Letters From The Moors - A Sister's Journey 03

It's the third day of the 110-mile trek around Dartmoor National Park. In her third letter of the series to her sister, Liz Scott reflects on the mud, the hills, and the enchanting trees and woodland. Patience remains Liz's greatest lesson on this journey. She's learning to temper her instinct for efficient organization, making room for her sister's deliberate and unhurried pace.

Transcript

Hello and welcome to the Dartmoor Way with me Liz Scott. I hope you enjoy my 110 mile journey around the outskirts of Dartmoor National Park in Devon in the UK. I walked this with my sister in 2023 and following our trek I wrote a series of letters to my sister sharing my memories and experiences. Today is day three it's Sunday August the 6th and we're walking 12 and a half miles from Ashburton to Bovee Tracy. Dear sister, This project is fun. I feel like a detective finding photographs and piecing together the day and exploring my memories. I remember the beginning of day three very clearly. We'd promised ourselves to start early. We thought this was going to be the longest and hardest day of the whole walk. We were going to climb up to Haytor, A six mile ascent. It was one of the highest parts on Dartmoor. We knew it was going to be slow and we wanted to give ourselves a lot of time. I was already slightly twitching when we pulled into Ashburton car park half an hour later than we'd planned. Then I started to wait for you as you pulled on your boots, Got your coat and your bag. It was slow. I'd been learning that there is no rushing you. You do things at your speed and I can either twitch or accept. The last two days I'd been reminded of acceptance. Today started no differently until you suddenly announced that you couldn't start walking without getting a cup of tea. My mind went from nought to sixty. What? Why didn't you get a cup of tea before we left? I estimated that the hunt for a cup of tea and the drinking of tea would add another thirty more minutes to our start time. I knew I had to find a coffee shop quickly because you were still pulling on your boots and socks and deciding on what coat to wear and how many layers to take. So I headed off into town. I went to a couple of coffee shops but they were shut. I realised it was still early for Ashburton. This was not a commuter town with busy streets of people heading to work and scooping up costas en route. This was a tourist town and it was waiting for visitors before it opened its doors. My heart started to sink. What if we couldn't find a coffee shop? I was getting more agitated at the thought of a day ticking away before we'd even left Ashburton. It was then that I remembered something that I'd heard prior to setting out. It was a recording from a non-duality teacher called Rupert Spira and he'd spoken of the power of awareness. He talked of stepping into uncomfortable feelings rather than avoiding them or pushing them away. So what's all this got to do with a hunt for a cup of tea? Well, As I remembered awareness, I started to notice that my thinking was revved up with frustration and agitation. When I stepped into this agitation, To my surprise, It no longer felt compelling or urgent. It sank back like a wave sinks into the sand. It was so refreshing. It's so hard to describe, But I felt such a difference. I went from feeling twitchy and annoyed to relaxed and returning to a gentle, Neutral, Alive-like energy, My awareness. And I knew there was nothing to say and nothing to do. And it was then that I noticed a coffee shop that was open. This was when you arrived with your reusable cup in hand and got your cup of tea. My waiting for my sister was proving to be a step on my spiritual journey. I seemed to be learning something every day. Do you remember that as we headed out of Ashburton, We went the wrong way? The map was great, But we misread it. The footpath went up through some fields that ran parallel to the road that we were on, And we walked for ten minutes before we realized our mistake. We hadn't even walked a mile, And here we were turning around and backtracking. The early start that had seemed so important an hour ago seemed a ridiculous notion. I smiled at my efforts to plan, Organize, And crack on. We were supposed to go at this stop-start speed. How did I know that? Because we were going at a stop-start speed. There was no point in fighting it. When at last we found the right way up through the fields, We eventually followed the valley of the River Ashburn. Ashburton gets its name from the River Ashburn. It's more of a stream than a river. It was a warm day, And we loved the shade of this pleasant, Wooded valley. We ambled gently uphill until we found ourselves on lanes and then splashed our way through some sticky, Muddy footpaths. We gingerly picked our way along these oozy, Squelching lanes of goo that had been churned up by yesterday's storms. It was a slow and steady pace, And I wondered how long it would take us to reach Haytor. Were we going to struggle? Would it be steep? Would we encounter slow, Slippery, Muddy paths all the way? One of the good things about going on a walk like this is that you feel utterly grateful when the going is easy. We left the mud and were soon on leafy lanes with very few cars and even fewer people. When we peered over field gates, We could see the rural landscape sweeping below us. We knew we were getting higher and higher. This was a steady climb. We followed a track that took us down to the River Lemon, Which was no more than a small stream. Crossing this stream, There was a sturdy clapper bridge. A clapper bridge is a long lump of stone that straddles a stream or river, And it used to be used in the old day for people on foot and for pack horses. It was a beautiful sight to see this clapper bridge spanning the stream in front of us. All through the day, I'd been reflecting on the inner space of awareness. I kept bringing my awareness to those feelings, And then I would dive into those feelings. When I did this, All that was left was energy. When we reached the River Lemon and I was a bit ahead of you, I felt a strong inner sensation to feel the water on my feet. Without much thinking, I took off my shoes and socks and paddled. The delicious coolness of the water was divine. The day was warm, I was hot from walking, And this seemed to soothe and caress my tired feet. I wondered if you might paddle too, But you took the clapper bridge, And whilst I put my socks and my shoes back on, You started to climb the steep path upwards. We climbed steadily up onto a Dartmoor landscape with ferns and heather and gorse. I found a slightly faster pace and overtook you. We were climbing up to Pinchiford Ball Tor. This was the steepest part of the journey, And I often turned around, Waiting for you, And drinking in the ever-increasing scene of the countryside and fields that stretched out below. I remember looking back down the hill and watching you climb. You were steady, Resilient, And tenacious, Characteristics that describe you completely in life. You don't stop, You just keep going. It was impressive. When we headed the top of the hill, We saw Haytor ahead of us, And we knew that our six-mile climb was nearly at an end. We went from being two lone walkers in a large landscape to being lost in a throng of tourists. We passed through a car park, Where children were trying to pet ponies, Vehicles were strewn untidily, And people were queuing for ice creams. This was a world of loud families, Panting dogs, And litter. Above us, Haytor was like an ant's hill, Moving and alive with people. Neither of us had the energy to climb to the top of Haytor Rock, So we both found a place to pat the granite at the base, And then veered off from the tour to the quarry. The quarry was new territory for me. Haytor, With its granite rock, Had been quarried, And the stone was used all over the world. Nowadays, The quarry is a lake, And it's very beautiful and very peaceful. I enjoyed your superior knowledge of Dartmoor. I'm assuming this knowledge must have been gleaned from numerous circular walks, Probably dragging reluctant children in tow over the years. Whereas I am drawn to repeat old favourite walks, You always search out new places to visit. It was good to go to the quarry for lunch and sit in front of the water. There weren't many people there, And we didn't stay long before heading off down the granite track of the Templar Way towards Yana Woods. I had a strange experience as we walked through the woods. There were some trees, With a track through them, And I found myself utterly absorbed and connected to these trees. It was as if I had stepped through some kind of portal to another world. I remember feeling a deep sense of peace that was seeping within me, Flowing me down, And enabling me to hear the whispers from the trees. These whispers spoke to the heart of my soul. The experience felt so real, I stopped and waited for you. Had you felt it too? When I told you it felt utterly peaceful amongst the trees and you agreed, I'm not sure you realized what exactly I was trying to say. This moment in the trees felt true. I can find no other words to describe it. We continued onwards out of the woods and down through the tracks and paths and lanes. Although we were now going downhill, We found this last part of the walk seemed to take a long time. The route took us away from Bovey Tracy and then looped back. Do you remember we kept consulting the map and grumbling? There were shortcuts we could have taken, But we stuck to the official Dartmoor way. Eventually, We were both on territory that we recognized and we walked into the estate of Park. This was a real sense of accomplishment. It had been a long day, But it had also been incredibly satisfying. We had arrived at Bovey Tracy. This was such a special day and I can still recall its specialness.