Secret Exmoor: The Hidden Places, Lost Ruins, and Wild Frontiers of the High Moors
One catchphrase for the modern world we live in could be: everything, everywhere. Armed with our smartphones, we can look up and learn about almost anything, no matter where we happen to be. We can see pictures or videos of the most obscure corners of the globe, regardless of how distant they are. Which, for the romantics among us, means there is rather less magic and mystery waiting to be discovered by real, non-automated, non-internet-linked humans who like exploring the world on their own two feet.
For centuries, all we had were paper maps to show what might lie around the next bend. Now, thanks to satellite navigation, that delicious concept of an “adventure into the unknown” has become an endangered species.
People like me have been partly to blame. For decades I have been writing walking features across the West Country, explaining precisely which path to follow and which stile to cross. Some readers have occasionally complained that I’ve given away too many cherished secrets. My response has always been: don’t be selfish. Why shouldn’t we share a bit of countryside joy in an increasingly crowded world?
(See our dedicated Exmoor page here)
My late journalist father, Peter Hesp, fought that exact same corner during the latter half of the last century. He loved unearthing strange, out-of-the-way places for the Somerset County Gazette - so much so that the National Park eventually collected his columns into a book called Secret Exmoor, which has long since become a collector’s piece.
Yet Dad learned early on to keep a few confidences. When he wrote about the lost Brendon Hills ghost village of Clicket in 1965—where an old couple once lived out their twilight days in a ruined mill without doors or windows rather than be parted by the workhouse—we returned the following weekend to find over a hundred people tramping up the valley. From that day on, certain lonely spots remained strictly between us.
If you are willing to pull on sturdy boots, carry a proper Ordnance Survey map, and embrace the silence, Exmoor still keeps its wild sanctuaries. Here are four corners where the crowds vanish, the modern world recedes, and the ancient spirit of the moor still reigns supreme.
1. The Clapper of Trees and the Riddle of the Forgotten Coombes
One moorland memory that didn't make Dad's book was a long, boggy hike to a circle of trees tucked so deeply into a hollow of the high moors that it seems to have sunk clean out of sight.
It is as though the place actively hides from the world, perfectly content to escape the eyes of humankind. To catch even a glimpse of this junction of little streams from afar, you would practically need to be in an aircraft. When I returned there in the pale light of a January afternoon, I felt almost like an interloper. The sun sank fast, the damp cold crept up from the moss, and we made sure to leave nothing behind save the fleeting imprint of a boot sole.
Places like this—and the moss-clad foundations of Clicket tucked deep in its steep coombe—deserve their quiet sanctity. They remind us that not every square inch of our landscape needs an information board, a tarmac car park, or a souvenir tea room. Sometimes the finest reward is simply knowing that such sanctuaries still exist, holding their peace against the rush of the centuries.
(Check out one of our most popular Exmoor walks pages here)
2. Hoar Oak Cottage: The Capital of the Middle of Nowhere
If you fancy a walk on the untamed edge of the moor, head out across the sodden plateau of West Exmoor taking in the remote, wind-swept expanse known as The Chains.
This vast tableland is home to the high-level section of the Two Moors Way—that magnificent long-distance trail wending its way south from the dramatic sea cliffs of Lynmouth, across Exmoor, through the rolling heart of Devon and over Dartmoor.
A splendid way to tackle this without retracing your steps is the classic two-car strategy:
The Route at a Glance: Leave one car at Brendon Two Gates, park the second at Prayway Head, walk west across Dure Down to Exe Head, follow the Two Moors Way north down the coombe to Hoar Oak Cottage, and climb back out over Clannon Ball to Two Gates.
(See the full Hoar Oak Walk here)
Centuries ago, travellers likely muttered a quiet prayer at Prayway Head before venturing into the treacherous, featureless bogs of The Chains.
From here, stroll west across Dure Down to Exe Head, the damp, unpretentious birthplace of the West Country’s greatest river. Here, join the Two Moors Way as it drops north into the dramatic coombe dividing Exe Plain from The Chains. It takes barely a quarter of an hour to reach this spot from the road, yet stepping down into the ravine feels like plunging into prehistoric Britain.
Further down the valley, past an ancient stone cattle keep where sheep wander like wild beasts on a miniature Serengeti, sits Hoar Oak Cottage.
Described memorably as "the capital of the Middle of Nowhere," this ruined moorland home has sheltered shepherds, weather-beaten wanderers, and centuries of local folklore. Sensitively stabilised in recent years by the National Park Authority and the Friends of Hoar Oak Cottage, its roofless stone walls, tiny fireplaces, and empty window apertures gaze out into utter, glorious solitude. From here, an invigorating pull east up over the open moor past Clannon Ball brings you safely back to Brendon Two Gates.
3. The Chapman Barrows & The Long Stone: Walking on the Roof of the World
When you need to blow away the cobwebs and lift yourself above earthly troubles, nothing compares to the high, razor-sharp ridges of Challacombe Common.
Perched on the western rim of The Chains, this elevated spur has accumulated prehistoric earthworks down the centuries like modern counties amass bypasses. Crown among them are the Chapman Barrows - an enormous alignment of eleven Bronze Age burial mounds running proudly along the spine of the ridge.
On a clear, wind-scoured day following a front of rain or hail, the vista from these mounds is staggering. All of North Devon spreads out beneath your boots, reaching right across to the granite tors of Bodmin Moor. On the horizon, you can pick out three distinct National Parks in a single sweeping glance: Dartmoor to the south, the Brecon Beacons to the north across the Bristol Channel, and the distant smudge of the Pembrokeshire Coast to the north-west.
The Negus Stone: Just south of the main barrow cluster stands a solitary modern monolith, erected by Colonel R.E. Negus in memory of his 18-year-old son Robin, who died of polio in the summer of 1932. Its poignant inscription simply reads that Robin "loved this place".
The Long Stone: East across the bog stands the sepulchral monolith known as the Long Stone, towering solitary against the skyline - an eerie sentinel that once inspired one of my Boxing Day newspaper ghost stories.
Wood Barrow & Winaway: Beyond the massive mound of Longstone Barrow, the route heads eastward to Wood Barrow, before peeling left across the wild heath of Winaway to descend the long ridge towards Shallowford and Barbrook.
Be warned: The Chains is one of the wettest uplands in Southern England. Without robust, waterproof boots and gaiters, the moor will claim its toll in sodden socks.
4. Dane’s Brook & The Twin Iron Age Castles
To see the softer, deeply sheltered side of Exmoor’s geography, drop south towards the border country a few miles west of Dulverton. Here, tucked into a wooded cleft that divides Somerset from Devon, runs Dane’s Brook.
Despite the romantic temptation to picture marauding Vikings navigating these steep hills, the name is a corruption of Dunsbrook—literally, the "stream in the hills." It tumbles along its secluded valley for eight miles before pouring into the River Barle.
This circular hike begins along the high beech-lined hedgerows of Slade Lane on East Anstey Common. Dropping through the woods at Venford, a path descends into the deep coombe to an out-of-the-way footbridge built by the Army Air Corps and military engineers.
The route tracks the wooded riverbank downstream to Castle Bridge, a picturesque single stone arch spanning the rushing water just above the Barle confluence. The name nods to two rival hillforts guarding the valley narrows:
Brewer’s Castle: Perched high on the western knoll above the junction.
Mounsey Castle: Dominating the precipitous wooded hill directly opposite.
Local folklore tells that when the giant who built the great clapper bridge at Tarr Steps was carrying rocks in his apron, his strings snapped, scattering boulders to form these two fortified heights.
Climbing past Brewer’s Castle onto the narrow spine of Hawkridge, you are treated to sweeping views across both river valleys. It is a ridge tailor-made for buzzards and red kites, which patrol the air currents ready to plunge into either valley for supper. The track skirts Great Birchcleeve Wood and loops through West Hollowcombe Wood before crossing the military bridge once more to climb out of the valley.
At barely four miles, it is an exquisite half-day ramble—just the ticket before settling in for a hearty lunch at an ancient pub in Dulverton.
Exmoor Walking Essentials
Route | Distance | Terrain | Key Highlights |
Hoar Oak & Exe Head | ~5 miles (linear) | High moorland, peat bogs, rocky coombe | Infant River Exe, ancient ruined cottage, wilderness views |
Chapman Barrows | ~4.5 miles | Open wet heath, exposed ridge | 11 Bronze Age barrows, Long Stone, panoramic 3-park vista |
Dane’s Brook Circular | 4 miles | Steep wooded valleys, river tracks | Castle Bridge, Iron Age hillforts, Hawkridge spine |
Moorland Safety Tip: Weather on the high moors can turn from crisp blue skies to blinding mist within minutes. Even on short excursions, always pack an Ordnance Survey Explorer OL9 map, an authentic baseplate compass, windproof layers, and a flask of something warm.
