Bulverton Hill

For anyone who has walked the paths around Sidmouth, some landmarks become familiar friends. Bulverton Hill, rising on the western side of the valley, is one such place, known best for the panoramic reward it offers after a steady climb. But how often do we consider that a place defined by its view might hold surprising ecological secrets, hidden in plain sight?

Bulverton Hill presents a puzzle. At first glance, it is a commercial timber plantation, its slopes covered in the uniform rows of conifers that signal a landscape managed for production. Yet, beneath this veneer lies a site of significant natural value, a place where rare species cling to existence and the ghost of a wilder past waits for a chance to return.

What truly lies beyond the dense rows of Douglas Fir and the famous viewpoint at the summit? The story of Bulverton Hill is one of contrasts—a tale of two woodlands, a memory of lost heathland, and a critical look at a landscape standing at an ecological crossroads.

Located on the western side of the Sid Valley near the open expanse of Muttersmoor, Bulverton Hill stands on high ground. For most visitors, its primary appeal is straightforward and undeniable: the stunning views it offers across the landscape. The effort of the ascent is paid back in full with a breathtaking perspective.

Climbing to the top of Bulverton Hill is rewarded with wonderful views down the valley, over the town, and out to sea.

This scenic viewpoint is not isolated; a network of public paths and bridleways provides access to the area, inviting walkers and riders to explore its slopes and connect with the wider countryside.

While the habitat of Bulverton Hill is officially a "mixed woodland," it is dominated by a commercial conifer plantation. This section of the hill is primarily composed of Douglas Fir and is actively managed by Tilhill Forestry on behalf of its owner, Clinton Devon Estates.

Ecologically, this type of dense, single-species plantation has a significant downside. The tightly packed conifers are considered "generally detrimental to naturally occurring species and lacking interest for naturalists" because their deep shade suppresses the growth of native flora, which in turn limits the fauna that can survive there.

But this is not the whole story. Tucked away within the commercial forest are hidden gems: valuable broadleaf areas and woods that burst into life each spring with significant populations of Bluebells and Foxgloves. These vibrant wildflowers are more than just beautiful; they are crucial indicator species, signaling that pockets of a richer, more complex woodland ecosystem persist even within a commercially managed landscape.

To truly understand Bulverton Hill, one must look back in time. Before the woodland and plantation took hold, the area was once lowland heathland. This historical context is critically important, as the East Devon Forest Plan emphasizes the strategic goal of restoring this habitat—now one of the UK’s most threatened.

This history creates a crucial management tension today. After sections of the conifer plantation are felled for timber, a decision must be made: should the land be replanted with more commercial trees, or should an effort be made to restore the native heathland? This choice presents a critical opportunity for conservation with national significance. Restoring the heath would not just bring back a lost habitat; it would expand the adjacent and internationally important East Devon Pebblebed Heaths, strengthening one of the region's most precious natural assets.

Despite its commercial use, Bulverton Hill is a refuge for important and often surprising wildlife. The broadleaf sections host vibrant displays of Bluebells and Foxgloves, but perhaps more remarkable is the presence of a diverse community of rare Waxcap fungi. Species like the Scarlet, Parrot, and Golden Waxcap emerge like jewels from the earth. These fungi are globally recognized indicators of ancient, unimproved grasslands, and their survival here points to the land’s long, undisturbed history. Their extreme sensitivity to nutrient enrichment and ground disturbance imposes critical constraints on any restoration work, demanding a delicate touch to preserve the nutrient-poor soil they depend on.

The hill also plays a critical role as an ecological corridor and a buffer zone for the wildlife on the adjacent Mutter's Moor. Priority bird species like the elusive Eurasian Nightjar benefit from this connectivity, but the potential is most profound for the Dartford Warbler. As a non-migratory resident, this tiny bird is highly vulnerable to harsh winters, and its survival depends on the shelter provided by mature, dense gorse. Restoring heathland on Bulverton Hill is therefore not just about expanding its territory, but about creating a vital overwintering refuge that could secure the future of the local population.

This restoration would also be a lifeline for the rare Silver-studded Blue butterfly, a flagship species of the Pebblebed Heaths. This butterfly is a specialist, requiring a precise mosaic of short vegetation and bare ground for basking. Its life cycle is entwined with ants in a fascinating symbiotic relationship called myrmecophily; the caterpillars secrete a sugary substance for the ants, who in return protect them from predators. Expanding their habitat onto Bulverton Hill is essential to connect isolated colonies, promote genetic exchange, and make the entire population more resilient to change. Beyond these specialists, the mixed woodland provides essential cover for mammals such as Roe Deer, Badgers, and Foxes.

Bulverton Hill is far more than just a plantation with a view. It is a landscape at a crossroads, holding precious remnants of its wild past and possessing immense potential for a biodiverse future. The decisions made here in the coming years—whether to replant the conifers or to reclaim the heath—will determine the ecological fate of this corner of the valley.

As we stand on such hills, admiring the scenery, the real question is what we choose to see. Is it only a crop of timber waiting for harvest, or is it the ghost of the heathland, with its intricate web of fungi, birds, and butterflies, waiting for its chance to return?