I'm definitely in hunting and shooting territory. I often spot spent shotgun cartridges on the ground and pheasants scatter away as a walk.
It's a misty morning as I cross the moors. Meeting no-one except some unusually inquisitive sheep.
I've picked up the Coleridge way and by the time I have reached the village green at Pooltown the sun has come out.
Many of the fields around Exmoor are bordered by hedge banks made of beech trees. The young stems are cut and laid sideways creating a mass of tangled branches.
I follow the Coleridge way through across fields and through patches of beech and pine woodland.
I cross a field of characteristic red soil to take me into the village of Stogumber.