Winter Camping on Dartmoor

Winter Camping on Dartmoor.


I was starting to have second thoughts as I followed the forest track towards the moor. Freezing skeins of rain pulsed across the sky and clattered through the branches above me. Sheltering beneath a fir tree to pull my waterproof trousers on I weighed up the pro's and con's of continuing. The plan had been to give my new tent it's first winter trial in sub zero conditions but so far, although cold, the temperature was stubbornly staying above freezing.

The weather forecast had promised high pressure, clear skies and freezing arctic air. This was starting to feel unlikely in the face of high winds and squally showers. I always review my plans in the light of changing circumstances, but tonight I decided to push on. I wasn't going far and if the weather was still bad by the time I got to my campsite I could always bail out. So I walked on and sure enough before I left the forest the sky was clearing and the moon started to lend me some light. The combination of shadow under the trees and shining moon were just too much for the i-phone camera.

By the time the moor-gate clacked shut behind me my doubts had dissolved along with the cloud and I followed the wall past the ancient circles at Grey Wethers. With the steepening hill and my heavier than normal back pack I had plenty of incentive to pause and take in the moon-washed landscape that was already starting to whiten with frost. In the distance car headlights to the east were also slower than usual as drivers picked their way down Doccombe ridge, evidently fearful of ice on the bends.

There was no time for photography when I got to the top of Sittaford Tor. The mercury was slipping further and further below freezing and I hurried about the business of setting up camp. Two extra closed cell sleeping mats had accompanied me on this trip. One to go beneath and one on top of the groundsheet. With a Self inflating mat on top of these I figured that I would be as protected from the cold ground as I could be. Next my down sleeping bag was laid out so that the feathers could expand and the bag achieve its full "loft" to maximise the insulation I would need when I bedded down for the night.

Starting to think of food I took my two water bottles down the hill to the Varricombe (a small brook that along with others forms the river Teign). Just before I got to the stream a pair of shining amber eyes and an irritated chatter told me that I'd disturbed an otter going about it's business. Its always a thrill to see these elusive creatures, even a fleeting glimpse like this.

Back up at the tent I started to settle in for the night. Condensation was already freezing on the underside of the flysheet as I cooked my tea. Dehydrated soup with a packet of croutons followed by a boil in the bag meal all washed down with a hot chocolate drink. Its tempting in these conditions to see the warmth of the stove as a benefit, but damp is the enemy when cold camping and I made sure that the hot, damp air from the stove was able to rise up through the open door. It goes without saying that great care and total concentration is needed if you are going to cook in a tent doorway.


Once fed I got straight into my sleeping bag, even though there were a few hours before I'd sleep. Winter camping is all about preserving effort and having carried,cooked and eaten the food I was determined that every calorie of warmth that I had earned was going to be used to the maximum. Eventually I turned in and pulled the hood of my bag tight around my face. The last job of the night was making sure that there was enough ventilation to prevent the inner tent icing up.

I woke a couple of times, my mustache was developing an icy extension from my breathing and was cold against my face but a change of position soon sorted that out. The effort of taking the two extra mats certainly paid off, no hint of cold from the ground troubled me at all.

Dawn found me warm and dry with a    spectacular Dartmoor day unfolding outside the tent. The ventilation had prevented any ice forming on the inner tent so I could pack at my leisure without fear of causing ice showers on my dry kit. Several brews of tea and coffee with cookies kept me warm while I soaked up the view.

Another thing that made this such a pleasant morning was that I had kept my boots in the tent with me overnight. Each one with an aluminum bottle full of hot water in it. Double whammy, boots don't freeze over night and neither does the water for the morning's brew. Forcing warm feet into frozen hard boots is not a good way to start the day!







After a bit I figured it was time to move and get on with the things on my to do list for the day.
I packed up and headed home driving gingerly on the icy lanes down to Chagford and a great breakfast at the Bird Cage Cafe. I couldn't stop thinking how lucky I was to have this on the doorstep and the ability to nip out for a micro adventure every once in a while.