Exmoor Pubs & Walks – Ten mile walk from Dry Bridge to the Staghunters at Brendon via the Doone Valley

“Lorna Doone”, a classic story which many know but few have read, is worth a fortune to the Exmoor tourist industry. It’s a pity that the novel, a beguiling mixture of “Romeo and Juliet” and “Cinderella”, with just a dash of the “Seven Samurai”, is finished by so few. The narration through the subjective consciousness of the lunkhead hero John Ridd may alienate many readers. Thousands flock each year to visit Oare church, where in the book Lorna was married, and Lorna Doone Farm, from which they can follow in the footsteps of the hero, John Ridd, and walk up through Badgworthy Wood as he would have done on his perilous way to the Doone encampment. Unlike John, they may stop at Cloud Farm on the way back and fortify themselves with a cream tea or an ice cream after their exertions.
Just to be awkward, our walk approached the “Doone Valley” from a much less popular direction, although it means that you see far more of the scenery which inspired RD Blackmore’s fictitious romance. We parked at one of the several car parks in the shadow of Shilstone Hill on the road from Simonsbath to Lynmouth. From the most southerly one, the bridleway to the Doone Valley leads away over Brendon Common until it is crossed by the path coming up from Tippacott ridge. Here we turned right and walked under Withycombe Ridge until there was a fine view down towards Hoccombe Combe, which was the valley which actually inspired Blackmore’s conception of the Doone’s “Hole in the Wall” fortress. Most people assume that the beautiful course of Badgworthy Water, which so many walk up each summer, is the Doone Valley, but in fact it’s the much wilder Hoccombe Combe.

The track led us on downwards through sheep pasture until the stream which falls through Hoccombe Combe is on one’s right, a little further on flowing into Badgworthy Water itself. The map boldly marks this spot as “Medieval Village – site of”, which every commentator agrees was the spot where Blackmore set the Doone camp. Blackmore once admitted that if he had known that the book was going to prove such a bestseller and to stir up such interest in its setting, he might have tried to stick more closely to the actual topography of the place. As it was, and as writers do, he reshaped it through his imagination into something rather different. Indeed Blackmore, who supported himself by keeping a market garden in Surrey, has become the stuff of romance himself, as he is claimed severally to have written the book in all sorts of places on the moor, from Lorna Doone Farm to the Royal Oak at Withypool. I myself may claim a tenuous connection with the great man as he started his school days at my old alma mater, King’s School, Bruton. He didn’t like it and was moved to Blundells, Tiverton.
No one should become too excited by the ruins at the foot of Hoccombe Combe. They are neither the remains of the mediaeval village, nor of an outlaw’s hideaway, but of a nineteenth century shepherd’s cottage. Knowing, however, that the shepherd and his daughter perished in the snow walking back from Simonsbath is a sobering thought when you look back up the combe on a summer’s day.

A little further on we took the path to the left which leads you down Badgworthy Water, flanked by clustering rhododendrons, and into Badgworthy Wood with its crowd of old oaks. It was easy to be cynical about this popular valley, as we passed a horde of school children plunging into the icy water and collected up some shreds of old plastic bags, but it truly is a lovely spot.

Below is how hunting artist Lionel Edwardes saw Lorna's discovery of the unconscious John Ridd by Badgworth Water.

As you emerge from the wood and approach Cloud Farm, it is particularly beautiful as the water tumbles over stone ledges and through the rocks. Even so, the next photograph had to be framed carefully to exclude a tent pitched at the bottom of the Cloud Hill camping site. What a place, however, to fall asleep, and to wake, with the sound of the river rushing by. Opposite is a memorial to Blackmore.

From Cloud Farm the bridleway took us down to the lane which leads to Malsmead and Lorna Doone Farm, home of the fictional Ridd Family. With a willing suspension of disbelief, you may ignore the fact that now it is a gift shop, even airbrush out of your mind the fat man staring at it morosely while devouring a sandwich, and see it as the Doones did when they attacked, or just enjoy the little bridge over the river.

Following the lane towards Brendon, we went through a gate and took the steep path uphill into Southern Wood, a mixture of conifers and old oaks. When the track reaches the road again, you are in a different world. The valley which leads towards Brendon looks as if it might flow with milk and honey with its flat pastures either side of the river flanked by green hills. We walked along the narrow lane until we reached the edge of Brendon village at Leeford Green, a pleasant crossroads bordered by the East Lynn river. A short walk straight ahead soon takes you to the Staghunters Inn. On the right of the road is a narrow beer garden overlooking the river, while the pub proper is on the left.

The bar entrance takes you into the “public” with its pool table. You can sit on high wooden stools at the bar here or on an old settle under a fine old photograph of the Devon & Somerset Staghounds. On the left is a bigger room, nicely furnished and with all sorts of stag hunting memorabilia, including numbers of “slots” from deer killed locally and the most magnificent stag’s head I have ever seen in a pub. There are good hunting prints on the wall to go with it.

Proper beers were Cavalier, Exmoor Ale, and Cousin Jack. Attracted by the political sentiments, we ordered Cavalier from the Clearwater Brewery at Torrington. My wife rated it very highly, appreciating its dark colour and its sharp, hoppy flavour. For a beer of 4% it certainly punches its weight, and it grew on me every pull I took. We went back for seconds. Service here is very friendly, and the beer is served spot on, just on the right side of cool. For a Tuesday, there were quite a few people eating, and there was a wide choice of mains at the £7-8 mark. More expensive but very tempting were specials of venison stew and local trout. You only had to look at the walls of the bar, or at the East Lynn river rushing past the garden, to know that the ingredients of both dishes would not have had to travel very far. A few weeks later we were to return with our son in tow, and had lunch with some superb Cotleigh Barn Owl. My wife's exotic cream cheese with red pepper salsa sandwich at £4.60 was delicious. The male of the species had two excellent granary baguettes, one sausage and onion and one bacon and brie, for a few pennies more.
We walked back to Leeford Green, and took the road to the right. The lane is a steep pull up to Cross Gate, with good views back down to Brendon and over the ridge towards the sea. When we reached the moor again, we went straight across looking for a right hand path to lead us back to Dry Bridge. Taking a line from the field edge and bank on our right, we struck out across the moor and soon fell into the track back to Dry Bridge down which we had walked some hours earlier. There was no sign of the promised bridleway, but if faint hearts just follow the obvious track, they will not go very far out of their way when they are led over to the cross above Lankcombe Ford where we had turned right earlier for Hoccombe Combe.