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| Melton Viaduct |
I was away at first light, and onto the Granite Way, initially a tarmac trail following the Dartmoor Railway, then following the old line which skirted the west side of Dartmoor. I was pretty tired and put that down to the traumas of the Okehampton Experience. At least the knee was behaving itself. Despite the low cloud and limited views the Granite Way was really enjoyable, and it crossed two impressive viaducts on its way to Lydford where I traversed the edge of the gorge before heading across the moor to North Brentor on the NCN27. This turned into a bit of a nightmare, a really rough bouldery track where I seriously feared for Horse's health. I cycled most of it through bracken off to the side. Onto the back roads the route went through Longcross and Milton Abbot before passing a cider mill at the appropriately-named Felldownhead, before dropping down to the venerable Greystones Bridge over the River Tamar. The road out of the valley had three V gradient markers, so I set off with some trepidation and after eating some soggy glucose tablets I found lurking in the barbag, and slugging most of the water. The hill wasn't bad in the end and I was almost disappointed. Then it was on to a village with the delightful name of Little Comfort, set on the banks of the Lowly Brook. It lived up to its |
| NCN27 to North Brentor |
The route now headed just north of west across open moors to Davidstow Airfield, with the wind and rain really picking up. I rejoined the NCN3, and headed direct into the headwind past Crowdy Reservoir. It was grim going, and I put on my waterproof/insulated gloves for the first time. Within 5 minutes my hands were soaked and I'd have to squeeze the handlebars to drain them.The NCN signs were now painted on the road, and I missed a crucial turn-off and ended up taking a long descent down to the River Camel about 3km upstream from where I should have been. All the way down I'd been thinking 'I wouldn't like to bike up this'. Cursing profusely I re-climbed the 80 metre hill and turned off to Churchtown and St Breward. Thoroughly drenched by now I went into a pub car park and tightened up the brakes which had been reluctant to stop me on the big descent. I asked a chap which way it was to the Camel Trail. He didn't say anything, just shook his head in disbelief and pointed down the road. I stopped at a shop and bought a pasta meal and chocolate. "Oh I've got a pair of those gloves. Great aren't they?" "Well they were for the first two minutes". I resisted the temptation to prove my point by giving them a squeeze.
I descended to the Camel Trail and pedalled furiously to avoid hypothermia. At one point there were four pheasants on the trail and they all flew off except one, which ran down the trail in front of me. After 200 metres I started to feel guilty, but not so guilty that I was prepared to sacrifice any forward momentum and let it escape. Its legs were still a blur after 400 metres, and just as I was starting to wonder if pheasant would go with pasta it shot through a gap in the fence and disappeared. By now it was getting gloomy so I kept an eye open for camping spots, which were not forthcoming. Eventually I saw a sign which said NO ENTRY OR ACCESS TO THE RIVER. Perfect. It was nearly dark, and I'd be gone at first light. I put the tent up in double-quick time, threw the wet clothes down the end of the tent, chucked the soggy gloves outside in the hope that a passing badger would eat them, made a brew and a meal and must have been asleep by 7pm.
Day stats 93km 1094 Metres of ascent
Off road 28km
A road 0km
B road 7km
Unclassifed road 58km
