Storyteller: The long walk to Fur Tor

This is the remotest outcrop of rocks on Dartmoor, positioned in the heart of the northern wilderness, on the edge of an army range.
I personally have made this trip several times before, but the last couple of times I’ve attempted it with my group, things haven’t quite gone to plan.
I always aim to go midsummer, when the ground is likely to be firmer underfoot, and with more daylight hours.
However, there are some people who like to undertake the challenge on New Year’s Day, but so far I’ve not been brave enough to try that.
One time we started off OK, but the unevenness of the terrain, and the scorching sun, soon started to take its toll on my fellow walkers, only managing to get as far as Cut Hill, with Fur Tor in sight along the ridge.
Sadly, we turned back without completing our mission, but getting to Cut Hill is still a great achievement, being one of the highest points on Dartmoor, one that doesn’t boast a rocky tor on its summit, just a pile of small rocks.
The other failed attempt was the following summer, when I was planning on taking a different route, starting out from Fernworthy Forest. We hadn’t even parked our cars up, when the heavens opened, so this mission was rained off from the start.
This year, a few since that last effort, was going to be the one, a case of third time lucky, especially for those who had never been there before.
Parking up outside the East Dart Inn, we crossed the bridge by the Postbridge clapper, heading towards the well-worn track behind the visitors centre in the car park. This took us to a gate that lets you into the newtake that leads all the way up to the open moor at Broad Down.
As we approached the upper gate, the ominous clouds, that loomed over the start of our route, finally unloaded on us, giving us a bit of a soaking, which, in hindsight, probably set us up nicely for the heat of the rest of the day, but we were already committed to the walk.
The rain lasted as we crossed Broad Down, went towards the East Dart, and as we deviated towards the small outcrop, with its own range pole, known as Flat Tor. By the time we reached it to take a breather, it had eased off and didn’t really bother us for the rest of the day.
From this vantage point you can pick out the rocky dome of Longaford Tor, which sits on the ridge above Wistman’s Wood, and the ship-like silhouette of Rough Tor, with its army hut and flagpole.
A short distance below the tor, we could see a large pool of water, known as Flat Tor Pool. When we came across this, on our very first trek to Fur Tor, we were most surprised to find a garden gnome, complete with fishing rod, attached to a rock, minding his own business.
I was so enamoured by this, that I got my friend to strike a similar pose beside him, so I could take their picture. Sadly, upon subsequent visits, we’ve found him missing, which begs the question was he stolen, meaning someone had to carry a concrete object all the way back to civilisation, or was he just thrown into the pool, where he still resides to this day? We might never know.
From Flat Tor, we had to pick our way through tussocky long grass, and over dried up boggy ground, until we reached what is known as the North West Passage, a corridor marking a safe route through the peat hags that cover the slopes of Cut Hill.
The route is marked by Peat Pass Markers, commemorating a Frank Phillpotts, whose idea it was to have the local Moormen dig the safest paths through the bogs and peat hags, which are still very much used today.
Reaching the top of Cut Hill, we were met by a small stack of stones that mark the summit. These must have been here for many years, for they are mentioned in the clue book for one of the letterboxes I was after.
The plateau at the top is like a little oasis amid the large peat hags that encircle it. Contained in this area are several large, recumbent, flat slabs, that once formed an impressive stone row crossing this special landscape.
One of which has the word 'JEW' carved into it. No one knows why or by whom, but a few ideas spring to mind. Maybe one of the local tin miners, or peat gatherers, was Jewish and this was his way of identifying himself, or, more prosaically, it has something to do with the word Dewer, obviously misspelt by an uneducated hand, which means Devil. Maybe there is some folkloric connection between Cut Hill and the Devil, that has been lost over time, or maybe it’s just because it was devilishly hard to reach...
Finally, having found the stone, and some associated letterboxes, it was time to make the final approach to Fur Tor itself, via a well worn track that links the two high points, and gives the most stunning views. At last we were standing at the centre of the north moor, looking outwards at all the tors from which you can only imagine its majesty.
While there, I found the official Fur Tor letterbox, with visitors book, that all four of us intrepid adventurers signed, giving me a respectable total of nine boxes for the day!
The only downside to making this trip, is that you have to go back, unless, like the two gentlemen we met by the main outcrop, you bring a tent and are prepared to bed down for the night, but go back we did. Fortunately, our companion, Colin, knew a different route, which cut out some of the trickier bits from our journey there, and was basically a well-worn track following the line of range poles all the way down Cut Hill to the right hand bank of the East Dart, above Sandy Hole Pass, to pick up the same track we had used on our visit to East Dart Falls last month.
A much better route to access that part of the moor, one which I will use again in future.
As we made our way back over Broad Down, pursued by an oncoming sunset, we all agreed it was well worth the effort, and, despite the soaking at the beginning, it had been a truly memorable day.