Doing The Right Thing

As the saying goes; "No good deed goes unpunished"* More on this to come.

It was time to get out and about on Sunday, and once more the winter Moor beckoned. Get it in while you can, for soon the hordes** will again descend, was my thinking. Har bloody har - forgot it was half term already. Too bladdy late. Oh well.

[[* This being reality.]]

[[** Ten Tors, D of E, and the unwashed masses. Am I merely an antisocial git, or do I at least have a point about all the litter?]]

I'd stuck to the main roads for fear of ice - steep twisty narrow wet lanes with granite edges do not mix well with sub-zero temperatures, after all - but it was warmer up there than at home. Not counting wind chill. The ground was frozen pretty hard in the morning, though by afternoon that had mostly thawed, and though the wind was brisk and toothy, that too eventually eased, though not 'til well past 4..

Oh yeah, the 'where' might help. :) I parked near Black Tor [the one between Princetown and Burrator] and dropped into the Meavy valley to pick up the Devonport Leat. I'm pretty sure I've gone through it before, [somewhere in Year One, I think] so I won't burble on too much; suffice to say its a nice walk at any time of year when the wind isn't too strong. On a day of good visibility and light wind the views are quite something. However, if the wind is in the southern half of the compass and there's rain, its pretty unforgiving.

My route was a simple loop on a string - along the Leat to Nun's Cross [where the Leat ducks under the ridge - this as well as crossing the Meavy via aqueduct; some engineering] then hanging a right to Hingston Hill, left to Combeshead Tor, then over to Eylesbarrow Mine via the Potato Cave, before following my favourite track back to Nun's Cross, then the Leat back to Black Tor. Simples.

Certainly simple navigation; nice paths to follow and not even a stream to ford or jump - all bridges. Ah, luxury! The weather had looked a bit iffy en route, with dark clouds looming and a stream of white mist flowing past North Hessary Tor which seemed ominous, but in fact it proved fine. It even got sunny. :D Later on it threatened more and got dark quite early, but aside from a little drizzle as I drove home it stayed dry. Which was nice of it, I have to say.

I'd figured open winter moorland with not-too-close trees and a few decent girts meant I'd be looking at about 6 species of birds, so my main focus was Hingston, home of one of the finest rows and circles on the Moor. If you ever feel like visiting, do it properly and come from the north - Nun's Cross. There's a path which takes you right to it. First you'll see a big cairn on your left and the remains of a pound on your right, then as you pass between them you meet the terminus of the row. Mostly still standing, it leads in a marked and undoubtedly deliberate dogleg up to the stone circle, just shy of the summit of the hill. Many small circles on the Moor are cairn-circles - pretty much there to contain and bound a burial mound - but this is clearly more than that. This is a circle with a cairn, more properly maybe, a circle around a cairn. Even if the works of the ancestors aren't your thing, its worth a look if you're passing.

Alas, I didn't get to enjoy it alone, so I didn't linger but instead found a lunch spot out of the wind. Sitting at Combeshead, it was only then that I truly realised how busy the Moor was; people everywhere! Ye Gods and Little Fishes, you'd think it was August... Oh, well. Explained the bods before, at least. I pressed on, a little more quickly than I would have done if it was quieter - not much likely to be about, after all. Maybe if I got back sharp enough I could detour to Bucky and have a look for all those Mandarin that kept getting reported?

As I followed the Leat, though, I saw something else. Two brown metal boxes - ammunition boxes. Sat on the path beside the Leat, near a clapper bridge. Odd, they weren't there earlier. Hmm, 7.62mm machine gun ammunition, blank, they said on the sides - not the usual 5.56mm rifle stuff. I naturally opened one up and was very surprised to see that yes indeed that was what was in them.

Shit.

Just left there, for any teenage idiot to find and play with. Or lucky individual with Other Intent. Blanks may not have bullets, but they've got everything else and can be converted. Not good. Clearly left on purpose, but what if I'm not the only one to find it first? What will you do? I thought about hiding it more effectively - ie in the Leat under the bridge - but then civic duty got in the way so out came the phone. I have the Commandant's number for such situations on my phone - I found a live smoke grenade a few years back*** and they were very grateful - or I did, as it is now disconnected... Ok, Police it is.

So, one good deed and 90 minutes of sitting in the wind watching the clouds gather later, a copper in a landie arrives and removes the offending items. He's quite happy to get out of the station, I'm quite happy to get home. Hopefully, the rounds have found their way home by now, though in Okie barracks, some poor member of Her Majesty's Finest is probably still peeling spuds, ears still ringing with "Out of the public's sight does not mean on a path!'...

Birds almost seem like an afterthought compared to all the drama. 12 species, including Red Grouse - flushed by a cyclist - and a flyover Snipe late on, plus a Grey Heron while I was waiting, so not bad at all. Indeed, before I found those brown boxes, this would have been a very different post. Funny how things happen.

[[*** Up on the Okie artillery range, a live smoke grenade, clearly dropped and forgotten. I called it in [I'd noticed the number on the range boards and saved it just in case] and it was duly collected. Very exciting, I know. ;) ]]