South Dartmoor Section's first excursion into Dorset got off to a wet and miserable start. The rain, which was falling even as we arrived at Newton Abbot station, lashed the side of the train all the way to Axminster. As we disembarked at 1145 the prospect of a dry afternoon appeared remote to say the least.

Our worst fears were realised. Having consumed our lunch under the frontage of an Axminster supermarket we settled into the only cafe for a prolonged refreshment stop. When we could stay there no longer we browsed through the shops. There was some amusement here: we watched in amazement as Phillip Harler purchased a £3.50 Dandy Annual in the newsagents and then asked Mark Moxham to carry it for the rest of the weekend. Even more amusing was the fact that Mark agreed!

Decision time had, unfortunately, arrived. We needed to allow 3½ hours for the 18-mile journey to Litton Cheney. The rain was forecast to stop during the afternoon, but at 1330 we could wait no longer. Steven and Mark, who knew the way without checking the map, set off when no-one was looking, and the rest of us spent the next twenty minutes riding around Axminster trying to second guess where they might have gone. When we finally found the right road we were nicely wetted. The weekend was not looking promising!

We didn't find Mark and Steven until we had climbed an interestingly steep hill to the B3165, followed the latter along the ridge and descended into Marshwood. Fortunately we had agreed a route on the train, and this was the spot where they felt sure they would meet us.

The lane route through Broadoak to Bradpole was, thankfully, mainly flat or downhill. Progress was hindered only by the presence of some unusually deep and wide lakes on the road, but as we were already wet these just presented opportunities for entertainment - provided mainly by the mountain bikers of course. Neil wasn't quiet so amused when his "puncture-resistant" tyre went flat after riding through the lake near Shave Cross.  Neither was Michael, as he had to repair it! An elderly gentleman looked on as the repair proceeded, and finally suggested an alternative route which would avoid the lake. Michael thanked him kindly, informing him that his advice was a little too late.

Steven got the next puncture, near Bradpole, but decided it was slow enough to pump. However, after passing the pretty village of Loders and the strange fortress ridges of Uploders, Mark Moxham picked up two punctures at once - a large piece of flint and a thorn - just when we didn't need them.

Darkness fell as repairs were effected. Taking the level, southern route to the hostel through Shipton Gorge we proceeded at maximum warp. And just as we arrived, the rain finally stopped! Still, we didn't mind. We were wet through, but the thought of a warm, dry hostel, hot showers, comfortable beds and good meals had kept us going.

We were about to be disappointed. The dormitories were cramped, cold and poorly lit (just two dim bulbs, the light of which didn't extend far beyond the bunks immediately beneath them). There was no hot water in the taps or showers. The toilets were in a shed across the back yard. And to complete the disillusionment, the bike shed was full of building materials so our precious machines had to spend the night under the stars (or rather, clouds). This was a very basic hostel. On the positive side, there was some warmth in the common room:  two pieces of glowing coal were huddled together in the open fireplace. Unfortunately, there was already a crowd of hostellers around the fire, so even this luxury was denied to us.

Once we were in dry clothes things began to look a little better. There was a good drying room, even if it was a little on the small side.  Many of us spent happy periods in this little room, just enjoying the luxury of warmth. And the meals were home made and first rate, with as many helpings as you needed. The rest of the evening was spent playing table football, monopoly and Philip's role-playing adventure game, book-style. Simple hostels nearly always have the best atmosphere (and this one is no exception), but we'd recommend Litton Cheney for summer visits only.

Next morning was bright and sunny as forecast, although the sky looked a bit watery. We could now see that the hostel (which was originally a dutch barn and later a cheese and milk factory) was located in a delightful setting, just outside the equally delightful village of Litton Cheney.

We made the most of the conditions by setting off early, as we were expecting further rain by late morning.  The easy lanes brought us to Burton Bradstock and West Bay, where we stopped briefly to buy refreshments. We then skirted Bridport, tackled the big hill out of Chideock and eventually reached our planned lunch spot - the coastal track high between Morcombelake and Charmouth.  Here there was plenty of grassy space for the younger members to practice jumps and other stunts.

Following the steep descent to Charmouth it was Simon's turn for a puncture. Eventually we set off again through the pretty lanes near Wootton Fitzpaine, hoping that the additional delay wouldn't result in us getting wet again.  Today, however, the forecast was wrong in our favour.  We even had time to fix Steven's puncture whilst waiting for Simon's gang to return (they had gone past the selected turning). We had a 1½ hour wait at Axminster station for the train, but at least we didn't get wet again.

And so, the end of an interesting weekend. Some people don't like the idea of winter hostelling, but it can certainly be an adventure.

While Michael and associated members were exploring the Dorset wilderness, a rather depleted number of members (2) set forth from Buckfastleigh towards Torbryan via the notorious Green Lane, Landscove, Halswell and Broadhempston.

From Avonwick we took the muddy lane past Cannamore Farm.  Luke Hatherly, who had just been informed that it was now unfashionable for mountain bikers to be seen with a "skunk stripe" during the winter months, remained undeterred:  he rode through all the mud he could find and refused to accept that mudguards could serve him any useful purpose. 

Plans to continue directly to Hillhead Cross had to be revised when a number of impetuous youngsters missed the right turn.  They didn't stop until they had descended the long hill to Ugborough, so the rest thought it would probably be quicker to change the route.  There was an extra hill to climb, but on the whole the detour added variety to the ride. 

There was a further delay at Ivybridge when the majority accepted Martin Hills' offer to buy refreshments at his family's video shop in the town.  Eventually, however, we returned to the Harford road to commence the long climb past Stowford House:  everyone wanted lunch, of course, so the effort wasn't given without complaint. 

Lukesland is a large house which afforded few opportunities for such a large group to enjoy lunch.  The Twydell family had joined us in their van and suggested that Harford was the most suitable spot.  A mile or two later we were settled on the grass outside Harford church, relaxing in the warmth of the sun and enjoying the peaceful setting.  This really was a perfect spot for lunch. 

From Harford a lane leads up to a small car park on the open moor, and this is where Ken, Julie and family had settled for lunch.  We quickly joined them, and spent an enjoyable half an hour riding around with the youngsters on their BMX bikes, and enjoying Julie's delicious hot chocolate, served from their VW camper van.  There was time for a few repairs before we set off once again towards Hangershell Rock, across the open moor. 

The moor wasn't quite as open as we had remembered.  Michael was delayed with some repairs, and when he had ascended the first ridge he was met with the sight of numerous cyclists picking their way across a bog.  He remembered that the stream started from a spring a little distance to the north east and, judging that they were by now all wet, took his single charge around the dry route.  Dave Humphreys moaned "like a big girl's blouse" because his cycling shoes, being riddled with holes, had let all the water in.  He pointed to his brown socks, which could be seen through the holes, and stated that they had been white when he left home.  Someone mentioned that the holes would at least assist the drying process, but he was not amused. 

When Andrew's puncture had been fixed, courtesy of Stephen Larkin who loaned him a tube, there was yet another delay when Martin Hills led half the group too far along the track - partly due to unclear directions from Michael, it must be said.  Having recalled them to Spurrells Cross we set about the descent to Owley, which nearly everyone found great fun.  There were some obstacles to avoid, however, in the form of rocks:  Dave reckoned they were cruising around under the bracken looking for cyclists to dismount. 

We trusted the weather forecast when it promised light showers of drizzle giving way to a dry afternoon, with heavy rain following by early evening.  What a mistake that turned out to be.  We had got distinctly damp by the time we reached Bovey Tracey.  The usual track to Lustleigh provided plenty of amusement (although some were sure it was uphill), and eventually we arrived at the Primrose cafe, which had opened the previous day after the customary Christmas break.  Surprisingly there was space for all of us.

As we left we were reasonably confident of finding that the first sunny periods would be evident.  Instead we were dismayed to see that the drizzle had changed to steady, driving rain, whipped up by the strengthening winds.  Dave Robinson tried a nearby friend to see if we could lunch in his garage, but sadly he was out.  Michael then had the bright idea of asking the cafe proprietor about hiring the village hall for an hour.  After a few telephone calls we were given the go-ahead - and the keys - and everyone bundled into the hall with considerable relief.  It wasn't over-warm, but nobody minded that.  The cost was 25p each.

This was certainly an eventful ride.  First off, Elliot collected three punctures all at once within ten minutes of leaving Buckfastleigh.  And as Michael repaired them, one of the early showers did its best to drench them both.  All this made us late at Totnes, but at least the showers stopped as we arrived.  When we had chatted with Eugene at the Plains we set off up the High Street, deciding for once to go outwards via Bow Bridge and Tuckenhay - even to the extent of climbing Corky, which didn't amuse Paul HW.  Lunch was taken at the top in a stiff and cold wind, whereupon Paul commenced selling his chocolate bars.

Continuing the climb, the next incident was Luke Hatherly's explosive puncture, caused by a split in his Farmer John tyre's sidewall.  To make matters worse, he didn't have a spare tube!  There was consequently a slight delay while the puncture and tyre were repaired, and then again while Luke went back in search of a metal dust cap which apparently had sentimental value. 

Next stop was the Forces Cross cafe - which for once was closed.  We weren't too disappointed as we had recently had lunch, so we then continued through to Blackawton.  Here there were more problems, as Stephen Larkin collected another puncture near the church.  This was quickly repaired with some assistance from Paul, but he then got another one along the track to Millcombe, this time in the rear wheel.  What fun we have in the CTC!

There are some delightful lanes alongside the river Gara, but eventually one has to climb up to the main road again.  This took a while, but we were soon speeding towards Moreleigh, on course for a reasonable return time (having decided to skip Topsham Bridge in view of the delays).

It was at Moreleigh that both Elliot and Alan Skinner, both under eleven and both without cycling proficiency training, failed to look or signal on a tricky right-turn manoeuvre.  Elliot narrowly missed one vehicle, Alan was hit by another.  Fortunately he was unharmed: the car was travelling slowly on the corner and only caught Alan's rear wheel.  His pedal crank was bent so as to make the bike unrideable, however, so his father was called to collect him.  Michael stayed with him while the rest continued homewards in the capable hands of the two Daves.

This is one of the most serious incidents in the Section's history, even though there were no injuries.  One of the boys could easily have been seriously injured.  We are reminded of the fact that no matter what precautions are taken by the club, a cyclist can still be seriously injured if he or she makes a mistake.

Parents can feel more confident in their child's safety if they have taken part in a cycling proficiency scheme, but this training is only the first step, and does not mean a child is safe on the road: they feel safe, but have not had sufficient practice to guarantee their safety in all circumstances.  Many later forget the procedures they have learned, and look or signal only when they feel it necessary, relying on sound to tell them if a car is coming.

Despite the large quantities of mud and debris on the roads (in the wake of the recent storms), Marldon and Newton Abbot contingents met at Coffinswell church as planned.  Newsletters, brought out by Martin Luke, were duly distributed by Sir Kenneth, but that was the last duty he performed on the ride.  A few minutes later, after climbing the steep hill through Daccombe, his hub spindle broke and he had to retire from the ride.

We were fortunate enough to have Martin Hills' video suite available as the venue for our viewing of the pilot episode of Star Trek - The Next Generation, entitled "Encounter at Farpoint".  This high quality science fiction series, which will begin showing on BBC television later this year, has just started its third season in the States, so members have at least another 77 episodes to look forward to. 

Making the most of the weather we rode from Bickington to Cold East Cross, enjoying a delightful lunch beside the river near Pudsham Down.  Continuing through Cockingford and Ponsworthy (where David, Jamie, Phillip and others demonstrated their ATB skills over some steep humps) we were soon at Dartmeet.  Sadly the cafe was closed, but we thoroughly enjoyed the walk up to Pixie's cave - especially the boggy section in the field!

The return to Buckfastleigh via Hexworthy didn't impress Eliot ("Too many hills"), but the rest of us enjoyed it.  Phillip kept complaining that he was hungry and had no food left, but he refused everything he was offered on the grounds that he didn't like it!  Some said he couldn't have been very hungry!  Joseph's puncture near Hawson Court delayed us because he didn't have the right size of spare tube, but when everyone finally got home there were refreshments at Crofters.

We were soon speeding through the lanes via Westerland to the Blagdon road and thence over the Totnes road and on towards Stoke Gabriel.  Ken had broken the habits of a lifetime and actually prepared a route!  This was meant to run parallel with the main Stoke Gabriel road through a track - despite Gary's protestations that it might get his bike dirty!  In the event we shot past the Long Lane turnoff (was Gary leading at that point?) and stayed on the roads. 

After Galmpton we had a delightful LEVEL ride along Buscombe Lane and then on down into Brixham.  From there we took the coast road to Berry Head where a few enthusiasts cycled right down to the bottom of the cliffs whilst most of us shivered in the high winds. 

We took the usual route through Totnes, up Parliament Hill and into Galmpton.  Arriving at the hostel we met Ken's enormous family and five members of Plymouth Section.  The wardens kindly allowed us to play our usual noisy and energetic game of Crazy Post, and we showed our appreciation by contenting ourselves with board and table games for the remainder of the evening.

Good weather returned next morning.  The YHA benevelant fund / Twydell family made their way back home via Galmpton.  Although only three vehicles in the party they managed to get seriously separated.  Paul was rushing on ahead, Dad not paying attention and poor Ben lost sight of the others.  When he passed a side road and was not sure what way they had gone he sensibly stayed put, slightly tearfully, until the others, having stopped for refreshment, decided to go back.  Ken thought Ben behaved very well. 

Meanwhile the main group set off through the lanes to Kingswear, enjoying some good views of Dartmouth and the Royal Naval College along the way.  There was some confusion over the choice of ferry, but eventually the passenger ferry was selected on the basis of the extra discount offered (some still watched the vehicle ferry enviously, thinking that it looked more fun). 

After a visit to the Spinning Wheel cafe we investigated the closed coastal road near Stoke Flemming (having been advised by Kevin that it was ridaeble).  The storm damage was particularly evident from the beach: the familiar cafe and its associated buildings had completely disappeared, and a large section of the cliff had fallen away beneath the road.  Toby, Neil and others got wet feet of course.

Today's route took us through Totnes, Harbertonford, Moreleigh, Slapton (a change of plan, because we didn't make it there last week), Strete, and Tuckenhay.  Dave Humphreys' made a startling revelation during the morning session:  "My one ambition in life is to get Budgie's bike dirty!"   It's just as well Budgie wasn't there today! 

We witnessed a car crash on the Slapton Road.  A car stopped around a corner, and a following car didn't.  There were some unpleasant words exchanged between the male drivers while the respective females remained seated, looking slightly embarassed! 

This was the warmest March weekend for more than 20 years - we were even warmer than the Mediteranean!   It was somewhat annoying, therefore, that all the popular cafes should be closed - there was a bloke painting the outside of the Torcross cafe, apparently oblivious to the lost trade!   Some of us made do with treacle puddings from the local Inn and later regretted eating them! 

Eliot and Alan performed very well indeed, especially during the morning session when they were to be seen powering up the steep hills, sometimes ahead of the older members.  We made such good time that we were able to do a short CATS session at Moreleigh and still get to Slapton in time for lunch (1.15).  On the return route Eliot, who was slowing down, got special treatment from Michael, receieving 8 pieces of chocolate when the others only got one each - they watched incredulously !  It had the desired effect - he went so fast along the next stretch that he came off on a gravelly corner!  Fortunately he was unhurt. 

This was not an easy decision for Michael.  Martin Rushworth lay face-down on the ground, his limbs splayed out awkwardly.  For the fifth time Michael had asked him to try to move his right leg, but he was still unable to do so.  The symptoms all seemed to suggest the possibility of a broken or fractured femur, and yet how could this possibly have happened?  Martin had been riding with the club along the forest track in Houndtor Wood, about 800m from Becky Falls, and had fallen from his bike.  The track had been wide, relatively smooth and only gently sloping where he had fallen.  He must have been riding a little too fast, hit a root or small stone and lost control.  It seemed unlikely that he could have sustained serious injuries, and yet his inability to move was inescapable. 

Access would be difficult to say the least, but expert opinion would have to be sought before Martin could be moved.  Paul Hamlyn-White stayed with Martin while Michael rode on towards the Becky Falls cafe.  The winter storms had, however, left their mark on the woodlands: the path was obstructed by a series of fallen trees, and the wooden bridge had been boarded off.  When Michael eventually reached the cafe, he discovered that it was closed for the winter. 

The proprietor, who was busy redecorating his lounge, had to get a bubble out of a piece of wallpaper before he would escort Michael to the telephone.  He turned out to be quite helpful, and the ambulance was soon on its way:  the other members of the group were rounded up whilst it travelled from Newton Abbot. 

Michael had explained the situation quite carefully to the emergency operator, including the access problems.  When the ambulance finally arrived, the situation was explained again. 

"Do you think the helicopter would be able to get through?" said the ambulanceman.

"I'm not sure," replied Michael, amazed that he would even have considered such an option at this early stage.  "I'm not even sure he's badly injured.  I think the best course of action is for you to have a look at him first."

"Well, I only asked because the chopper is in the area," replied the ambulanceman.  And with that, the police helicopter flew over the nearby trees with a sudden rush of noise and hovered overhead! 

The other youngsters in the group suddenly realised that the afternoon had quickly turned into a real drama.  The pilot landed the helicopter in a nearby field, spoke to one of the ambulancemen and then took off again to locate Martin and attempt to land nearby.  Meanwhile the two ambulancemen and Michael lugged several items of equipment back along the tortuous route through the woods, climbing over the bridge and crawling under numerous fallen trees.

When they finally reached Martin the police were already there, having landed a few metres to the north in an open field.  The ambulance crew confirmed the diagnosis as a "suspected fracture" and proceeded accordingly.  Martin was carried back to the helicopter on a stretcher and airlifted to Torbay hospital casualty unit.

Suddenly everything was quiet again.  Back at the cafe, two parents had arrived to take the younger riders home.  The rest set off for an energetic return to Buckfastleigh via Haytor, arriving just after 6.30pm.

This was an unexpected end to an interesting ride - which got off to a late start because Marcus and a few others forgot to put their clocks forward.

During our customary stop at the Primrose cafe we met fellow cyclists Alasdair Robertson and friend, who agreed to meet us at the Cleave for lunch.  This they did, and our members spent some time admiring his £1179 Roberts mountain bike - and getting each other wet in the river.  Ï

The track through the Cleave was rough, but older mountain bikers derived considerable pleasure from the initial descent.  Younger riders needed some assistance with the climb after lunch towards Manaton.  Once they had reached the top, there was plenty of downhill riding through the woods ... but you already know the rest of the story. 

The first Buckfastleigh evening ride of the new season got off to a shaky start when Michael's Romany (ridden by Neil) became unridable near Buckfast.  Closer inspection revealed that the bottom bracket had seized (lack of maintenance I'm afraid) and Neil's own cycle had to be brought out before he could continue the ride.

This energetic grade 3 ride attracted a good turnout, including Alan Skinner and Phillip Harler who coped very well with the fast pace despite their tender years.

An unusually friendly tailwind blew us along the A38 from Avonwick to Ivybridge, from where we took the cross-country route to Cornwood.  There was just time for an ice-cream-and-photo stop before we were forced to continue to the reservoir via Cadover Bridge.  It was the last hill that really wore us out:  we were now riding into the wind, and suddenly it didn't seem quite so friendly.

We had arranged to meet the two Rushworths by the reservoir.  During the approach we had spotted the police helicopter circling high above, so we guessed that Martin must be somewhere nearby!  In the event they failed to find us, so after enjoying a well-deserved lunch on the reservoir's eastern bank we continued along the rocky track to Princetown.  The track involved a fair amount of climbing, but the younger riders were often with the leaders.  Poor Martin Hills was last, because he had cut himself at the start of the track and was now nursing a wounded knee.

This was the day of the Dartmoor Prison riot, so there was plenty of action at Princetown.  While we were enjoying refreshments at the Foxtor cafe (ruined only by Warren and Andrew Simmons who upset the proprietor with their bad behaviour) the authorities took possession of parts of the affected wing of the jail:  the large white banner we had seen as we arrived had been removed by the time we left the cafe to look at the numerous satellite dishes and tv cameras that surrounded the scene.

Click on the link below to read the full report on this 5-day senior tour to Mid Wales.

There were a few mechanical adjustments at the top of Green Lane, but we were soon speeding down the track towards Caddaford - Martin reckoned several members wanted a pile-up.  The next track was the one at Beaston.  Fortunately the large muddy lakes had largely dried up, so it was possible to get through with nothing worse than slightly clogged mudguards.  Dayle and Martin's coats were filthy, but they reckoned that was what tracks were all about!

Bradley Wood, near Newton Abbot, always provides plenty of cycling fun.  Today it turned out to be the mystery destination for our Easter Special - although anyone who can read maps could have discovered the destination for themselves from the grid reference.

At 10 o'clock precisely it started to rain in Buckfastleigh.  It continued light and intermittent until we reached Bickington.  There we realised we should have waited for the Totnes group before we left Buckfastleigh.  But no matter, when Dave and Peter arrived from Newton Abbot they informed us that Mike had come to them from Totnes but had turned back because he wasn't feeling too well.  Up to Haytor, almost without incident.  Marcus had a stick entwine itself around his rear derailleur, bending it into an interesting shape.  At first sight it looked beyond redemption, but we amazed ourselves by getting it working again.

There was no sign of Charles and Erin who had said they might meet us at the car park, so we made our way to the quarry for lunch.  It was nice to get out of the wind, and we had on-site entertainment in the form of some slightly foolhardy abseilers.  We then explored the tramway until we had been bounced around enough on the granite setts and headed off for Bovey.  Gravitational pull triumphed over both Dave and Peter on the way down the track, and Marcus managed to find another stick in his back wheel.  It was on the nearside this time, and no harm was done.

Only three members wanted to push on the last four miles to Start Point, the rest preferring to laze around on Slapton Sands and sample two cafes - Sea Breeze (a cafe we have never used before) scored the highest marks.  As we prepared to leave the area several of us noticed that we had cuts on our hands.  Presumably there must have been some broken glass mixed with the sand.

We went to Spitchwick via Hembury this evening, partly because David Platt wanted to meet us there with Simon Barnes.  When we arrived we found that David had been a silly little boy and injured himself.  Many readers will know that there is a rope on the far side of the river pool at Spitchwick, attached to an overhanging tree.  The idea is to swim across the river, climb the rocks to a place where you can grab the rope, swing out and let go, thereby landing in the pool below with a big splash.  Sadly, David hesitated and let go just a fraction too late, when the rope was on the way back to the rocks.  He landed too close to the rocks at the bottom and cut himself.  Michael started to patch him up, but Tom's family were not far away and they whisked him back to Holne for repairs.

After a few minutes spent truing Luke's wheel (damaged last week), we headed off along the old A38.  Just climbing into Ashburton Richard's tyre deflated loudly enough for everyone to hear.  The tyre needed patching, and these delays meant that we arrived at the pick-up point at Chudleigh Bridge about 20 minutes late.  I hope no one thought they had missed us.  The A38 had been busy, but traffic on the Teign Valley road was surprisingly light, given that it was a bank holiday Monday.  The first track, from Steps Bridge to Clifford Bridge, was generally a good surface, but had enough ruts in it to give Matthew misgivings on his skinny‑tyred machine.  We stopped by the river for lunch and a paddle.  Matthew took the road alternative for the next stretch to Fingle Bridge, which is a little rougher. 

We were disappointed to find the shop closed, so no ice creams.  Luke and Martin compensated us with an attempt to ride across the river, a hopeless task, and Martin discovered it was waist deep in places.  Nothing would drag Matthew along Hunters' Path, so we arranged to meet at the main road.  Luke decided to ride all the way up the path while the rest of us walked.  We had a pleasant 15 minutes in the sun, admiring the view, while Luke stuttered his way up.  The descent below Castle Drogo made the climb worthwhile and we met up with Matthew as agreed.  A cafe stop was now necessary, as we were all fairly thirsty, so we headed straight for Moretonhampstead.

Despite magnificent weather the turnout consisted of Ken, Ben and Karina on one contraption and Michael Banks on a smart new Raleigh mountain bike.  Newton Abbot yielded a similarly low addition of just one - Martin Luke.

We were just bemoaning the lack of enthusiasm of the group when, over the horizon, came mean moody magnificent Mark Moxham to swell our numbers to six.  He actually hadn't come for the ride at all but was on his way to drop off an inner tube at Graham Brodie's.  However we persuaded him to join us - on condition he didn't try to lead!

The ride through Teigngrace was quite swift despite the uphill gradient and we soon found ourselves at the 'back' of Stover Country Park.  Our first attempt to enter via a locked gate (on someone's advice - initials MM) ended in a double back down the road.  Eventually we did get in but the paths were so crowded with strollers who were giving us dirty looks that we decided to make for Bovey Tracey and the tea rooms.

Unfortunately only Ken and Martin had any money so we just had ice creams whilst sitting on the wall.

We cycled to Hamlyn Way roundabout and then took the back roads to Barton, which included some long, steep hills.  Neither Peter nor Philip could keep up with Dave Humphreys of course!  Taking the main road towards Shaldon we turned left near Labrador Bay along the track to The Beacon (a trig point commanding excellent views), and then continued down the rough track to Stoke-in-Teignhead.  The whole excursion proved thoroughly enjoyable, and will no doubt be repeated.

None of us had been to Plymouth hostel before, but we were fairly impressed with it by the time we left on Saturday morning.  It is a large mansion located not far from the Torpoint ferry in its own magnificent gardens.  The male dormitory is simply enormous, and not at all to Michael's liking as the only windows are high up in the central dome.  The members' kitchen, warden's kitchen (I believe) and games room are situated within the labyrinth of connected passageways and alcoves that make up the basement.  The only problem with this arrangement is that milk or bread ordered at reception takes some time to find its way to you in the members' kitchen.  All in all the hostel is good fun, and I'm sure we'll be paying a visit again in the future.

Those Easter Tour participants who decided to repeat their trip to Golant were very pleased with the weather conditions, which were much better than the April visit.  The route was similar for the morning and part of the afternoon, taking in Portwrinkle and Seaton before enjoying lunch at Milendreath beach and refreshments at Looe.  After the climb out of Looe we realised that we had plenty of time in hand (because of the early start at Plymouth) so we diverted through Talland Bay and then took the coastal path to Polperro - another all-new experience for us which turned out to be great fun.  We paid the price for our detour with a stiff climb, but it was definitely worth the effort.

We arrived at the hostel in reasonable time for supper (for a change), and were entertained for the rest of the evening by Richard and Toby, demonstrating their newly-acquired juggling skills in our attic dormitory.

There was more good weather in the morning, but our route was not to be quite as scenic as that of the outward journey.  We had an appointment with Plymouth Section members near Darite on the southern fringe of Bodmin Moor for lunch, so the morning was spent riding along mainish roads through Lostwithiel - and patching up poor Tao who got caught up with Matthew HW during an overtaking stint and then steered his brand new mountain bike right across the main road before abandoning it and landing on the tarmac.  The explanation for this strange behaviour came when the bike was inspected afterwards:  the handlebar stem locking bolt was loose, and the wheel had moved out of alignment by nearly 90° during the impact with Matthew!  There was no serious harm done to either bike or rider, but the incident should serve as a reminder to all members not to trust a bike just because it is new:  check it over yourself before you ride it.

We arrived first at the meeting place (to our surprise), and were half-way through our lunches when the Plymouth bunch arrived.  Having nearly doubled our numbers we continued along an interesting wooded route back to Plymouth, pausing for more than half an hour by the river near Pillaton for watery games.  Martin entertained us by waterlogging his wheel bearings while Marcus (from Plymouth) waded through the water in pursuit of some rather large balloons acquired by his friend Steven.

We had planned to go to Denbury, but Peter and Philip wanted to try the woodland track again at Whilborough Common.  Fortunately they remembered the way, but poor Dave didn't.  On more than one occasion he found himself alone in a clearing which had several possible exits, and had to wait until the boys came back for him.

Michael was late this evening (is this unusual?), and to compound the problems Paul delayed us with some minor mechanical problems along Colston Road.  Somehow we still managed to get to Dartington, from where we took the riverside track to Totnes - fortunately there was no neap tide this evening and we were able to enjoy the path without wading through waste-high river water. 

This special rough-riding event was organised by Arthur Brown of Exeter on behalf of all CTC groups in Devon.  Plymouth Section were there, and so were Torbay.  After a picnic lunch in the sun at Bickington the participants set off, one at a time, around the selected route, being observed by a marshal at each difficult section of track.

Another trip to Stoke Gabriel, this time via Aircraft hill and Collaton St Mary.

This was a grade 3 ride, which presumably went some way towards explaining the low turnout.  We were joined unexpectedly by two Torbay Section members (Mark Moxham and Robert Spence) at the Avonwick pick-up, together with a load of novice cyclists from Plymouth riding for the Telethon event.  Mark and Robert decided to stay with us until lunchtime, but we lost the Telethon riders after Ermington.

Mothecombe Beach had been hit with oil contamination from the recent shipping collision, but much had been cleared up by the pollution control experts when we arrived.  All that remained was a heavy smell that surrounded the entire beach area and some oily marks on the rocks.

Peter led the way into Newcombe Woods, and also showed he knew the way out, in spite of Gary's scepticism.  On the way back from Denbury the road was blocked by a Land Rover and an open gate.  The farmer's voice warned us to look out, and then a cow careered rather unsteadily onto the road.  Fortunately Gary resisted the temptation to mention BSE.

Jamie Davey and David Waldron, both from Dawlish, were able to join us this evening for their first ever evening ride as they happened to be camping for the week at the River Dart Country Park with Jamie's large family.  With so many mountain bikers it was clear that a special ride was called for.  No‑one was disappointed with the Avon Dam spectacular ‑ but then, no‑one ever is!

Arriving at the dam, which was not as full as it should have been at this time of year, Michael asked a number of the youngsters if they could work out why there was a large quarry‑like hole in the landscape.  Even when they were looking at the large slabs of stone that made up the dam they still had difficulty working out the answer!

The mad romp across the moor to Cross Furzes was punctuated this evening with Shane Teague falling off in a stony gully.  He landed squarely in a muddy stream, and was then nearly run over by Martin Luke who thought he could get past ‑ he ended up coming off as well, and landed on top of poor Shane!  To conclude the acrobatics, Julian did a somersault over the handlebars when his path was obstructed by Matthew HW.  Michael had no sympathy, saying that Julian must have been going too fast if he couldn't stop in a controlled way.  The grass was soft, however, and the only real damage appeared to be his saddle ratchet.

This evening's ride took Peter, Martin and Dave to Berry Pomeroy and along the track to Redpost.  There was great amusement when David, who had been showing off his racing shoes, slipped over while carrying his bike along a section of track.

Warm sunshine welcomed us to what some members had called the "Ride of the Year".  Just as we were ready to leave Totnes Luke Hatherly decided to announce that his tyre was flat.   When this had been dealt with we climbed out of Totnes towards Harbertonford.  It was here that Martin Luke caused a minor collision between two other members whilst escaping unhurt himself.

By now it was extremely hot, and drink was in short supply as we rolled into East Prawle.   But here our eyes met a welcome sight:  the local shop (called Piglet Stores I believe) was excellently stocked with chilled cans and cool, fresh milk. 

After a brief stop we continued on to the cove, which was down a twisty road and then along a stony track.  Dayle got over-enthusiastic and continued past the beginning of the track:  having gone down a steep hill he was told by a motorist that his friends had turned right at the top!

The cove offered some amusement during lunch as we watched a speed boat pulling a ring with someone in it.  Shortly after the boat had disappeared out of sight behind a ridge of rocks he reappeared - but without the person in the ring!

The return journey took us through Torcross, Strete and the Forces Cross cafe.  Michael had to help the proprietor to work his computer as "payment" for the group enjoying refreshments on the lawn.  Meanwhile Paul HW Enterprises was instructed not to sell on the premises - as if he would!

We rode to Littlehempston at a brisk pace and then explored some more new routes through Woolston Green to the track.  There were plenty of wild strawberries for the pack leaders - Andrew Makepeace kindly saved one for Michael!

After a pleasant evening at the hostel enjoying the warden's home-made flapjack and rambling through the nearby woodlands we were looking forward to a good ride on the Sunday.  Most of us were not disappointed. 

The track through the woods to Clifford Bridge was great fun on this occasion (it's not so good when it's muddy), but two of our number didn't seem to enjoy it much:  Mark Moxham's knees had been giving him some problems so he turned for home so as not to risk further damage, and Martin Hills was a funny shade of green when he emerged at the other end of the woods.  Martin's condition became worse as we proceeded along the track to Fingle Bridge, and when we had completed Hunters Path he had to call his parents out to collect him.  It looked distinctly like gastro-enteritis, especially when he recovered within the predicted 24 hours!

Ah, the Ten Tors Ride!!  What visions this conjures up - the stunning views, the demanding climbs and the wonders of Dartmoor.  In the event the sky was heavily overcast with a promise of rain later, one which was fulfilled by the time we all met at Bickington.

As ever, the turnout from Paignton was poor (3) and Buckfastleigh good (12), even if the 'Leader' was sheltering in a car!!  Matthew Hamlyn-White was in favour of an early return home but was overruled by us hardier souls and we all set off up the long climb to Haytor.  By now the wind was quite strong, especially at the very top of Haytor (or so they say!).

Thereafter followed a succession of Tors navigated expertly by Michael as the visibility reduced to only a few yards.  Eventually Number 9 was conquered and we descended Bone Hill to Widecombe and the cafe (not The Green).

Suitably refreshed we made our way to the last tor, conveniently situated at the start of Dr Blackalls Drive which we later took on our way home.  For some reason Martyn Williams took a severe tumble but was able to continue.

Finally we bid our farewells at Holne Chase.  The locals had a short run home through Hembury whereas the Paignton lot took a nice scenic route through Landscove, Red Post and Blagdon to arrive home rather late at around 8.30.

The changeable weather made it difficult to decide what to do.  Rain was forecast and definitely in the air, so we chose a circuitous route past the new Pennywell farm centre to Rattery.  There were plenty of wild strawberries in the hedge despite the attempts by the vandelous road-builders to knock out all the hedgerows:  is this hedge cutting or hedge demolition?

Our famous track-intensive ride may not have been quite what Leo and Susan had been expecting on their first ride with us.  Avoiding the flying golf balls we picked our way up the side of Ugborough Beacon and enjoyed lunch on the top in a stiff breeze.  We then followed the usual route along the Redlake Tramway, a few going all the way to Redlake and discovering some delightful muddy ditches - which kept them entertained for quite some time.

Very hot weather made this weekend particularly exhausting despite the selection of the easiest possible routes.  British Rail escorted us on four separate trains between Newton Abbot and Eggesford, all of them DMUs, without a single hitch - well done BR.  We took the A377 to Barnstaple and then the cyclepath to Instow - virtually flat all the way.  There was time for a walk to Instow beach after supper.  The hostel was well-liked by everyone, most looking forward to their next visit.

Sunday's route was via Bideford and Torrington.  The cyclepath was not completed beyond Bideford, but that didn't stop a few hardened members trying it out.  The rest watched their progress from various vantage points along the easier road route.  Tao performed very well in view of his illness:  we tackled the remaining hills through Beaford and still reached Eggesford with half an hour to spare before the train was due.

When everyone had finished sliding down the Anaconda Run tube at the River Dart Country Park Martin suggested a new route through Holne Chase - a track!  It sounded like a good idea to the mountain bikers, and indeed it was an interesting route.  The problem was, it was all uphill, and it finally brought us out even higher than we needed to climb, near Galant Le Bower!  Perhaps we'll try it the other way next time.

A sweltering, humid day left everyone tired and dry, so we headed straight for the best cool water we could think of, the river Avon at Shipley Bridge.  Most had lots of fun in the water, using the slippery, green rocks under the surface as a slide.  Even Dave Humphreys went in up to his knees! 

At last we were in a spell of cooler weather, and Jenny Quick took the opportunity to make a welcome return to club activities after her recent back problems.  The track from Littlehempston towards Redpost was dry today and quite easy going - unlike our last visit!  On emerging at the far end we diverted to Pick 'n' Park at Ipplepen for refreshments - just what the doctor ordered.  Matthew Jago's parents happened to be there as well, and they informed us that Matthew had fallen off his bike and suffered some unpleasant injuries.  The news certainly explained his long period of absence.

A lot of main road work took us through the Gappah pick-up and down Telegraph Hill to the Kenn valley, where we enjoyed lunch under the shade of some trees.  Martin Luke had some difficulty finding a taker for his weird crisps, but Mark Hedges seemed to like them.

As we were so close to the sea we decided to break all sensible rules and head for Dawlish Warren - it was overflowing with tourists of course, but several members enjoyed a dip and the subsequent walk/ride along the sea wall to Dawlish.  After some more main roads to Teignmouth we then got away from it all with the climb to Stoke-in-Teignhead's Old Bakery cafe, where the proprietor could not conceal his disappointment that his cafe was to be filled with such clientele - he preferred the type that bought 15 cream teas rather than our mix of cheap drinks and other assorted snacks.

The most remarkable fact about this tour is that it was completely unremarkable.  Nothing went wrong.  The trains were on time, we didn't miss any ferries, nobody suffered any serious accidents or cycle breakdowns, and the weather was adequately dry and sunny for most of the tour.  Everything went exactly according to plan.  Which means, of course, that there isn't a lot to say in this report!

The tour took us from Loch Lomond to Lochinver via Skye, Raasay and the Outer Hebrides.  Our first adventure was the ascent of Ben Nevis - on foot of course.  As usual the clouds were low, and we were soon tramping through thick, damp fog.  No-one was sure of the route, so we gave up after an hour, returning to the hostel cold, wet and hungry to find that the showers were cold - all part of the fun I suppose.  The clouds cleared overnight to leave a crystal clear morning, but of course we didn't have time to make another attempt.  We decided to make a weekend visit next summer when we could be sure of good weather!

Wednesday evening was spent jumping off tall dunes of silver sand on a beach near Morar, the sun setting gloriously over the Western Isles.  The setting was idyllic.  This beach isn't at all like the ones we have in Devon.  It is bright and clean, and we had virtually all of it to ourselves.  The silvery sand rises steeply to grassy banks, and we spent much of the evening running towards the edge, jumping into the air and landing several seconds later  in the soft sand below.  When we couldn't jump any more we took to chasing after Mark Hedges, the Jack Rabbit who just wouldn't be caught. 

At Raasay hostel the following evening we discovered that Martin Hills liked his home comforts.  The hostel is very simple, and it all became too much for Martin when the heavy rain began.  He was cold and miserable and could find nothing nice to say about the poor little hostel.  Admittedly the warden seemed to prefer the company of some older hostellers, treating our group rather coldly at times.  For example, the tiny common room was the only warm place for sitting and chatting, but it was already full with the other hostellers.  We therefore retired to our dormitory to make the best of the situation, and were told not to use the dormitory as a common room and not to keep walking in and out with wet feet!

The next morning was delightful, the sun shining on the blue waters which separated Skye and Raasay.  Our route took us along the eastern flank of Skye, and we were rewarded with the amazing sight of clouds pouring over the edge of cauldron-shaped mountain ridges, and bubbling up around the rock pinnacle known as the Old Man of Storr.  It was a sight we will never forget.

On Saturday morning we had to load our bikes onto a rather small boat in order to travel from the isle of North Uist to the isle of Harris.  Not all the bikes would fit in the cabin below, so a few, including Mark Burnard's Moulton (often called the Super Shopper because of its tiny little wheels) had to be strapped on top.  It wasn't too badly affected by the salt water, however. 

The hostel that evening was at Stockinish, a remote and peaceful hamlet near the island's coast.  When meals had been prepared we all wandered down to the sea to explore.  Martin Luke, of course, had to explore further than everyone else:  he stripped off most of his clothes and swam through the icy waters to an island several hundred metres out.  To his credit he got back again, and still didn't appear too cold as he picked his way across the rocks and grassy verges towards the hostel.

It was Tuesday night when we experienced one of the finest moments of the tour.  The hostel at Achmelvich, near Lochinver, is located near another silver sand beach.  Once again we had a glorious sunset, but this setting was simply out of this world.  It really isn't possible to convey the beauty and solitude of this place - you will just have to go there with us in 1992!

On Wednesday we were plagued with midges all the way from the east coast to the west cost.  We tried to stop for lunch at the half-way point, but as soon as we stopped moving the midges started to bite.  The only solution was to keep walking around at a brisk pace whilst eating one's meal - we must have made a funny sight for the few passers-by!  Eventually we could take it no more and invaded the coffee lounge of the hotel for glorious respite from the wretched insects.

Wednesday night's hostel was certainly the most spectacular of the tour.  Carbisdale Castle was given to the SYHA, and they have restored it as well as their limited funds will allow.  We were given a lengthy guided tour of the hostel by the warden, complete with detailed descriptions of each of the many ghosts that regularly haunt the castle.  Some members didn't feel too comfortable when the light was turned off that night!

The final dash to Inverness on Thursday was hampered by a strong headwind.  It's funny, but the last time we tried that route we had the same problem.  We almost missed the train then, and we almost missed it again today. At one point I was explaining to one of the members how Richard Hopper had broken a rear axle at this very point on our tour four years ago.  With that the boy noticed a problem with his gears, which later turned out to be caused by - a broken rear spindle! 

The tour was certainly very enjoyable.  If you haven't tried one of our tours yet, you really should book up for one soon.  To get away from the daily routine and cycle through some of the most majestic and spectacular scenery in the UK really does make you feel good.  And of course the company is always excellent - you're certain to enjoy yourself on one of the greatest adventures you will ever undertake!

With three Hamlyn-Whites in tow we couldn't have expected to pass Pridhamsleigh (the home of their grandfather) without some incident.  In the event the farm dog caused the problem by following his young masters all the way up the hill!  Someone had to go back with him of course, and everyone agreed it should be one of the HWs!

The final pick-up point of Avonwick saw 16 of us head off towards the moors via Ivybridge and a stop for lunch at picturesque Harford church.  Here some of the older 'lads' got a bit boisterous and gave Martin Luke a dunking in a horse trough.  Although he had probably 'asked for it' this behaviour was far too extreme and we all got a telling off from a couple of understandably irate locals.  I hope that in future we all remember that the good name of the CTC depends on us showing courtesy and consideration to others and that it is unfair to put adult leaders in the invidious position of taking the blame for others who, whilst 'junior', are old enough to know better.

Once on the moor there was a treat for the mountain bikers (ie everyone bar Ken and Michael) with a long gentle downhill track to our destination.  We never did see a tinners' hut but someone said they saw a potato cave.

The river Erme was crossed with some difficulty followed by a very stiff climb across virgin moor to the Two Moors Way.  This we followed for some 1.5 miles where we split up - the more active continuing along the track whilst the younger and more tired went across country up to Petres Cross and then on down to rejoin the group at the river Avon.

We found Bridford Wood, but the track we used wasn't the one Michael had intended.  There was a suitably secluded field for lunch, then (after a wrong turning) we enjoyed the ride through the woods to Steps Bridge.

Ken was showing off his new hand-built child-back tandem today.  The child on the back was Paul, but Ben was also in tow, on the trailer!  The team coped well with the many hills from Buckfastleigh to Hexworthy, but when the rest of the group turned onto a moorland track at Dunnabridge, Ken decided to take the longer tarmac route via Two Bridges and Postbridge.  They finally arrived long after the others had checked in and settled down to the serious business of bed-making and washing.

Much of the evening was spent enjoying supper and playing games, but growing demands for a torchlit walk eventually bore fruit. It was pitch dark except for the few cycle lights.   The boys, being boys, took great delight in running on ahead, hiding just off the edge of the road and then bursting out on the main group as they came close.  It was during one of these little forays that Eliot ran ahead and off to the right down a little path.  His excitement was such that he didn't hear the sound of running water:  he ran straight into the river and fell flat on his face in the icy darkness!  There was great hilarity when he finally emerged, dripping wet and freezing cold - poor Eliot!

After a night of open windows and noisy Keirs we were not ready for the sound of rain.  And just as we were leaving, the warden broke the sad news of his imminent retirement and the proposed "improvements" to the hostel.  Jim has been warden of Bellever for about 30 years.  Things will never be the same there without him, and we won't have quite as much fun when the dormitory is divided into little boxes.

A bad forecast coupled with prolonged periods of rain around the starting time put off all but the hardiest members.  Those who did turn out looked around for a warm refreshment stop and spied the clean, modern frontage of the Dart Cafe.  Appearances can be deceptive, however:  several people were smoking, and the hot chocolate was weak and watery!

We spent half an hour in and around the cafe waiting to see what would happen.  It didn't rain again, so we set off on a short excursion through the delightful riverside lanes of Tuckenhay and Dittisham.  When it still hadn't rained by 2pm we decided to extend the ride somewhat with a crossing on the Dittisham to Greenway ferry.  We had to ring the bell several times and wait about 20 minutes before the ferryman decided to come across for us:  this was the last day of his season, and he didn't appear to be in too much of a rush.

A good attendance voted some important changes to the club's structure, as reported in newsletter 19.

The newly elected committee is listed on page 1 of newsletter 20.  Organisation of activities has now been transferred from the Secretary to three new officers, the local coordinators.  The Secretary retains overall responsibility for the Section, but will now have more time to concentrate on other aspects of the club.  Because social activities will  be handled by the local coordinators, the position of Social Secretary has been dropped.

During the winter season October to March there are no evening rides, and many members felt that one half-day ride per month was insufficient.  From January 1991 there will now be two half day rides per month during the winter seasons, and one per month during the summer season.  The extra ride will be on the third Sunday of each winter month, and for the time being will run from 10am until about 1.30pm.  Please use these rides to introduce your friends to the club.  If you attend the first of the new rides, on 20 January, you may find yourself in the local papers!

Anybody turning up for a winter season ride or summer season evening ride without working lights will be sent home by the ride leader unless everyone present agrees to shorten the ride and return home before dark.

The early start at 9.00 meant that we avoided the worst traffic associated with the Raft Race, but the event diverted us onto the dual carriageway rather than the old A38.  The PA was in full flow as we passed, and the multifarious craft and their equally colourful crews were steeling themselves for the off.  No doubt, like us, they were grateful that the tail end of the hurricane from across the Atlantic had blown itself out the day before.  It was still windy, but at least it was dry.

Martin Luke joined us at Bovey Tracey and we had an uneventful ride up the Teign Valley and over Longdown to Exeter.  Near Stoke Cannon Martin (L) had just asked about lunch when what should we see but a couple of cyclists on the grass verge, eating their own lunch.  Mark Moxham and Mark Williams were surprised to see us, especially (as Mark M pointed out) because this was the first time any of us had cycled along this particular stretch of road.  Mark (whose first name is Richard) and the other Mark (Williams) said hello to Richard (whose second name is William), Martin, Martin and Martyn (Williams).  Having sorted out the names we had settled down to eat our lunch when a car passed with two bikes on top: it was Colin and Jean Brierly from Exeter.  As Martin (Hills) pointed out, you don't really need to organise an AGM: just choose a quiet country lane for lunch and everyone will turn up.

After lunch our spirits were dampened by a dead badger by the side of the road, then lifted by the sight of a deer standing in the road in front of us.  It rapidly leapt the hedge and bounded off with its companion for the cover of some nearby trees.

Richard had just identified Hittisleigh village hall as the destination of next month's longer ride when Martyn noticed he had a puncture.  Later on, near Moretonhampstead, Richard waited for Martin (L) and was just on the point of going back when he appeared:  he had had to sort out a chain problem.  They both went in search of the other two and found them in a café where a girl from Martin's year worked.

For once the Paignton turnout (10) exceeded the Buckfastleigh turnout, owing mainly to the Twyfam and Robfam being out in force.

Timing was immaculate as both groups merged at Fishacre Barton, some 1.5 miles from the final meeting place at Torbryan Church.   Whilst Michael counted heads and gave out newsletters a certain pillar of society, who teaches for a living and has sons called Philip and Dominic, "scrumped" an apple from an overhanging tree.  This, of course, prompted others to follow until the adults present, including the aforementioned individual, had to call a stop ("Do as I say - not as I do").

Owing to the large proportion of youngsters in the party it was decided to go directly to the Pick 'n' Park cafe, which was as excellent as ever.  After our brief repast we went our separate ways at the Style Park Gardens turn-off.

The Paignton group stopped off at Dave Robinson's for yet more refreshments and a chat before setting off for their respective homes.  Buckfastleigh riders had a more arduous return as a result of a decision to use the Beaston track: before they had reached the end of the track they had collected six fine punctures!  Repairs took nearly an hour because the mountain bikers had only one half-decent pump between them.

The predicted showers came to nothing as we enjoyed refreshments in the cafe at Canonteign Falls, so after a short session in the adventure playground we climbed the hill through Higher Ashton towards the destination.  Ken got a puncture in his contraption which took some time to fix, so the rest of us went on to enjoy lunch on the track near the castle.

This ride was somewhat unusual in that the Buckfastleigh crowd were to come to Marldon, giving the Locals a late start at 11.15.  In the event they were somewhat late, and this was compounded by an almost immediate stop at Marldon shops for snacks etc.

Finally we set off properly with Paul (just turned 8 years) proudly leading on his new mountain bike.  At the first side road he stopped, rather abruptly, thinking that he would have to give way to any cars from the left.  It was explained that, whilst caution and self-preservation should always be uppermost in a cyclist's mind, such a practice would make our progress painfully slow - even for South Dartmoor Section.

Again we set off - all except Martin Luke, who had noticed a lack of front brake, and a long suffering Michael who was obliged to provide and fit a replacement.  Unfortunately he was lacking the right equipment (a second spanner!) so he advised Martin that Ken's assistance would be required.  Ken was, by this time, waiting at the next turn off half a mile down the road.

Michael set about packing the tools away, only to look up two minutes later to find that Martin had gone to get Ken on foot!  At times like this there is only one thing to do: have lunch and wait!  Eventually some of the others rode back, retrieved Martin along the way and brought the episode to a satisfactory conclusion.

Sunday dawned, and it also dawned on Richard as he looked at the map that having Chudleigh Bridge as the final pick-up point was not ideal; it meant a rather roundabout route to get to Hittisleigh.  The goal was 12.30 for the DA AGM, and even with the 9.30 start this looked uncertain.

Plymouth Section joined us for our annual November trip to Maypool, near Galmpton.  The firework display provided light entertainment as usual, and the wardens looked after us well.

The Sunday ride took us through the lanes to Kingswear and across the ferry to the Spinning Wheel cafe at Dartmouth.  We managed to get to Blackpool Sands for an enjoyable lunch on the beach.

The Plymouth contingent left us near Strete to make their unenviable journey homewards, whilst we returned to Totnes via Forces Cross and Tuckenhay.

Can you cycle from Marldon to Bovey Tracey in 45 minutes?  We can't.  Which is just one reason why we all finally met up at midday rather than 11.00am (Dave and Lorraine's detour is another story!)

All hope of getting to Cranbrook was abandoned and so we had lunch in Julie's minibus before setting off for a very leisurely jaunt to the tea rooms at Lustleigh.  There we met up with the Hunts who were passing by and decided to join us.

Eventually we set off with a strange mixture of pavement cycle (Joanne Hunt), Rann Trailer, Tandem/Swann trailer/Baby seat, cycle and child seat, mountain bikes, hybrid bike and even a couple of ordinary tourers!  What the great British public on their Sunday outing must have thought I really don't know.  However, they must have been impressed if the number of photo calls we had is anything to go by.

A total of sixteen riders set off from Marldon including, for the very first time, the entire Twydell tribe (all 8 of them) and all four of the Walker family.  This shows a definite trend towards family cycling - let's see more of it.

As our speed was limited we took the most direct route through Compton and then back roads from Park Hill service station to East and then West Ogwell.  There was a track short-cut taken by the hardier souls with varying degrees of muddiness.  Dave Robinson showed us the way with a sensible tourer (ie with mudguards) that negotiated the track easily and left him his usual picture of sartorial elegance.

At West Ogwell we met Michael et al.  It was obvious that an extended ride would not be practical with all the youngsters.  We put a brave face on it and went straight to the Pick 'n' Park café, which was excellent as ever, and then home.

Everyone had earned their lunch by the time they reached Leusdon Lodge at 1.20pm: the air was cold and the climb from Bickington to Haytor and Cold East Cross had been tough on the younger riders.  Once again we had more than forty members wishing to attend, but we didn't have to turn anybody away because several were down with colds on the day.

We could have been on time at Avonwick but Dave for some reason was wandering about looking in shop windows at Totnes without a care in the world.  Ken, although ride leader for the day, felt it disrespectful to say "come on, time to go" to someone who is, well let's face it, older.  Anyway when Ken did eventually mention the fact that fifteen minutes to get to Avonwick might be insufficient it turned out that Dave had thought that we were waiting for the Buckfastleigh lot to arrive - hence his lack of urgency.

In the event we weren't too late and, greetings exchanged, we set off towards Warren Point.  Riding towards California Cross Michael noticed a huge lake of surface water on the inside half of a right hand bend, close to Graffiti House.  It didn't appear to be affecting him as he rounded the bend, but just then a car came around the corner from the other direction.  The driver was going so fast that he couldn't slow down to avoid the lake, and Michael's presence on the offside meant that the driver couldn't swerve.  So he went right through the middle, drenching Michael in dirty, foul-smelling water. Michael wasn't amused, but everyone else was!

In view of the poor weather it was decided to shorten the ride and have coffee at Avon Mill garden centre cafe.  Unfortunately it had closed for the winter the day before!  A particularly unpleasant downpour while we were eating lunch dampened the enthusiasm of even the most hardy participants (sheltering under a cafe doorway is not a lot of fun) so we headed back to Totnes along a different route.

The ride back was memorable for two things: Neil and Martin fell out quite seriously after horse-play got out of hand (again!!) and Dave had a puncture which Ken repaired - Dave may be an engineer but Ken is a father of six!

At Totnes we had to make do with the smoke-laden atmosphere of the Riverside cafe where the serving lady abused Ken for some earlier (imagined) indiscretion.  Ken denied ever having seen the woman before - but he would, wouldn't he!!

Julie was waiting at Buckfastleigh to tell us that Ken was on his way on the tandem, but when they arrived the cold had proved too much for Paul and so they turned back.  We had had several heavy showers, including some hail, before the start, so we were a little anxious about how the day would turn out.  We first headed past Tao's house so he could pick up some gloves: it wasn't a day for bare hands.

Arriving at the turning for Scoriton Richard and Paul took the easier way, while all the others went straight on to pit themselves against the steeper route to Holne.  Richard should have known better: as soon as you split up, things go wrong.  This time it was a careless driver pulling out of his drive and knocking Paul off.  Fortunately the damage was only minor and we were not far from his house, so it didn't take too long to get him home.

The others had their lunch and we decided, with the late start and the additional delay, that Grimspound was out as a destination.  We cruised over to Spitchwick and tackled the climb up to Buckland.  A brief break here, and on to Ponsworthy Splash.  Just before this Richard realised he had left his new stainless steel vacuum flask back at Buckland.  The others went on to whizz down Dr Blackall's drive while he went back to see if it was still there: it wasn't.