Once Moor

I'd like to apologise for that horrific excuse for a pun, really I would...

A belated Sunday post here, with no further apologies as you're doubtless used to my erratic timing by now. ;)

With the forecast for moderate west or nor'westerlies, with overcast and maybe a bit of sunshine, the Folks and I went up on't Moor to do a walk they'd done a few years back; following the Avon up to Broad Falls, then cutting behind Huntingdon Warren to Snowdon and back down the ridge to the dam. A shower en route was not in the forecast, but when we arrived at Shipley Bridge the sun was back out, and the Avon valley was its usual hot sultry self.

Golden-ringed and Common Hawker Dragonflies [no damsels, though - though we didn't hang around, as there were miles to go and so on] buzzed around the boggy bits [which still look very interesting, if ever I get around to looking at them properly]. Grey Wagtails and a juvenile female Sprawk being harassed by a Crow were the best birds before we started climbing out past the dam and met a group of mixed thrushes and Chaffinches munching the berries [looks like a lot of Rowan again]. The reservoir itself had nary a Mallard, let alone anything interesting, and as we thankfully diverged ways from a large horde of Happy Hikers, a big black cloud brooding over the tops to our north sent a couple turning back [well, we didn't actually ask them if they'd been scared off by the weather, but their body language suggested it..]

Personally, I was rather enheartened by this, as I'm not a fan of the heat and bright sun [I'll put up with it for odonata], and more rain means fewer emmets. The Folks are of the other persuasion, but to their credit, even when it started drizzling on us they just 'proofed up and kept going. Tilly, well she had seen sheep and was... keen for more...

Bird of the day was a gorgeous Wheatear, which popped up onto a wall at close range, looking all fresh and pretty. Less good was the amount of water up there. It's a rare sight to see the Avon Falls [when the reservoir is full and pouring over the top of the dam] in summer, and upstream all the boggy bits were very wet, all the streams were pretty full, and the going was 'interesting'. Also, with the Avon valley being much rougher going then even a couple of years ago, it was decided at the Mythical Avon Clapper Bridge to change the plan. Over the river we went, up the hill, and over to the tramways. Time had moved on in that way it does and lunch was needed, but the wind was fairly keen and getting some shelter from it a good idea. But where? This is one of the Great Arts of enjoying t' Moor; finding good spots to stop! With Tilbury Dog along, this is made even more complex, as she will a) bark at any livestock in sight [and I do mean any, up to tiny dots miles away if they move] and b) bark at any passers by in case they try to steal 'her' [ie. our] lunch - though she will now stop that when told to. She's an interesting little dog..

Finding shelter from the wind on a gently curving hillside when it's blowing upslope into the tin workings is not simple, but fortunately, t' Moor's industrial heritage [as they like to say] has left a few other nice bits of scenery. Some people don't like the various stone ruins, but I think they're great. Not only of archaeological interest but also wonderful windbreaks. Alas, the coobeasties think so too, and they really churn the ground to mud - which, while I don't mind muddy boots, would also lead to muddy dog, and as these were old china clay buildings... Yeah, not good. However, a leetle lateral thinking and a solution was found; next door were a couple of settling tanks, now dry and with a useful rim. Just sitting on the edge took the main force off the wind, sitting inside took all of it off, though at a cost of the panorama. Tilly had nothing to tangle herself around and no view to bark at, so she could concentrate on her 'Poor Starving Animal' routine. Result.

The tramway leads back to Shipley [well, one branch does, the other goes to Ivybridge - pick the right one or be sorry!], but matters were complicated by the herds of coobeasties and their calves. Some cattle are pretty laid back, and will just stare at madly barking dogs, but some aren't [even those without calves, as we found at Sourton...] and with a dog we can't let off the lead it can get dodgy. [[The rules are pretty simple; stick together, look big, and never ever run]]. Eventually after several detours we had no choice but to go straight through a big herd, but they were nice coobeasties, and while a few of the younger bullocks had a trot, they mostly just got up and watched Tilly being dogmarched past.

We went on past the Sub to Black Tor, where we had coffee in the sun and out of the wind. A couple of different distant dark brown soaring raptors eventually resolved into Buzzards [quelle surpris], and it was nice in a relaxed way.