A hiking journal featuring an easy and quick linear hike on Dartmoor: Haytor Rocks, Saddle Tor and Rippon Tor.
The Book Nook is right up there as one of my favourite Quirky Stays so far. And with a blog (and vlog) still to come, I have made the decision to write a hiking journal linked to that stay now. I don’t know, I just felt the need to write something about Dartmoor as it’s been a while…
I left The Book Nook just after breakfast, my little cabin still warm from the wood burner and smelling faintly of the previous night’s tea. It had been a quirky stay that had settled my bones, and I certainly wasn’t ready to head straight home. Dartmoor was literally a stone’s throw away, and I could feel it tugging at me in that familiar way it does. So, I pointed the car toward Haytor, parked up at the Dartmoor National Park Visitor Centre, pulled on my layers, and set off into the cool, late‑March wind.
I’ve written before about how Dartmoor has always been a thin place for me, one of those landscapes where the veil feels lighter, where the air seems to hum with something older and deeper than weather. Even before I’d taken ten steps, I felt it again: the moor opening out, the granite rising ahead, the sense of being in the right place.
A Short Route with Big Personality
What I wanted was a short, high‑value walk before the long drive home. From the Visitor Centre, a very obvious path climbs gently toward Haytor Rocks, then sweeps across open moorland to Saddle Tor and onward to Rippon Tor. A neat out‑and‑back, about four miles all in, with roughly 777ft of ascent and enough granite to keep my hands happy. You’ll find it here on OS Maps if you need some guidance.
If you don’t fancy paying for parking, there are lay‑bys along the main road where you can tuck in for free. But starting at the Visitor Centre makes the route easy to follow, and gives back something to the National Park authority that keeps Dartmoor open to visitors.
The weather was doing that classic Dartmoor thing: cool, windy, clouds thickening on the horizon, rain threatening but not quite committing. I pulled my hood up, tightened my pack straps, and headed for Haytor Rocks.
Haytor Rocks
Haytor is one of Dartmoor’s most iconic tors, and being a Saturday morning, it had a steady trickle of groups, families and couples making their way up. It’s really no distance at all to the base of it, and then you have the choice of going around it, over a bit of it, or all the way over the top.
The granite was cold under my hands as I scrambled to the very top; a satisfying hands‑on climb that makes Dartmoor feel like a playground. The wind was sharp enough to make my eyes water, but the views were worth every gust, with moorland rolling away in soft browns and greens, clouds racing overhead, and the light shifting minute by minute.
I found a sheltered spot, unrolled my Pacmat Patch picnic blanket (buy one, truly the best sit‑mat there is), and sipped tea from my flask. As I sat there, I heard a child below exclaim, “but sheeeee’s up there – no fair!” in a tone of pure betrayal. I couldn’t help laughing. There’s something joyful about being the person perched on the very top, especially when you’ve earned it with a scramble. It’s okay, I didn’t yell “I’m the king of the castle” out loud…
The clouds were thickening on the near horizon, giving Dartmoor the dramatic backdrop it specialises in. As I sat there, I realised I wasn’t ready to head away from the particularly moody atmosphere back just yet. I got myself off the top and back to moor-level, and crossed the moor towards Saddle Tor. And as always, I found myself thinking about the stories that have always clung to this landscape.
Granite, Spirits, and Thin Places
Dartmoor is a landscape steeped in those stories. The tors themselves are said to be the work of giants, shaped by ancient hands or hurled across the moor in fits of rage. Haytor, with its towering stacks and wind‑carved edges, has long been associated with spirits – travellers once claimed to see figures moving among the rocks at dusk, flickering in and out of sight like smoke.
And then there are the piskies, Dartmoor’s mischievous sprites, known for leading walkers astray. Step off the path at the wrong moment, they say, and you might find yourself wandering in circles, unable to find your way back until the spell breaks. This is one of the stories my teacher told us on a walk in this area back in the 80s, a story that captured my imagination then and still does now. It’s the kind of folklore that fits Dartmoor perfectly: a place where weather shifts in seconds, where mist can swallow a tor whole, where the land feels animate.
I’ve always felt that Dartmoor is a thin place, somewhere the boundary between the physical and the spiritual feels porous. I’ve felt it on Yes Tor, on Great Mis Tor, on Hound Tor. Every visit leaves me with the same emotion: a strange sense of familiarity. It isn’t my home, yet walking here often feels less like discovering somewhere new and more like returning to a place I’ve always known.
And I felt it again here, walking toward Saddle Tor with the wind at my back and the granite rising ahead.
Saddle Tor and Rippon Tor
The walk from Haytor to Saddle Tor is short but lovely, a gentle sweep across open moorland with views in every direction. The wind shifted as I walked, blowing colder now, carrying the smell of damp earth and distant rain.
I clambered up Saddle Tor too; well, it was there! The granite was slick in places, the wind stronger, but the views were spectacular. Dartmoor doesn’t have mountains, but its tors feel ancient and alive, like punctuation marks in a long sentence of moorland. I stood there for a while, breathing in the cool air and watching clouds gather over Rippon Tor. Okay, one more…
Rippon Tor was a neat, satisfying end to the outward leg. The climb is gentle, the path clear, and the trig point stands proudly at the top like a beacon. I mean, I had to bag at least one trig pillar on this walk, didn’t I?!
While there was still a line of people heading to Haytor Rocks behind me, it seems not many make it over the road. When I arrived, the summit was empty except for a small group of Dartmoor ponies grazing quietly near the rocks. They lifted their heads as I approached, gave me a brief, unimpressed glance, and went back to their breakfast.
The wind was blowing a proper hoolie across the summit, and if it had been calmer I’d probably have settled in for another flask stop. The views stretched away for miles, tors fading into the distance beneath a thickening blanket of cloud. Patches of sunlight drifted across the landscape while darker skies gathered beyond, creating the kind of ever-changing scene Dartmoor does so well.
The Walk Back
Eventually, with the wind showing no signs of easing, I reluctantly turned back towards Haytor.
The route was familiar now, but no less enjoyable. Saddle Tor looked different from this angle, and Haytor gradually grew larger with every step. More walkers had appeared as the morning wore on; families picking their way over the granite, dogs racing along the paths, and groups pausing to admire the views. The moor felt busier than it had a couple of hours earlier, but no less welcoming.
The rain never quite materialised. Dartmoor spent the entire morning threatening it, clouds gathering and darkening as though preparing for a dramatic entrance, only to think better of it at the last moment.
By the time I reached the car I was windswept, cold-cheeked and thoroughly content.
Dartmoor always does this to me. I arrive hoping for a walk and leave having found something more difficult to define. There is a sense of familiarity here that I can’t quite explain. It isn’t home, and yet every time I stand among Dartmoor’s granite tors, it feels a little like coming back to somewhere I belong.
For a walk of barely four miles, it had delivered an impressive amount: scrambling, tors, wide-open views, Dartmoor ponies, a trig pillar, folklore, and that unmistakable feeling of being somewhere special. If you’re short on time, if the weather window is small, or if you’re introducing someone to Dartmoor for the first time, this is a great option.
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