The Mile High Club

The ferry trip from France was uneventful so we took the chance to upload a huge chunk of chapters for the blog even though it was slow using satellite WIFI.

In Plymouth it was overcast and early evening. We rode through town and Sally tried to get herself killed by riding in the combined bus/cycle lane. We arrived at the campground an hour later and threw up the tent and went to bed. Unfortunately a local boy racer used the road across the stream as a raceway so we did not get to sleep until well after midnight. We broke camp and just as we dropped the tent down came the rain and soaked us. We went to

McDonalds down the road and over a breakfast of pancakes we plotted our route out of town. We asked a web site for cyclists to choose the best route to our destination.

That was a mistake. A big mistake.

At the very first roundabout the street names did not match up with the road signs so we continued on. Half way up a hill a kind pedestrian suggested we take the A38 then the A386.
Our second big mistake of the day.
We found our way onto the A38 which is a dual carriageway as busy as the Auckland Southern Motorway. After we got to the bottom of the hill I switched into survival mode and got off and walked. Sally continued to ride. After an hour we found the next exit and took on the A386. Just as busy but one lane each way. The cycle path alternated between on road, on footpath, and non-existent so more walking was in order to stay safe. The hills were long and steep but we got to the edge of town having averaged 4 kms per hour (2.5 mph).

The edge of Dartmoor awaited us and unfortunately a stiff head wind. The road was very narrow with a bank which sometimes covered the white line at the edge of the road. We had to ride much further out in the traffic than normal to avoid hitting the bank. Going up one long hill a truck passed very close and the shockwave blew me off my bike and onto the bank. After that I did a lot more walking when the road was too narrow.

We finally got off the A386 and headed diagonally across Dartmoor in the general direction of Exeter. After half an hour a car blew me off the road and into a hedge so by this stage I was a little fragile. We stumbled across a former railway line which had been turned into a

cycleway. But to access it we had to climb a flight of about 30 steps straight up. Impossible with our loads. So we continued on. The hills got even steeper and longer and the wind increased as well. At Princetown Sally went to the tourist office and the guy assured us that apart from one hard climb it was not too bad. He clearly had never ridden it on a bike. The hills went straight up and straight down as we crossed the moors.

We spotted the sign which said sheep lying on the road. And they were! They also made a habit of getting in the way during the descents so we had to travel slowly down the hills to avoid them. At Mortonhampstead we got out our phones to call our hosts for the night but we had no coverage so we continued on. During the day we had got into the habit of Sally going ahead and me following. Sally probably waited a good hour and a half while I caught her up. She was getting quite cold just waiting for me to arrive.

At the town of Dunsford we asked a local for the best route to Tedbury St Mary and she told us to stay on the road we were on as it was flat and easier.
Our third mistake of the day.
The road promptly went into a 16 percent hill and followed soon after by another long climb. We finally got some very intermittent coverage and phoned our hosts to let them know we were still coming, just very late. We agreed to meet at the town of Tedbury St Mary and he would give us a lift the rest of the way. Sally shot ahead and I limped along behind. By the time I got to the village Sally had phoned him, he had turned up and loaded Sally's bike onto his roof rack. It was after 9 pm. We had been on the road for over 12 hours and covered just 80 kms. The average speed was about 6 kms per hour (4 mph). In one day I had walked 3 times the distance in 3 months in France

A small hill lead into the village and Sally waved at me and so did our host. I foolishly waved back and because I was going so slowly I wobbled and fell off a third time. Sally laughed, she said it looked quite comical. We loaded the bike onto the roof rack and set off for the last 4 miles to Crediton. There was no way I could have ridden the last 4 miles so I was very pleased to have been rescued.

I checked the route out a few days later and was not at all surprised that we had climbed just on 1 vertical mile during the day. So we had unintentionally joined the mile high club without the rewards!

Our hosts for the night were Gabi and Roger and they had prepared a wonderful meal for us which we promptly demolished and we chatted for a while before taking ourselves off to bed. We are so very lucky to have stayed with them and hope that one day they can come to visit us in NZ. Without being rescued I am not sure how we would have coped.