Clifton College Website

Previous Ten Tors Trips

Ten Tors Final Training: April 25th-26th 2009

This weekend, our final training, would teach the six of us, Jack Keen, Jonnie Graham, James Webb, Tom Greenslade, Georgina Beswick and me many crucial lessons if we were to complete the event just two weeks away from us.

The day started with an early start to drive down to Dartmoor from Mr and Mrs Scaife’s house, so all of us were pretty tired to begin with but the closer we got the anticipation built up and we were ready. We arrived and the packs went on and the brief was done in a matter of minutes. The adrenaline kicked in as we looked at the bottom of the huge Tors in front of us and the cold weather crept up our spines, but that didn’t get us down and before long, we were taking our first steps into the barren landscape of Dartmoor.

The day started well with a good pace and navigation was top notch. We arrived at the first stream crossing and very incautiously I happened to step on a very slippery stone which caused me to slip and smash my head into the rocks around me. The fall had left me shaken and sore but I carried on with the aid of the team helping me to my feet and got my footing right this time. The stream was at the bottom of a steep spur which we prejudged when doing our route planning, however it wasn’t a problem for any of us and we quite happily climbed over it into the marsh above. The terrain was irritating and energy consuming but we had to get used to it because we knew we’d be seeing a lot of it. Then my time to shine came again and a river stood in our way so we plodded down the spur towards it, and the bridge that was on the map seemed to be nothing more than a small dam with water pouring over the top. So, this time more cautiously, we began to cross the river. Once again my route was the one that didn’t work but instead of finding a different route I threw my rucksack onto the bank which then slid down into the river and put me off balance giving me the only option, to jump. My mistakes in the first hour of our 35 mile journey, which could’ve been avoided, would slow me down for the rest of the trek.

As we made our way to our third Tor the marsh on top of the ridge was saturated to its limits in places and we really had to work hard to fight through it, as well as the heavy hail that was falling almost horizontally onto our cold faces. We reached the third Tor and the hail changed to rain as we started our decent down to the low ground. The weather soon cleared up for a while and the sun came out, drying the soaking clothes. Our route to the fourth Tor was a long steady climb and the weather was changing from rain and hail, to clear sky minute by the minute. No problems occurred until we began our route to the seventh Tor. We took an early turn onto a different Tor due to a lack of information on our route card. This meant that our next bearing took us to an unknown Tor and we soon realised that we were lost. With a call to Mr Scaife, we were sent off the moors and to a small town nearby. Our position was given and we realised how badly we had messed up. We made our way to the final Tor of the day which was an easy route along a road but then turned into a cross country climb to our camp site. We chose a place to set up camp and we began to put the tents up and get the cookers lit, which really lifted our morale. Finally our aching bodies could rest and our stomachs get filled with a hot meal. We settled down to sleep at around half past nine and slept all the way through the night.

The following morning we woke up with the evil thought of getting back to the finish line. We packed the tents and again lit the cookers. The night had brought a heavy fog that sat on top of our camp and we realised it wouldn’t shift any time soon. This meant that Mr Scaife needed an exact grid reference to where we were because he obviously couldn’t see us. We failed to do that as well so he and the Marshal were wondering around trying to find us for a good fifty minutes. With an hour lost we were already behind schedule which didn’t help at all. A few words were said about the carelessness of the previous day and we were sure that we wouldn’t go wrong today. However, we were wrong. We set off down to the valley to cross the river and start climbing to the ninth Tor. The day started well but the heavy rain meant the rivers were flooded so it cost us lots of time to cross. The vegetation in one area slowed us down and Jack pulled his calf muscle slowing the pace down even more. One of the rivers was flooded pretty badly and it took us half an hour to cross. Reaching the ninth Tor we made a real effort to get to the tenth and we did but the route we took made our route an extra few kilometres long. We went to the tenth via a Tor that was east of our plotted route. By the time we arrived at the tenth, the journey to the finish was too far for us to fit into the time that we had, so we had to meet with the staff at a car park. We headed West and climbed over another Tor and the thick bush and hot sun started to really get to us. Arriving at the car park we were mentally drained, we had let not only ourselves down but the staff and our other friends who weren’t chosen.

Dartmoor had beaten us because we had underestimated it, teaching us many valuable lessons that we would never forget. When the event comes, we will prove to Mr Scaife that he has chosen the right team.

Jamie O’Connor S.H.

Ten Tors Training Weekend – Dartmoor 21-22 March 2009

This weekend's training really started last Tuesday after games. The squad had a full kit inspection, they were then spilt into 2 groups and spent 1½ hours route planning and repacking. It became obvious after a cursory glance at the first days route card there would be a few problems, namely the lack of detail and what would turn out to be some major bearing errors.

We duly departed College a little after 8am and arrived at Okehampton Camp about an hour behind schedule, after minor delays. The weather was to be hot, sunny and with very little cloud, which is exactly what we got (probably a bit too hot). The plan was to criss-cross the Northern Moor over 36 hours which would include a rough camp. After a short tour and brief covering the key areas on camp we arrived at Anthony's Stile, the start and finish point of the actual event. Lead navigator called out the necessary data, which had been worked out earlier in the week, only to find that we could be heading totally in the wrong direction, this would come up again many times during the day.

With such fine weather it should have been very easy for intrepid ten torers to identify key features on the ground, no! Judging distance seemed to be the main problem and, due to having a weekend off, they had also forgotten some of the basic navigation techniques. We eventually left the safety of the tracks and headed into Dartmoor bog country, some of us got a closer inspection of the bogs than we had planned. Progress seemed to be on and off, on certain legs they would be flying along but on others they were well off the pace. The end result was that we ran out of time before last light and the route had to be shortened.

New campsite sorted, quick brief and it was tents up and food on. The great thing about being in the middle of nowhere at this time of year is that it is dark by 7.30pm, so an early night was had by all.

Day 2 dawned, oh my god it's early (5.00am). Cookers on, strike camp and be ready to go at 6.00am. As in previous years, staff ready, students not – but we did get underway 20 minutes later. We made good time to Hangingstone Hill, not another sole around. Quick brief to the troops that we would meet them at the last checkpoint but to call us on the radio from their penultimate tor, and that we would be able to see them, so no fibbing.

Approximately an hour later the radio crackles into life, Henrietta has twisted her ankle! We have strapped it up but are behind schedule. I requested their current location and hatched a new plan, come direct to us at the last Tor. Even with Henri’s painful ankle they made good time and we duly headed back to camp.

This was the first time that the squad had walked on consecutive days and camped rough, lots of valuable lessons have been learned, especially when it comes to route planning.

Back at College all students were interviewed individually. They were asked how they thought the weekend had gone, who did they think should be in the actual team and finally, they had 60 seconds to state their own case on why they should be in the team.

It was interesting to see what the squad came up with as the best team for the event, it was the same as I would have chosen. It’s good to see that they are aware of each other’s strengths and weaknesses.

Read a pupil account of this trip

28th February – 1st March 2009

The students arrived late Saturday evening due to far off games commitments so time was tight to say the least. A quick safety brief was followed by tents up and food on. The late evening session covered the contents of the compulsory 2 first aid kits and how to deal with emergencies. Time check 22.45, BED.

The weather forecast, according to the Met Office, was: Cloud base 500ft, possible snow showers on the summits turning to rain at lower levels with reduced visibility. How wrong they were, it was red hot – in fact too hot – and you could easily see 20km on the summits. The squad had its first introduction to Craig y Fan Ddu, ominously renamed as “The Hill” by previous ten torers; a back breaking ascent even for the seasoned walker. Once on the summit the visibility was excellent but not many wanted to look across towards Pen y Fan looming in the distance. They were all too aware that should they get through this weekend they would be walking to it and back again on the next training session.

The annual pilgrimage to the Canadian war memorial was taken in followed by the long bum slide down a very steep escarpment; little did they know that the merriment would be short lived.

Now in the valley bottom we headed to a washed out bridge for a brief on the all important river crossing drills. Last hurdle was a 200m ascent up the other side of the valley so that we could get back to Dyffryn, the quietest ascent I have heard in a long time.

The total distance for the day was a comfortable 18.3km. Overall a good weekend only marred by the weather.

The funniest comment I have ever heard came from one WT pupil during her interview. When asked how she felt the weekend went for her personally, she replied that it was nice!

I have never heard anybody call Ten Tors training nice, made me chuckle all the way home.

Read the pupil accounts of the trip.

© 2006-12 Clifton College