Impressed by Dartmoor…LITERALLY!!! – A hectic walk

If you’ve read our bio or previous posts, you’ll know we’re from the wet and windy island of Great Britain. Most of our walking takes place in the UK’s national parks – landscapes shaped as much by rain and clouds as by the trails themselves.

Camping here comes with its own challenges. In England, wild camping is technically legal only in limited parts of Dartmoor National Park, although it is often tolerated in remote mountain areas and isolated coastal areas. But the real challenge with hiking in the UK isn’t legality: it’s the weather. Rain, wind, fog and more rain. Sometimes all at the same time.

So naturally, Dartmoor seemed like the perfect place to test ourselves and our gear before our next trek through Iceland.

in the wasteland

After an early start on Saturday, we made the 3.5 hour drive to Fenworthy, arriving just before 8am. By 9, we were on the road with only a rough plan. Head towards Wistman’s Wood, visit some towers and stone circles and find a place to camp before dark. Surprisingly, time was on our side at first.

We followed the trail around Fenworthy Reservoir under a bright sky, Miranda carrying her new Gossamer Gear pack while I tried on a pair of Topo Traverse shoes for the first time. The route ascended gently, passing a waterfall and entering a pine forest, where well-maintained trails allowed us to maintain a gentle pace. More than anything, we were happy to be there. Away from work, away from the screens and back to the hills.

The unexpected gain

As soon as we reached the edge of the forest, our luck changed. In front of us was what seemed like an insurmountable wall of windfall. Huge trees tangled in all directions just as the rain began to fall. We climbed logs, crawled under branches, and picked our way through gaps as we debated the least painful route through the chaos. Slipping on wet branches and tree trunks became inevitable. Somehow, we escaped with only a few cuts and bruises. After we finally emerged from the fallen trees… only to find rain and fog descending around us, swallowing the hills above. Classic England.

Ancient stones and pouring rain

We continued on and passed the stone circles of Gray Wethers. A pair of Bronze Age circles are thought to be more than 4,000 years old. Standing there in the fog and wind, it was hard not to stop and imagine how wild this landscape must have felt thousands of years ago. From there, the route ascended with all the force of the wind. The rain intensified. Winds blew around 40 mph. Visibility dropped to almost nothing. We thought it was good preparation for Iceland.

Finding a camp in the fog

As we descended to the other side of the moor, the weather finally improved and views opened up towards Wistman’s Wood, one of Dartmoor’s most iconic landscapes. Twisted oaks clung to moss-covered rocks under drifting clouds, looking like something out of a fantasy novel. We made good progress through several eddies before descending towards the village and climbing back up through newer forest plantations in search of a campsite. This turned out to be more difficult than expected. The wasteland was covered with uneven terrain, spiky tufts of grass, and hidden rocks. As darkness and fog set in, we spent nearly an hour wandering around in the gloom looking for a remotely flat spot flat enough to launch. Finally, we found a small patch next to a rock outcropping that offered at least some shelter from the wind. Not perfect, but good enough.

First night at the Fjällräven Abisko Lite 2

This trip was our first proper test of the Fjällräven Abisko Lite 2 before Iceland. Riding it in high winds on rough terrain was… educational. We repositioned the tent several times to avoid sharp rocks while trying to keep the wind from ripping it out of our hands. Finally, we managed to tilt it and dive inside just as the rain intensified again.

The wind pounded relentlessly against the tent, flexing the fabric enough to make some deeply disturbing noises. At one point, the gusts changed direction completely and began crushing the side wall towards us. It’s safe to say that sleeping was almost impossible. I think earplugs for Iceland! I spent most of the night mentally rehearsing evacuation plans: how we would get out of the wasteland, where we could take shelter, and what we would do if the weather got even worse. At five in the morning neither of us had slept much. But the store held firm and my “evacuation plans” seemed a little silly.

The river crossing

After a quick breakfast inside the tent, we packed up and headed out into thick fog and a slightly calmer breeze. The storm was almost over. We followed a leat (a very British word for a man-made water channel) across the moor as the clouds slowly began to part. The morning brought better visibility and incredible views of Dartmoor.

Finally we resumed the previous day’s route and arrived at a small river crossing that we had barely thought about before. Except the overnight rain had completely transformed it. The stream was now a rapidly flowing torrent. We searched upstream until the ground became swampy. Downstream it looked even worse. In the end we accepted that our original crossing point was probably our best option. I went first. Using trekking poles to probe the depth, I cautiously entered the icy water. It rose quickly to my waist, even higher in places, as the current pushed hard against my legs. The rocks beneath my feet were slippery and unstable, shifting when I put my weight on them. Halfway up, the current almost completely swept my feet away. When I reached the opposite bank, I had to chest-climb toward the muddy bank while trying not to be swept downstream. Miranda crossed the same route with much more grace than me and together we dragged her and her backpack to the shore. We had crossed many rivers on the Great Divide Trail, but honestly, we had been lucky. Nothing had ever compared to this. And river crossings in Iceland are likely to be much worse.

«At least we’re not the only idiots…»

Shortly after crossing, we finally met up with other hikers. They looked soaked and exhausted, their raincoats soaked and their backpacks dripping with water even though the rain had stopped an hour earlier. “At least we’re not the only idiots camping that last night,” one of them laughed as he walked past us. Fair point!

We returned to the woods surrounding Fenworthy Reservoir, this time taking a different route through older woodland filled with pine trees, moss-covered rocks and streams running down from the hills above. The rains returned just in time for the final stretch back to the car. Naturally, when we finally left Dartmoor behind, the sun came out.

Lessons from shakedown

Trips like this are exactly why we try to get out whenever we can. It wasn’t about perfect weather or great mileage, it was about testing systems, perfecting equipment and learning lessons before Iceland.

The biggest change to our setup was moving to a true four-season shelter capable of withstanding Icelandic conditions. It’s safe to say that the Abisko Lite 2 passed its first major test. It’s definitely tighter inside than the palatial comfort of the X-Mid, but it feels incredibly robust and gives me some confidence in bad weather.

Our new pack liners kept everything dry, the switch to the Topo shoes worked well for me and Miranda’s switch to the Gossamer Gear Gorilla 50L was also a success. In short, a valuable but wet weekend. The terrible weather was probably the best preparation we could have asked for before heading to Iceland for the crossing.

This website contains affiliate links, which means The Trek may receive a percentage of any products or services you purchase using links in articles or advertisements. The buyer pays the same price they would otherwise pay, and their purchase helps support The Trek’s ongoing goal of bringing you quality backpacking information and advice. Thank you for your support!

For more information, visit the About page of this site.