with the Moor next door, it is yet so different - not least in the geology - which is predominately shale, sandstone and slate.  The trip to Exmoor was well worth it.

The Getaway - Part II

View from the Bishop of Barf

With a week's annual leave, I put aside my studies for a while and made a long overdue visit to some friends in the North of England. This also provided me with an opportunity to attempt (again) Letterboxing in the Lake District. I've been here before.  I used to live in Keswick, in Northern Lakeland, and I have tried, unsuccessfully, on more than one occasion to find Letterboxes around here.  This time would surely be different.

The Bishop of Barf, or Bishop Rock

There are now longer lists of boxes in the National Park, but to cast my net wider still, I approached some Letterboxers who had links to the Lake District.  Perhaps they had knowledge of existing Letterboxes.  One reply sounded perfect...  last confirmed on site 2-and-a-half years ago by the owner...  No more than a mile from the road...  Hidden with a bottle of beer...  Lets go!

This particular box belongs to 'The old man of the Moor' aka 86 year-old Ken of Tavistock.  He has been Dartmoor Letterboxing for many decades, but has visited family in Applethwaite every year for 40 years.  Nearby, and on the steep, loose scree slopes of the absurdly named hill 'Barf' is a local landmark.  A bright white painted rock.  This is Bishop's Rock.  Legend has it that the Bishop of Derry wagered in a local hostelry that he could ride his horse to the summit of Barf via this direct, craggy route.  The rock stands at a point where both hapless horse and rider stumbled, and fell to their deaths.  Every few years, the local mountain rescue and other volunteers scramble up the hill to repaint the rock, which is visible for miles around.

Ken's Letterbox & Beer

In 1993, Ken climbed up to the 'Bishop of Barf' and sited a letterbox of the same name.  He informed me that the box was found sporadically during the early 21st century, and his last visit was in September 2012.  On this occasion he left a stamped addressed postcard to himself for the next visitor to return, and a bottle of local Jennings Beer.  He was yet to receive the card back so assumed it remained unfound.

Don't look down!!

Barf is located on the opposite side of the valley to Skiddaw - England's 4th highest mountain.  Barf is not so high, but quite dramatic.  At 460 metres, Barf is about the same height as Three Barrows, but the car park is at 60 metres altitude and only 400 metres distant from the summit.  You must understand that the gradients are unmatched on Dartmoor!  When asked by Ken if I wished to find his box, he did enquire if I was scared of heights, and advised against any decent from the rock, less I wished to lose the backside of my trousers!

View from Barf summit over Bassenthwaite Lake

The descent route

The box is sited 60 paces from a lone Rowan tree, named by Alfred Wainwright as the 'solitary tree'. On it's trunk I could make out some familiar, carved initials of OMOTM - the Old Man Of The Moor, not far from Bishop Rock. I found the box, and the beer, both on site and in great condition.  I pocketed the postcard, stamped the visitors book, and took a few copies of the stamp in rapidly worsening weather.  Hiding the box again, I considered how right Ken's advice was!  The box is about halfway up the slope.   I was between a rock and a hard place. So far this was a proper scramble. Above me, this terrain continued, with a semi-rock climb in gale force winds with rain and sleet pelting me as I approached the summit.  I am full of admiration of Ken who completed this route in 2012 in his mid-80s.  I collapsed in a heap upon reaching shelter near the summit cairn, struggling to catch my breath.

I took the walkers path back to the car, which was more like a stream and was very slippery in places.  

The day had proved that Lake District Letterboxing has little in common with Dartmoor Letterboxing.  Thoroughly enjoyable and hugely rewarding. Hard work, and potentially hazardous though.  The beer, unfortunately, didn't taste so good after it's long wait...

'Solitary tree' (centre) and Bishop Rock (bottom right) from descent route

The direct ascent route to the Bishop of Barf.

Next up: Exmoor

The Getaway - Part I

- March -

Lambing season - Dogs on leads please!
Swaling in progress - Stay well away!

Ground nesting birds - Do not disturb!

Phew! Well... I didn't want to visit Dartmoor anyway...

This month I have decided to escape from the normal haunts and hidey-holes.  To explore the nation, and try letterboxing in other UK hotspots.

Yesterday was the turn of Bodmin Moor.  For me, no trip to Dartmoor is possible without a drive over this patch of green.  On the A30 approach to Jamaica Inn, my eyes are always drawn North towards the highest and steepest visible land.  These are Rough (pronounced Row - this is Cornwall) Tor and the absurdly named Brown Willy - it's Cornish name is Bronn Wennili or 'Hill of Swallows'.  I will point out, steep and high are both relative.  Brown Willy is about as lofty as Cramber Tor, and about as steep as Leather Tor.  Not to poo-poo the peak though: Kernow's highest point puts it high in the English County-Top league table.  Ranked at number 13 in fact, just behind Worcestershire Beacon.

So having stared it from behind the wheel so much, it seemed appropriate to actually visit this mysterious moor with my walking boots on.  I parked at a sizeable car park at the end of Roughtor Road - at the end of a cul-de-sac that leads straight out of Camelford.  The view from here is dominated by a ridge with three rocky Tors atop - these being Showery Tor, Little Rough Tor and Rough Tor.

There have been letterboxes on Bodmin Moor for many years.  My OS map (from 2003) actually has one marked on Brown Willy's summit.  Though this is no longer the case (though there is a geocache there instead!).  I did have a handful of boxes to find courtesy of The Stationary Traveller's excellent off-Dartmoor letterbox list at Gamblenet.  With the first on the list on Showery Tor, it was to this outcrop that I headed first.

The scenery, though fabulous, was unfamiliar: factories, plantations, lakes and wind turbines pepper the surrounding landscape.  The geology and ecology were very familiar.  Very Western upland: granite, stubby grass, heather and gorse.  This was generally undisturbed ground.  Logan stones un-tipped.  Some densely vegetated slopes and generally few paths.

Missing letterboxes however suggest there is one thing in common with the Devon moor next-door.  I left Showery Tor bereft of any stamps,  though the next destination was clear.  Brown Willy loomed in the East (giggle).  There is no Dartmoor peak like this.  A stand-alone hill, an airy ridge.  A site of Special Scientific Interest, with remnants of prehistoric human habitation low down on both East and West sides.  Plus letterboxes, some of which were on site!  A great, historic spot to visit, and I highly recommend it.  I returned to the car via Rough Tor.  Many other walkers were enjoying the scenery and the great weather.  Or perhaps they were preparing for St Piran's Day. Cornwall's patron saint would be very proud of this place.  I like it a lot, and I hope to return again soon.  

Next week: The Lake District.

End of season clearance

While I was on Whitehorse Hill the other week, I took pity on an abandoned artefact.  Not a part cut millstone, or forgotten granite trough, but an old tin that was more Litterbox than Letterbox.  All that was immediately visible in a collapsed section of bank was a broken, rusty ammunition tin.  Inside, a plastic ice cream tub with a few damp, unreadable pages of a once full visitors book.  No stamp, and no identifying marks on any part was to be seen.

I was left in no doubt that this old timer needed removal.  The fact that it had not already been removed was possibly due to its weight and size.  I don't carry a large rucksack so I did have to repack all my belongings to make room inside.  As stated in previous posts (such as "Merry Christmas" - Dec 2012), I am no box thief, but I do like responsible behaviour when it comes to damaged boxes.  If they cannot be repaired on the hill, and it's condition has deteriorated to such an extend that it is a hazard, eyesore or detriment to the hobby, a letterbox should be removed.  Whenever possible, the owners should be sought and informed.

This box was sited 34 paces on 247 degrees from the top Peat Pass marker in the East Dart Cut.  I noted this information hoping I'd be able to identify it later.

An ammo can suggests it was sited pre-1997 when rules were updated.  However I have scoured old Letterbox catalogues for clues reminiscent of this - so far without success.  If you can identify it, please let me know.  It has seen it's final Dartmoor Winter though.

New clues: The Depths of Winter

No.1   

No.2   

No.3   

No.4   (Contains visitors book)

No.5   

No.6  

No.7   

No.8   

This series has now been removed from the Moor.

Questions and comments to whoisthechallenger@rocketmail.com

Hangingstone Hill and surrounds

The mist was thick, the temperature low.  That I'd found the Tor at all without a GPS was something of a miracle, and the walk had taken a little longer than usual. Hopes that I'd rise above the cloud up here were dashed, and instead of looking out on the glorious vista that I remember, I could only see the far side of the outcrop.  As Letterboxing goes, these first 2 hours had frankly been a disappointment.  The one box that I could search for, given its limited clue - was missing.

I decided to cut my losses and head for Hangingstone Hill.  If the mist were clear, and the sun was to shine (as forecasts led me to believe would eventually happen), it would start at the highest point.

I crossed Watern Combe and headed West for the track between Wild Tor and high Hill's summit hut.  I stumbled on a letterbox and my day improved a bit.  As I reached the track and set off South, I glimpsed patches of snow.  My day improved a touch more.  I could handle a patch of snow.  Then the cloud started to clear..

To start, I could just make out the Thirlstone, then Wild Tor, and the lone fir tree between them.  A touch of sunlight, and the scene warmed up.  Bearings achievable, I could find letterboxes again.  Then I found a moving box.  Yes - a moving box!  I haven't found a moving box since 2009, on a walk around Sharpitor.  By now the views were extensive.  The day was improving at quite a pace!

One of my main reasons to do this walk was to visit the cist on Whitehorse Hill.  This recent discovery - only made when part of the burial chamber fell out of the peat bank forcing archaeologists to excavate the site - was subject to a major exhibition in Plymouth Museum last year.  The contents of the site radically altered our view of Dartmoor in the Bronze Age.  The discovery of artefacts made of organic material which would have usually disintegrated after 4000 years in acidic soil were fascinating. Textiles, leather, wooden ear studs, amber, shale, tin studs and bead - the earliest evidence ever found of metal working in the region.  This was a burial of significance in the bronze age, and also in the 21st century as we try to make sense of our past.

After reflecting at the spot for a while, I noted rain clouds building far to the West, and left the hill.  Making tracks for Hew Lake, I decided on a direct path for the car.  I must commend the Dartmoor Rangers for replacing all the Manga Rails since my request in my blog post last year. They are fine new set, and ready for any storm, I reckon!  

I wandered into the car park at Scorhill at sunset. As Letterboxing days go, I'd had better.  I'd only found 11 boxes and walked a very long way for them.  Perseverance is always rewarded, and this day was no exception.