THOSE brought up around the fringes of Dartmoor, and many other people beyond the area, are familiar with the song that tells the story of Old Uncle Tom Cobley and All and their ill-fated (at least for Tom Pearce’s old grey mare!) trip to Widecombe Fair.

Despite that and the fame of the Fair itself, a surprising number of local people seem never to have been to the Fair, some, at least, perhaps viewing it as something better suited for tourists to do than an obvious destination for a day out locally on the second Tuesday of every September.

Amongst that number until this year was Michael Coleman from Coleford, who went to school in Horrabridge, near Tavistock, in the days when the family car had not become the norm and most people’s knowledge of their surroundings was confined to distances that could be walked or cycled comfortably in a day.

Widecombe then was a long way off and somehow, even with the passage of time, had never drawn Michael to visit the Fair in more recent years when distances have shrunk and travel is easy.

Mentioning one day to friends, who are long-time residents of Widecombe, that he had never actually been to their famous Fair, Michael was persuaded by them that it wasn’t just staged for the benefit of tourists, but was actually a village fair like so many others all over Devon, not least in this area (Coldridge, Morchard Bishop and Tedburn St Mary all spring to mind), but one whose famous song and the spin-offs from it gave it fame (and publicity) and drew in more outsiders than the others.

With a pressing invitation from his friends to stay overnight in Widecombe, Michael determined was to go this year. However, lacking a grey mare and not wishing to drive a car to a place which is more than popular for motorists on Fair day, Michael chose what, to him as someone with a keen interest in vintage tractors, seemed the obvious means of transport. And so it was, if not a grey mare but a grey (and blue) tractor (vintage 1963).

Then there was the question of the route. Easy enough to drive straight there, but why not do what Uncle Tom Cobley did? Or, sort of. And so it came to pass that Michael left Coleford on his tractor mid-morning on the Monday before the Fair and made his way over to Spreyton from where the earliest written record has Tom Cobley and his friends setting off for Widecombe in 1802.

Sadly, or perhaps just as well as the trip may have gone no further, in 2016 the award-winning “Uncle Tom Cobley” pub is closed on a Monday. So, with just time to slow by the churchyard to nod in the direction of the Cobley grave, it was on through the lanes to Sticklepath to Finch Foundry, in the graveyard behind which is the resting place of Tom Pearce.

Thereafter, rather leaving history to one side, it was on to Widecombe itself, arriving in the gentle dampness for which Dartmoor is renowned! Being rather less than direct, it was about 30 miles from starting.

The next day was the Fair itself, which enjoyed a classic mix of sunshine, showers, one flash of lightning and a single clap of thunder, which crashed and rumbled around the beautiful valley which frames the Fair Field.

A non-stop programme of events ran from morning to well into the night, the highlight probably being the two parades of vintage tractors (well, highlight for some people, at least!).

This year though, the thoughts of many of these present were of Anthony (Tony) Beard, the “Wag from Widecombe’, known far and wide for his 34 years of broadcasts on BBC Radio Devon, his talks to clubs and events far and wide, his compering of the Fair for many years and so much more and who, sadly, died earlier this year.

These days, the Fair has spilled out beyond the Fair Field itself to the Square and the Green which were full of stalls and displays, while the village itself is traffic-free on the day with park and ride schemes in operation, making for a pleasant pedestrianised environment.

Back on the Fair Field, the programme included hill pony and sheepdog displays, hawking and dog agility events, children’s and dog races, bale tossing and tug o’ war, while cattle, sheep and produce competitions were also being judged.

In the midst of all this, a large beer, food and music tent attracted crowds through the day and evening. Presumably, with some variation due to the passage of time, it would all have been very familiar to Uncle Tom Cobley and all!

Rather than being an event laid on or perpetuated for tourists, the whole feel and focus of the day seemed, at least through the eyes of one “first-timer”, to be very much on the village community, while providing an enjoyable experience also for the visitors.

Very much recommended to those who have never made it previously (although it does help if you have friends with whom to stay in the village!).

Back home again by the trusty grey (and blue) mare (tractor!) which, unlike Tom Pearce’s actually survived the experience, the only mishap was Michael losing his cap over an impenetrable hedge while chugging along near Sandy Park.

But that was a small price to pay compared to the outcome of the song!