Circles in the mist

15.02.2025

I had changed my plans yesterday due to the bad weather and visited an exhibition at RAMM in Exeter titled ‘Dartmoor: A Radical Landscape’. It featured a number of artist photographers who had been inspired by the landscape here, including Richard Long, Alex Hartley and Nicholas J R White. The show has given me some new perspectives and enhanced my respect for this wonderful part of South West England.

I stayed overnight at Bennett’s Cross and this morning crossed the B3212 to walk a short distance for twenty minutes along Hurston Ridge to the stone row of the same name. The path bent around in an arc with glorious views of Moretonhampstead and East Devon beyond. When the stones came into view I noticed how well preserved the double row was extending down the hill some five hundred feet, with most of the stones larger than in the other rows I’d seen in the last few days. At the very end I could easily make out the terminal stone, but the cairn at the near end was not so easy to make sense of with most of the stones missing, leaving only a grassy mound. The customary blocking stone was impressive however at over six feet high. With a curving point it stood in a pool of boggy water with some of it’s packing stones exposed, and It’s granite surface had a rich variety of green and blue lichen amongst seams of quartz crystals.

It was time to move on as I was planning a much longer walk for the afternoon. I drove down the hill to Postbridge and parked at the National Parks Office. My plan was to walk north up the East Dart River to find the Grey Wethers Stone Circles. I crossed the old stone bridge on the road and took a footpath through some fields to a gate by the river where a narrow path ascended through thick gorse bushes. It was hard going from the very start and for an hour I struggled through uneven boggy ground which slowed me up. I tried walking further down by the river bank but the small mounds of tufty grass were equally as difficult to get through. So back on the path, I put up with the unavoidable scratched legs and wet feet till I emerged out onto open moorland to descend down to a tributary of the East Dart. Once over the river the path became muddy again. I passed Beehive Hut, an old circular dwelling and then forged ahead onto open firmer ground. I was two hours in and Grey Wethers was still some way off with the mist coming down. Then to the right I saw a party of hikers who it seemed would converge with my path. Grey Wethers eventually came into view and sure enough as I entred the first of the circles I was joined by the hikers. I stood and watched them continue on through the second one and stop to rest at a high wall ahead. Out of their party only one of them slowed up and showed any curiosity for what they were passing through. The wind began to get stronger and I sat behind one of the bigger stones for cover. I thought back to Stanton Drew and the stone there that had offered me protection from the horizontal rain.

After ten minutes the wind eased a little and I noticed I was now alone and able to take in the wild beauty of this site and it’s location. The two circles were very similar in diameter and it’s stones were between three and six feet in height and evenly spaced. These were the most geometrically orderly circles I had yet seen on Dartmoor, but to view them properly I needed to see them from above. Most of nearby Sittaford Hill was shrouded in mist so my only option was to send my drone up. Even though the wind had ceased a little it was still strong and the drone could only provide a few shots at low altitude. There was no evidence of a cairn there or a stone row which sets these circles apart from the other sites on Dartmoor.

I had read about another circle over the other side of Sittaford Hill. I knew it to be made up of recumbent stones and would be hard to see in the mist if it was on higher ground. I headed up the hill and climbed over a fence near the Tor at the top. My only chance of finding it was with OS co-ordinance but I wasn’t optimistic. In the dense mist I stumbled onto one of the slabs which gave me an indication where the others might be, but it was a fruitless exercise and the cold wind and low visibility was telling me to head back. I knew it would be another two hour walk if I was lucky and so reluctantly I made my way back along the western side of the East Dart.