Exmoor Bivvy

 

I was on Exmoor at the weekend chasing teenagers for the Duke of Edinburgh. This is always good fun and rewarding, but doesn't usually offer the chance to slip away to enjoy the walking without worrying about looking after the teams.  On one night (just like last year), however, two of us managed to slip away and bivvy overnight, prepositioned to meet our teams in the morning.

James and I walked upstream from Cloud Hill campsite, where the Silver Teams were camped (and where we had bought a couple of bottle of very nice local cider!) , aiming for the mediaeval village. The walk was magical, through ancient woodland, with spring leaves just bursting from the trees in the evening sunshine, and the river and streams babbling and gurgling as we crossed them. As we left the woods and approached the old village (now just lumps and bumps in the valley and hillside), we spotted a grassy bank by the waterside. Flat, dry, smooth and high enough above the water to be safe from flooding. Perfect.

Even better, we discovered that the recent floods had left a pile of small sticks that had dried out in the sun - perfect fuel for my new Pocket Stove, which was soon assembled, placed on a flat rock and lit (using some natural kindling that James had supplied).

As I boiled water for couscous, James fried some chorizo and we soon had  a lovely, simple, classic bivvy meal. Just to make sure we also had a boil in the bag chilli which James had brought along to try, all washed down with cider.

Darkness fell and we retreated to sleeping bags, sharing a little whisky from a small nalgene bottle.

The darkness and clear night gave us a perfect view of the night sky. I woke at about midnight and just lay there, looking at the stars through a slit in the bivvy bag, and smiling.

Dawn broke, early and cold, and we snoozed on until 0800 or so, with the frost melting on the sleeping bags. My faithful brew kit (Alpkit MytiMug, small gas stove and water bottle) was in easy reach, and the comforting whisper of the stove making the first brew of the day soon joined the song of the Willow Warbler in the tree above us.  Instant porridge with a chopped up Snickers and a couple of brews later we were ready to face the world and the DofE teams due to come up the valley.

We packed up the cold wood stove, returned the rock to the river, packed our rucksacks and checked the site.

Not a trace that we had ever been there.

A perfect night's bivvying.