Equiery World Travelers
The Misty Moors of Dartmoor
By Barbara Smith, Lothian T e fi rst morning in England was heavy
mist across the moors and visibility was limited. What I could see looked exactly like I imagined, a scene from Hound of the Baskervilles or Jamaica Inn. Ghostly hedges revealed hidden farmyards, complete with thatched roof cottages and low barns. We had come to Dartmoor National Park in Exeter, England to ride across the famous moors for a couple days before continuing on to Devon and Cornwall. Rosie Campbell, MFH of Bull Run Hunt in Culpeper, Virginia, her husband Chris Allen and son-in- law, Spencer Allen, plus my husband Michael and I had driven down to Bovey Castle from London. It had been cool, with some showers and by 4 p.m. we met in the lovely sitting room for a traditional Devon cream tea. Delicious and decadent. We only had it once! Buttery biscuits, topped with berry jam and then the cream, which really looks like butter, is so good. Bovey Castle is a luxurious spa in the heart of Dartmoor and caters to hunting and fi shing activities of all sorts. T ey have partnered with Liberty Trails, the equine brainchild of Elaine and Robert Prior, which off ers riding holidays across these moors made famous by Sherlock Holmes and more recently, Stephen Spielberg’s movie “War Horse.” I had received an invitation from Liberty
country riding and T oroughbred horses. She delivered on her promise and the six horses were all 15.3 to 17-hand English sport horse types. A friend of Elaine’s supplied all the horses and they were lovely. When hunting in Ireland I had learned to tell the livery people I was a mom of three and wanted a timid, slow, old horse. T is insured I was not breaking in their latest two-year-old T oroughbred. Since the Mongol Derby adventure I cannot get away with this ploy
England
for little hillocks and small white fl owers growing amongst the green grass as a marker for the bogs. However, we seemed to be in the bog before we realized it, and several times Matt, my young horse, did not like the “mushy” footing and seemed anxious to get out of the bog. All the horses were very sure-footed and careful.
Ponies and Stones
Everywhere we rode there were wild Dartmoor ponies. Elaine said the many individual herds tend to stay within a seven-mile radius circle and the villagers all know whose ponies are whose! Twice a year they have a pony round-up, similar to Chincoteague in Virginia, and sell some internationally. T e ponies were not bothered by our horses and it was wonderful to watch the foals and mares. Several curious youngsters would follow us for a while before dashing back to mom. T e rocky outcrops on top of the hills
Barbara Smith and friends riding across the moors
Trails to ride in their inaugural Dartmoor Derby in September 2015. Loosely based on the idea of the Mongol Derby, which I did in 2014, they were off ering a three-day “race” across the moors with more luxurious “camping” than the aforementioned Mongol Derby. As I believe I used several of my nine lives completing the Mongol Derby I declined the race opportunity but asked for more information. T e resulting brochure and descriptions of riding holidays sounded like a great way to explore a beautiful and remote part of England. I mentioned it to Rosie, who grew up in Devon, and she agreed it would be a lovely way to show her home to her husband and son-in-law. I contacted some fellow Mongol Derby riders, Chris Maude and Rob Skinner, who lived in Cheltenham and Exeter respectively, and told them they had to come and see me. I missed them. We were planning on two days of riding on the moor and then splitting up to do some sightseeing.
First Day’s Ride Elaine and Robert Prior picked us up the
fi rst morning and we headed to the yard for the horses. She had promised “eventing-type” cross-
www.equiery.com | 800-244-9580
anymore. I was told I was given her best horse, Marco. He was a beautiful bay with a forward manner and I loved him. Elaine said he was her favorite with which to lead the rides. Two friends of Rosie’s had also joined us, so the range of riders from beginners to experienced would be hard for anyone to judge unseen, but I thought Elaine did a good job pairing riders with suitable horses. Some changes were made the next day and Rosie had Marco. I was given another beautiful hunter type named Matt. T e owner said, “He is young, a little forward, you’ll be fi ne.” I have heard this before and took one look at the full pelham and fl ash noseband and nodded OK. He defi nitely wanted to be up front but had lovely gaits and I enjoyed him too. Spencer Allen, the huntsman with Live Oak Hounds in Florida, and his dad Chris, Rosie’s husband,
seemed
pleased with their horses and we were off . We trotted along narrow, hedge-lined lanes until splitting off through a farmer’s pasture to the top of the moor. Suddenly the mist cleared and we could see forever! I had no idea there was this expanse of rugged, wild land in rural England. Elaine said it was about 300,000 acres and the landscape varied from rocky outcrops to small pastures bordered with the famous English hedges. Bogs are infamous here and travelers are warned to be very careful. Elaine said to watch
are called tors and they number in the hundreds on the moor. Each is named
and is a well-known local landmark. We would fi nd one on the horizon and ride towards it as our marker. T ere were also very large piles of boulders that were the rock wall remnants of what I would call prisoner “chain-gangs.” Nearby Dartmoor Prison has a long and notorious history as a prisoner-of-war holding. Even American War of 1812 soldiers were held here and the prisoners did hard labor piling boulders to build the endless walls across the moor. It is at times a desolate, foreboding landscape under grey storm-fi lled skies. T e sun did come out our second day and then the beautiful green fi elds looked like a Jane Austen movie. Elaine showed
Dartmoor ponies roaming free along the hilltops
us the small farm where Steven Spielberg fi lmed the plowing scene in “War Horse.” It was immediately recognizable by the shape of the fi eld, if you remember Joey, the horse, trying to go up and down in straight lines. We rode past Bronze Age stone circles and
mysterious double rows of small standing stones. T ese paths are supposedly along “ley lines” across the moors, sometimes separated by long distances, but still in a straight line leading to some long forgotten sacred spot. Other
continued... OCTOBER 2016 | THE EQUIERY | 39
906028-161016
Page 1 |
Page 2 |
Page 3 |
Page 4 |
Page 5 |
Page 6 |
Page 7 |
Page 8 |
Page 9 |
Page 10 |
Page 11 |
Page 12 |
Page 13 |
Page 14 |
Page 15 |
Page 16 |
Page 17 |
Page 18 |
Page 19 |
Page 20 |
Page 21 |
Page 22 |
Page 23 |
Page 24 |
Page 25 |
Page 26 |
Page 27 |
Page 28 |
Page 29 |
Page 30 |
Page 31 |
Page 32 |
Page 33 |
Page 34 |
Page 35 |
Page 36 |
Page 37 |
Page 38 |
Page 39 |
Page 40 |
Page 41 |
Page 42 |
Page 43 |
Page 44 |
Page 45 |
Page 46 |
Page 47 |
Page 48 |
Page 49 |
Page 50 |
Page 51 |
Page 52 |
Page 53 |
Page 54 |
Page 55 |
Page 56 |
Page 57 |
Page 58 |
Page 59 |
Page 60 |
Page 61 |
Page 62 |
Page 63 |
Page 64 |
Page 65 |
Page 66 |
Page 67 |
Page 68 |
Page 69 |
Page 70 |
Page 71 |
Page 72 |
Page 73 |
Page 74 |
Page 75 |
Page 76 |
Page 77 |
Page 78 |
Page 79 |
Page 80 |
Page 81 |
Page 82 |
Page 83 |
Page 84 |
Page 85 |
Page 86 |
Page 87 |
Page 88 |
Page 89 |
Page 90 |
Page 91 |
Page 92 |
Page 93 |
Page 94 |
Page 95 |
Page 96 |
Page 97 |
Page 98 |
Page 99 |
Page 100 |
Page 101 |
Page 102 |
Page 103 |
Page 104 |
Page 105 |
Page 106 |
Page 107 |
Page 108 |
Page 109 |
Page 110 |
Page 111 |
Page 112
