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Bowerman’s Nose

This enigmatic rock pile has been described as man-made, a granite rock idol, and a petrified human. In the context of these pages it is a petrified human called Bowerman. Back in the Norman days there is truly a record of a ‘Bowerman’ living in the area and as the name denotes a ‘bowman’ or ‘archer’ in can be deduced that he was a hunter. So whilst out hunting one day his hounds soon found a hare and set off in pursuit. The chase became fast and furious and its route took them full pelt across the clitters. As the dogs rounded a huge outcrop they ran straight into a coven of witches who were busy concocting spells and other mischief. The lead dog ran head long into the obligatory cauldron and spilt its contents on the ground. Bats tongues and frogs eyes flew in every direction. Naturally the old crones were none to pleased and decided retribution must follow. So the next time Bowerman went hunting one of the witches turned herself into a hare and soon had the hounds chasing her. She led the hunt into a mire and poor Bowerman fell off his horse straight into a deep ‘Dartmoor Stable’ . Not satisfied with that the vengeful old hag then turned him and his dogs into stone and to this day they can be seen insitu . The huge outcrop which bears his name has a unmistakable resemblance to a human head, well after a few ciders it does.

Should you fancy having a ‘nose’ at Bowerman he can be found a grid reference SX 7414 8047

Vixiana the Witch

Vixiana was the ugliest and most evil of Dartmoor witches. She lived near a huge granite tor beside the Tavistock road. Nearby was a treacherous mire that was as deep as it was wide. Her favourite trick was to conjure up a thick rolling mist that would envelop any passing traveller. Then with further magic she would lure them into the mire to a slow and gruesome death, all the while she would admire her handy work from on top of the tor. By and by the local moor folk became well jacked off with this and decided it was time for action. Amongst their numbers was a young lad who had once helped some pixies and in return was given a magical ring. The ring had the power to make him invisible. So the task of de-witching the moor was squarely laid on his shoulders. Having plucked up the courage with the aid of a few ciders he ventured out onto the road which took him past the old hags lair. It was not long before she spotted him and sent her rolling mist to enshroud him. As the swirling gloom danced all around him he put on his magic ring and became one with the mist. Gingerly he made his way around the edge of the mire until he was at the base of the witches outcrop. Silently he climbed the face of the rock and reached the summit where he saw Vixiana peering out into the mist, desperately trying to locate her victim. With the stealth of a S.A.S. trooper he crept up behind her and gave the old crone a mighty push which sent her hurtling over the edge of the tor and into the deep mud of the mire where like all her previous victims she was sucked into eternity.