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Contents : TWO MOORS WAY           Introduction   Day 1   Day 2   Day 3   Day 4   Day 5       THE TWO MOORS WAY STRETCHES ACROSS DARTMOOR AND EXMOOR     NATIONAL TRAILS GUIDES UK - DETAILED DESCRIPTIONS & GALLERIES           Day 4 :: Farms and Dogs :: Morchard Bishop to Knowstone :: 14 miles           Rejoining the Two Moors Way just beyond Morchard Bishop at the school car park the Two Moors Way crosses some fields towards Morchard Wood, just before which it veers off to the north east, skirting for a while its southern border and then crossing diagonally through its eastern fringes of tall, dark spruce until reaching a minor road.  Turning left on the road and then almost immediately right to cross fields to the top of a hill the path led along the western fringes of Belkay Copse and then down to a footbridge up into Lower Brownstone. It was noisy around here, from the incessant barking of dogs at the kennels.  From Lower Brownstone the route passed alongside an apple orchard to cross a road and then proceeded via a stile into a field and then another, which was crossed diagonally, and then over a footbridge, past a ruined farmhouse and then through a series of stiles to Cobscombe Farm and a narrow hedged lane with a central grass verge to a road which led to Lower Black Dog.               Two Moors Way at Cobscombe Farm   Two Moors Way at Lower Black Dog           At Lower Black Dog the Two Moors Way left the road via a gate into a drive containing a central grassy verge leading to Pyne Farm.  The hedgerows bordering this drive soon changed to wooden stakes and wire fencing.  As we approached Pyne Farm we crossed a ford which issued from a tranquil, silent pool to our right.  Silent, that is, save for the gentle trickle of a slight outflow of water over an even slighter weir.  Pyne farm was an attractive pink rendered thatched house with extensive ornate gardens.             Pyne Farm   Falls and Pool and Pyne Farm           After passing Pyne Farm we advanced to a field stile and crossed the field, and then another.  Direction finding was easy at this stage, as the egress from each field was clearly visible from its entrance.  Walking swiftly downhill we descended to a footbridge over a brook, in the direction of Washford Farm.  Visible to our north west was Sentrys Farm. The footbridge was little more than an encased plank of wood over a small streamlet.  Black cattle and white cattle were grazing peacefully around the  streamlet and sheep dotted the fields ahead.  From the footbridge, gazing to our left, we had a clear view along the length of the long, straight, shallow valley, far into the distance, although nothing more than grassy fields and cattle could be seen.             Footbridge between Pyne Farm and Wonham   Two Moors Way towards Wonham         Once over the footbridge we walked up the rise of the next field to a stile in the hedgerow and approached Wonham Farm, an attractive white house with adjoining farm buildings.  The Two Moors Way signs took us around the sides of the outbuildings and we left the farm by following an extremely muddy track through a gate and around a sharp bend to a number of hedged fields and stiles in the direction of Washford Wood.              View west from Wonham Bridge   Wonham Farm         On the brow of the final field we trekked downwards and into Washford Wood.  We slipped up in our direction finding adding a further ½ mile or so to our route and a further ½ hour of traveling time.  There was no obvious direction to take, save to head directly for the wood.  We could see no access point in any direction and as we approached the wood its mass barred our front and flanks.  Carol walked left along its perimeter and I walked right.  I found our access point, a not easily seen footbridge and stile enclosed within the edge of overgrown trees at the eastern end of the field.             Two Moor Way out of Wonham Farm   Towards Washford Wood         I turned around to shout Carol but could not see her, the rise of the hillside down which we had traveled blocking her from my view, for she had traveled around it in the opposite direction but she soon re-joined me, having given up her search in the opposite direction.  We crossed the footbridge and then crossed a tributary to the River Dalch, which lay just hidden in the wood not far away.             Route into Washford Wood   Footbridge and stile into Washford Wood         We walked along a narrow, earthy track through thin stands of brightly foliated birch trees, climbing steadily and passing a stand of hazel trees.  The track became increasingly muddier as it neared its emergence from the wood.  Almost as if to compensate the track broadened and we were able to find more solid ground by carefully choosing our footfalls.  Rounding a bend our muddy track turned into a grassy lane with high concave hedges.  The lane led us onto the road into Washford Pyne.  The absence of traffic on the road was unexpected but welcome and although the village was reasonable in size there was a hush in the air that was not broken for the few minutes we were there.             Two Moors Way through Washford Wood   Hazel trees each side of Two Moors Way in Washford Wood         We passed some beautiful houses and then encountered a quite uniquely designed church.  The belfry was of unusual design and was built with red brick, in contrast to the dark stone elevations of the main building.  We left the road by a wooden gate into a field behind the church.  Keeping to the left hedgerow of the field we followed it down to a muddy track, which eventually led to a wooden footbridge over a stream that spread broad and gurgled lazily along the valley bottom.             Leaving Washford Wood   Old rectory at Washford Pyne             Church at Washford Pyne   Field boundary leaving Washford Pyne           The nearside of the grassy bank adjoining the bridge was festooned with white daisies and in the trees around us passerines sang gaily in their idyllic, relaxed fashion – no cares, no worries, no inhibitions – almost entraining me to feel the same way. We now advanced in the direction of Stourton Barton.  Carol has a phobia for cattle.  They scare her to the point of hysteria.  On the far side of the footbridge our path led through the centre of a herd of very curious cows.  At first this did not register with Carol, but as the fact dawned upon her, and as she realised there was no other way to proceed, she suggested rather strongly that we return over the footbridge and discover an alternative route.  In my mind this was a ludicrous exercise.  I disagreed and Carol felt compelled to accept my decision.  I agreed to take her by the hand and lead her slowly and cautiously through the herd, who appeared intent on displaying their curiosity by nuzzling closer.  Bravely, Carol inched her way closer to the stile into the adjoining field.  Imagine her horror when she saw that huddled in a densely packed cluster around the immediate vicinity of the far side of the stile was another equally large and curious herd of cattle.  This was too much for her.  But it was too late to return.  She was trapped and had to go on.  It was agreed that I would cautiously shoo the cattle away so that she could cross the stile.  So with purposeful vim I vaulted the stile and the cattle scattered!  I then led her by the hand to the next stile and we crossed to safety, or so we thought.             Egress from field at Washford Pyne   Footbridge over the River Dalch           No sooner had we landed on the hard earth of Stourton Barton Farm than two canine warriors, one quite vicious looking, came hurtling around the corner, barking menacingly, and challenged us.  We stood our ground and stared at them.  They continued to bark.  We continued to sweat and to stare at them.  They continued to bark.  We continued to sweat.  Then for no apparent reason the dogs stopped barking and began sniffing at our shoes.  I can only imagine at the odours that must have issued from them!  We turned right at the farm and followed the drive out.  After a hundred yards or so a large pond appeared to our right – the Reservoir Pits, and on our left was a solitary goose in a field of pasture.  Lining the drive out of the farm was a thin line of saplings on our left and a wire fence on our right, with grassy fields beyond. As we neared the junction of the farm drive with the B3137 our proboses detected a most foul and unwholesome stench emanating from a large complex of silver cylindrical buildings to our right.  Quite what was causing the stench I would not like to imagine.  We were grateful to quickly pass it by and not have to return.    Crossing the road we joined a footpath which took us diagonally across a flat grassy field and directly towards Millmoor Farm which was clearly visible in the near distance.  Entering another field we took a course to the left of the farm and followed a signed route along a fence and left the field by a metal gate to join the road to Witheridge.  There was a pleasant odour of manure, the smell of which always has a profound and relaxing effect upon me.  As we left the farm we paused to appreciate the splendour of a large monkey puzzle tree, which seemed isolated in its uniqueness in this predominantly agricultural community               Woodford Farm   Leaving Woodford Farm drive           Crossing the road we followed a concrete drive opposite and walked gently uphill.  The drive in fact led to Woodford Farm.  Hedgerow birds trilled to us as we trundled along the drive.  At a sharp left bend in the drive, immediately before Woodford Farm we turned off through a gate on our right onto an earthy track running along the edge of a field.  We were now on the final approach to the town of Witheridge.               Witheridge church in the distance   Approaching the Little Dart River               Footbridge over the Little Dart River   Witheridge - Two Moors Way passes through the alleyway           The path soon developed a central green spit running its entire length, as it continued to run along the hedge boundary on our left.  We passed through a number of fields without any noticeable change in scenery.  As we entered a larger field we could observe directly ahead of us, but still some way off, Witheridge church, standing proud and lofty above the smaller buildings of the village.  We were now steered sharp left and immediately sharp right. The fields now took on a far more pleasant and pastoral outlook, helped by the undulations of the Little Dart River and the emergence of an avenue of deciduous trees near to its banks.  The river itself was very disappointing, being little more than a small stream which we crossed on a shaped wooden plank having a metal rail to its side.  On the far side of the footbridge we crossed a stile into another field, which led us gently uphill. Before us lay a field border of hedgerow and trees which would lead us to the final approach into Witheridge.  We walked quickly towards it.  Perspiration oozed from my pores as the sun unwittingly baked me dry.  At the end of the field a stile took us over an electrified fence and onto a small grassy field into Witheridge.  We crossed a final stile, taking us directly into Wrigga Way. I failed to notice the signpost pointing the way into the village centre.  I guessed to turn right.  Carol was a little more observant than I and had noticed a Two Moors Way sign pointing into a narrow alley ahead of us, between bungalows, and yanked me back. The alley continued past the bungalows and into a narrow squeeze between two cottages and we then found ourselves in the village square.  Crossing the square we turned right at the main road, by-passing the church on our left, and then took the road to Rackenford, turning left almost at once, upon passing Witheridge Parish Hall.  We passed through a double stile onto a fenced lane.               Witheridge church   Leaving Witheridge near the parish hall           We shortly came to another stile, and passing over it we were welcomed by a most comely and youthful black and white sheep dog, who left her master to greet us, and raced away once it had become bored of our petting and fussing.  We were now afforded our first view of Exmoor.  I had never been to Exmoor before and was eagerly anticipating its challenges We left the field on a railed raft of duck boarding and passed through a gate into a narrow, enclosed lane, which tapered as we followed its span, to emerge in a field.  There was no path, but we could see from our map that the path led to a field border, which we could see ahead of us in the form of a hedgerow.  We crossed diagonally to the field edge and followed the hedge part way down hill, leaving it as it turned to our right.  Yeo Copse and the Little Dart River lay directly ahead of us.  As we approached we were met with a splendid view east along the Little Dart River, in the direction of Bradford Plantation.  We would now follow the Little Dart River to the end of the Plantation.                Crossing the field diagonally   Duck boarding near Witheridge           As we entered Yeo Copse, charitable land owned by the Woodland Trust, the atmosphere changed entirely.  All of a sudden we could hear the gurgling of the river, the merry chirping of woodland birds and could feel a change in the atmosphere, almost tangible to our well honed senses.  The contrast of shade and water evaporation produced by the wood and river brought with it an air of excitement.  This was a very attractive locality to be in on such a sunny day.  One could sit in perfect solitude and enjoy the serenity of a peaceful spring day without disturbance from other humans. We ambled a little more slowly now, along a narrow earthy track  between slight grassy verges and a thick closet of trees, towards a stile where we crossed to a grassy meadow along the banks of the Little Dart River.  We realised that we had unintentionally slowed our step and  supposed that we had subconsciously desired to linger longer on this leg of our adventure.  Had we not been under a measure of anxiety to arrive timely at our rendezvous in Knowstone with Tanya we would have been sorely tempted to idle away an hour or so on the banks of the river.                Two Moors Way through Yeo Copse   Joining the Little Dart River           As we entered the meadow we crossed a small wooden footbridge over the East Dart River and immediately crossed another stile to follow a hedge boundary on our right, keeping the Little Dart on our left.  We walked towards Fiddle Copse on the flatter part of gently undulating hills, the still bare umbelliferous trees of the copse beckoning us closer.               Crossing the East Yeo River   Fiddle Copse           We passed from meadow to meadow for a while, always following the course of the Little Dart, lined on each side as it was, with a narrow slither of budding trees.  The sky continued to retain its azure glow and the sun carried on radiating down upon us, but despite the heat, the sweat and the exercise we were thoroughly enjoying ourselves, absorbing the delights of the countryside; the sounds, the smells and the views. At the end of our meadow the ground became sodden with water and cow swill, and considerably unpleasant to cross, but cross we did, to reach a wooden stile.  Crossing it we found ourselves in a different world, a world of marsh and wood.  Our path was duck-boarded over the boggiest areas.  There was an abundance of white flowering and yellow flowering marsh plants habituating the marshes, and I was constantly wary of were I was treading for fear of stepping upon their delicate blooms.               Looking back to Yeo Copse   Entering meadow below Bradford Plantation               Two Moors Way below Bradford Plantation   Bradford Plantation           Our meadow was placed below Bradford Plantation, a dark, murky, foreboding forest of conifers, lined with a thin avenue of bare broadleaves.  The river now meandered away from us, leaving a large crescent shaped marshy meadow to our left.  The cottages and mill of Bradford appeared before us, and, having quickened our pace, we made for them. We left the marshes by a wooden gate stile and then passed through a metal, wheel shaped gate to join the road to Bradford Barton.  As we turned left on the road Bradford Bridge and Bradford Mill were in front of us.  We walked downhill to Bradford Bridge, to see the Little Dart passing below us, gurgling away to the east, as we continued north.               Looking back towards Bradford Plantation   Little Dart at Bradford Bridge           After passing through the beautiful dwellings of Bradford Barton we settled upon a long, tedious trek along a minor road to Crowdale and then towards Creacombe.  The land here was mostly flat and hidden from our view by small hedgerows each side of the road, although the verges did contain an abundance of dandelions and other wild flowers.  But the only interesting part of this route was the exchange of chatter with my sister.               Road to Creacombe   Two Moors Way and Green Lane at Knowstone Outer Moor           After by-passing Creacombe we then reached the Old Toll House, where the Two Moors Way leaves the road to follow a short green lane which cuts across country along a muddy, leafy track to the road into Knowstone, and opposite to Knowstone Outer Moor.  This was considerably bleaker than the other side of the green lane. We followed the road in the direction of Knowstone, keeping the moor to our right and heading towards the A361.  Knowstone road does not actually cross the A361 until after running parallel to it for some distance, but where they first meet the Two Moors Way follows a flight of steps signed to Knowstone and leading across the main road.  This path then cuts across Knowstone Inner Moor to rejoin the Knowstone road in an area of gorse near to Side Moor forest.               Looking back along the Two Moors Way over the A361   Approaching Yeo Copse           We followed the Knowstone road until just before reaching Knowstone where the path leaves the road to cut across fields to emerge in the centre of Knowstone by its church.  Knowstone was a beautiful and quaint village.  Tanya was here for us.  We decided to take refreshment at the inn, which appeared all the more inviting because of its large open fire.  Meals were not being served however and so we departed.  At the edge of the village was a twee wooden hut used as a bottle bank. We drove to Tiverton where we found a remarkably good cafe called Up Stairs Down Stairs.  The gentleman serving us did so with such exceeding grace and pleasure that we found the meal all the more refreshing, although the food was delicious in its own right. This was a cafe we would return to again.               Knowstone   Bottle Bank at `Knowstone         Day 3 Day 5           Author - Roy McKee Copyright © Roy McKee 2006