Showing posts with label camping trips. Show all posts
Showing posts with label camping trips. Show all posts

Tuesday, 26 May 2009

Another Camp Ride


The forecast was good for the bank holiday weekend, so at the last minute the girls and I packed the tent, saddled up and rode out for 3 days. This is us leaving the farm where we keep the ponies. We met up with friends, and rode out to Manaton, where we stayed at Wingstone Farm. This was a new place to stay for us, but we couldn't have asked for a better place. It is not a proper campsite, but that makes it more special! Juliette Rich, the owner, does lovely Bed and Breakfast in the house, but is happy to take tents and horses. She made us feel very welcome, and we will definitely be returning in future!


We pitched our tent in the meadow by the stream, under the oak trees. This is a beautiful stretch of meadow and woodland in the bottom of the valley below Hayne Down and The Bowerman's Nose. The clear water gurgled and splashed beside our tent, and the meadow was bursting with wildflowers. We are in the middle of bluebell season, and everywhere you turn, there are carpets of blue. I turned my ponies out in the meadow alongside us - there was far more grass than they are used too, but it was a nice treat after a hard day's riding.



There are also lovely big airy stables in the barn, where my friend Kathryn kept her two ponies, as the grass in the meadow was too rich for them.


On the second day , we set off along the Dartmoor way, down through Houndtor Woods. The beginning of the track sloped down steeply, and was very stony. This is the worst terrain for Red and Foggy, as they are barefoot, but I led Red down, and he picked his way carefully. At the bottom of the valley the track became softer, and we followed the river along before turning back onto the moor, and following a sheep track up across Trendlebeare down. The path down to the river crossing was steep and rocky. This is where the barefoot ponies come into their own. A lot of the track involved climbing down from boulder to boulder. Without shoes, there is far less chance of slipping on the smooth granite. I again led Red, but the children on their surefooted hill ponies just hopped and scrambled down the hillside. At the bottom, back in the bluebell woods, was a clear, cool river, a welcome drink before climbing up the other side of the gorge, and eventually emerging into the hot sun at Houndtor. We stopped for ice - creams at the van in the car - park below the rocks, before heading back across Hayne Down to Wingstone.

After a paddle in the stream, my youngest daughter and I spent a quiet hour in the beech trees, making fairy houses!



It's always fun to have a camp fire! The girls made toast, and then decided to split bananas open and stuff them with broken chocolate biscuits before baking them on the fire!

They said they were delicious!


On Monday, it was a little cooler and we set off home via Holwell and Bonehill rocks and down into Widecombe for a lunch stop, before a long haul back across the moor. 6 hours in the saddle on this last day, but we had such a wonderful time! The ponies ( and Red) all behaved perfectly for the whole trip, like true trail ponies! The older girls did lots of cantering and jumping, and discovering their brakes on the open moor, and dear little Foggy took perfect care of my youngest daughter, trundling after the older girls when she wanted him too, or walking back with us if she didn't want to follow them. He never moved an inch while she climbed on and off him, dropped his reins while trying to open gates, or was mobbed by crowds of children on the village green at Widecombe.

Here we are, the whole gang ( except me - I'm always behind the camera!) . Red, the appaloosa is my ride, and the two grey ponies are ours - Matthew, a dartmoor hill pony, and Foggy, our little Welsh mountain pony. My friend Kathryn, has Yeoman, an elderly grey Highland pony, and her daughter rides Bramble, another dartmoor hill pony.

Saturday, 16 August 2008

What a lovely English Summer!

WOW! We have only just dried out from the camping trip. What a washout! We managed to pick the worst three days of the summer, but in true British fashion we decided to go on in the rain anyway! Still, it wasn't an unmitigated disaster - there were some great bits as well as some extremely wet bits, and most of us had a good time.
We rode out on Monday, in light rain, from Chagford to Holwell via Bowermans Nose, and stopped at Hound Tor for a late lunch, from the van in the carpark. They do a sterling job there all summer, serving real sausages and burgers , and homemade cake, to tired walkers, washed down with a decent mug of tea ( in a real mug, not a plastic cup). The best, and cheapest meal around!






The rain became torrential as we arrived at
Holwell Farm, where Sebastien and Phillipa Hughes had very kindly allowed us to camp with the horses. The farm is one of the most picturesque spots on the moor, nestled in a valley, with views of Haytor and beyond. You couldn't find a better base for walking and riding. What we hadn't bargained for were the free range piglets! Cute and hilarious as they were, the horses were not impressed, and Red, who is quite phobic about pigs , became a jibbering wreck.

Poor boy! He couldn't settle at all. We turned them all out together, but Red spent the whole night standing on the highest rock in the field, stamping a warning and 'barking' like a stallion calling the alarm. It was a really wild night, and neither he, nor us in the field next door got more than a couple of hours sleep. The wind and the rain were deafening. Thankfully the tent was snug and dry, and we weren't washed down the hill in the rain.


Rain paused for long enough for us to venture out again, (this is the view from Bonehill Rocks, down the valley beside Chinkwell and Honeybags Tors) Normally we would ride into Widecombe and tie ponies up at the pub, but this time we opted to walk out without them. There is always a fire going at The Old Inn, and good food, and it is a great place to warm up.








Wednesday dawned dark and roughly. We sat in the tent for as long as we could, putting off the moment of getting drenched, but there comes a point when you just have to brave it! We did, only to discover that little Cleo was lame. The day was looking grim, certainly for the children, and then - we were rescued! As we rounded the corner to the farmyard, there was my friend's husband with the horsebox. Completely out of contact as we were (no phone signal in the valleys) everyone was starting to worry about us out in the storms. The little ponies charged into the horsebox, quite desperate to get home, just leaving myself and Kathryn, and her daughter, to ride for home as fast as we could.

So we have finally recovered, none the worse for our adventure, apart from Cleo who has strained her tendon, but is looking much improved now.

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