By: Blonde Two
Little-Miss-Blonde and I had cause to be walking by the River Lyd in the dark the other day. You may be glad to hear that we didn’t fall in you may be glad to hear that we didn’t fall out and you may also be glad to hear that we didn’t fall over.
Even in the dark, it was a fairly easy path to follow; the only obstacles were a bit of barbed wire, and a boulder to step (L-M-B) or scramble (B2) over. We had good head torches and could see where we were going.
Which is why I can’t really understand how we ended up walking, not on the clearly defined path alongside the river, but on top of one of Dartmoor’s speciality grass-topped walls.
We, like so many of Dartmoor’s sheep, were quite happy up there until we realised navigational error. The wall was flat, it was wide and it provided plenty of grass to eat; so we stayed, until the wall narrowed and the grass ran out.
I am sure that I have had more bizarre Dartmoor in the dark experiences; but I can’t think of one right now.