This issue Max and Russell head to Dartmoor for some challenging technical riding in the area around Hound Tor
Max is in the mood for some challenging and technical riding, and that’s exactly what this Dartmoor classic serves up with its steep hillsides and rocky trails
With an overwhelming desire to do some technical and remote riding, combined with finally being allowed to travel a bit further, we decided to indulge ourselves with a trip to Dartmoor. For at least 12,000 years, man has hunted, farmed, mined, quarried and lived here. The place is dripping in history, with folklore, legends and stories of murders, wild hounds and ghosts. This is the largest area of open country in the south of England, providing some welcome rough, rugged and wild moorland for our oversanitised minds (and hands!). The centre and east of Dartmoor is home to arguably the best riding, so that’s exactly where we’re headed, starting near the pleasant little town of Bovey Tracey.
Geography lesson
With its prevailing south-westerly winds, Dartmoor is often wetter, warmer and windier than much of the UK, hence the local saying ‘nine months’ winter and three months’ bad weather’. Snapper Russell isn’t impressed as we emerge from the van under a blanket of black cloud, and I wonder if we may end up being another sorry story of misery out on the moors. With all the recent dry weather the landscape is noticeably less technicolour than usual, the trees and plants struggling to burst into life. There’s even a distinct lack of the characteristic moss clinging to the trees and rocks. I’m certainly
not going to complain about dry trails though, as parts of the moor can get very boggy and rutted. Granite rock forms the surface and underlying ground for most of Dartmoor, which is what makes the area instantly recognisable, and happily it’s grippy even when wet. It was formed from magma around 300 million years ago, and over a few million years the rocks above the granite have eroded, exposing it to create Dartmoor’s distinctive tors – rock outcrops on the summits of its hills.
After donning another layer, Russell and I set off up a gradual climb, which warms me up nicely. After a kilometre on the hard stuff we peel off onto a bridleway, where the gradient kicks up. It’s a stern test for my legs, which are used to the small local hills I’ve been confined to for the past year. Having to chase Russell on his Specialized e-bike really isn’t making the reintroduction any easier.
Highs and lows
Eventually we reach a road where we can not only enjoy the relatively flat route traversing the hillside, but also the far-reaching views across the National Park. We’ve quickly gained some 200m in height and are able to look down the valley at the van way below us. It’s at this point that I realise that’s exactly where I’ve left my phone, wallet and keys! There’s no way I’m riding back down then up again so we press on and pray the items are out of sight.
I have a sinking feeling they’re not.
We pick up a fast, wide track that guides us around the back of Black Hill. With nothing too challenging except fast corners and a few rocks, it gives us a good warm-up for our reactions and handling skills. Which is just as well, because the descent to Becka Brook is far more technical and really tests our skills as we negotiate the rounded rocks that bubble out of the ground. A walking group at the bottom of the hill offer encouragement and gasps of awe – or is it fright? – as we bounce our way down and cross the old packhorse bridge. The climb on the other side is steep, but with an active audience I find the motivation to dig deep and power my way up. Near the top we burst onto the open moorland, where we’re greeted by the wonderful sight of Hound Tor, popular with climbers and site of a medieval settlement. We bear right, across the hillside between Hound Tor and the old settlement, where you can still see the remains of 13th-century longhouses. Six households had farmed here since the Neolithic age, until it was deserted in the late 14th century, for reasons lost in the mists of time – or the moor.
It may have been a harsh, bleak existence out here in winter, but right from their front door we’re able to enjoy a rather nice singletrack descent. The hardpacked sliver of dirt cuts across the moorland, with a sprinkling of rocks to keep things interesting, before a rockfest finale delivers us to the roadside with wide grins splitting our faces. Even more so because I’m starving, and the famous Hound of the Basket Meals food van is just at the top of this hill, in the Hound Tor car park. Better still, with my wallet
THE DESCENT TO BECK A BROOK IS FAR MORE TECHNICAL AND TESTS OUR SKILLS AS WE NEGOTIATE THE ROUNDED ROCKS THAT BUBBLE OUT OF THE GROUND
back in the van, it’s Russell’s shout today! Alas, when we reach the car park the van is nowhere to be seen, so with my stomach rumbling and Russell’s cash safe for now, we reluctantly ride on.
Soon we swing off the road once more, onto a track that leads us up over Bowerman’s Nose. As is often the case with dead-straight bridleways marked on a map across moorland, there’s nothing there on the ground, so it’s best to find the faint track a little further on. We take a moment to enjoy the vista and rocks on the top of this hill, as it probably offers better views than Hound Tor, and is deserted too, so a win-win in my opinion. If only we had some food! The next descent to Hayne Cross is really good fun and compensates for my empty stomach with its rutted trail and rocks to drop and weave between. We cruise into the village of Manaton and join a fun and scenic bridleway towards the village of Water. After a good bit of singletrack we find ourselves riding alongside what appears to be a wide stone wall with a grassy top. This underground house was built secretively and retrospective planning was sought after enough time had elapsed, meaning the owners could keep their Tubbytronic Superdome home.
Trials and tribulations
Before entering Water, we fork left onto a lush trail full of rocks and roots, and with a steady trickle of water running along it – it’s the original bridleway, not the permissive option. Crossing the new bridge over the River Bovey, we then ascend the other side of the valley on some challenging, rocky terrain. The next trail inspires a mix of love and loathing, as we cling to the side of the valley on a narrow ribbon, weaving over and between rocks and gnarled trees. It’s a stuttering, schizophrenic affair, with some sections requiring a dab or dismount, and others providing a wave of joy and elation as you clean them. Being out of practice and near the end of the ride, we’re definitely feeling like it’s more of the former. I can see why it gets the nickname ‘Trials Trail’. However, it also delivers a fine reward after a stiff climb past Peck Farm up onto the ridgetop by Hunters Tor.
A lovely stretch of singletrack with wonderful views wends its way along the ridge and then into the trees before we reach a fabulous rocky descent, known locally as ‘Nutcracker’ – another aptlynamed trail. Line choice is crucial so don’t rush in too fast, but going too slow can lead to you stalling, so it’s definitely worth scoping out and sessioning to get the most out of this trail. A gate marks the end and we’re quite relieved to reach it in one piece, with hands and arms pumped from battling this difficult descent. It’s a short hike before we’re dropping down past the start of the Foxworthy ‘Trials Trail’ again, but we keep bearing left, enjoying one more little flourish before we crank up our last hill of the day.
All that remains now is a fast blast into the valley along a recently-felled hillside, which provides yet more glorious views before we lose height. The widened trail doesn’t offer any technical challenges other than negotiating the corners and loose stones at high speed (probably just as well with our tired limbs) so we hang on and enjoy some free speed for a refreshing change. After crossing the impressively lumpy stone bridge at the bottom we make our way back up to the van, and there to welcome me, in full sight on the front seat, sit my phone, wallet and keys. I breathe a sigh of relief and take it as a sign that maybe things really are moving in the right direction now. Fingers crossed.