Fowey to Moretonhampstead

 June 11th

I awoke today to lovely bright sunshine and a forecast for much the same for most of the day. I was not about to repeat yesterday's mistake so I was liberally covered in sunblock. I had plenty of time to make preparation for the Ship Inn didn't do breakfast until 09.00. They did make the concession of allowing me to order last night and I was promised that my full English would be ready at 09.00 as it was.

Hansi

The first task was to ride the half a mile to The Boddinick Ferry which took 4 cars and two cyclist the 400 m accross the Fowey river. The day began as it would continue with a really steep climb from the ferry. On the ferry I had met a German touring cyclist who had cycled from Germany to Dover then Dover to Land's End

before beginning his Land's End to Joh O'Groats. He was camping so his four panniers and tent looked really heavy.We wished each other good fortune and went our separate ways. He was following a different route. I wish I had followed his route for it would have to have been flatter than mine.

Before I had gone the 8 miles to Looue my legs were burning and crying out for respit from the constant ascending the descending only to ascend again. The misery was interrupted when I stopped to allow a car to pass on the single track lane. It turned out that the owner of the house I was outside was a cyclist who was very interested in my trip and promised to put some money on my funding site. This was the first of three such promises today. 

Looue looked interesting but it sat at the foot of a huge down with its huge up to follow. While I was sat on a bench about half way up having a banana for energy a man stopped and asked if I was alright. He told me that he wondered if I had hurt my knee or some such and he just had to turn back to see if I was OK. There are some good Samaritans out there!

It seemed to take forever to cover the twenty miles to Tor Point which is just across the estuary from Plymouth. this ferry which took at least 10 minutes was free as opposed to the one minute crossing previously which cost the princely sum of £2.80 On the ferry I met Dylan a local road cyclist who as well as being interested in my tale gave me good advice for navigating through Plymouth and talked up my afternoon route over Dartmoor. He asked if I had a funding page and promised to add to the ever

Central Plymouth

growing total. Note to self: take more photos!

By the time I had cleared central Plymouth it was 3 pm and I wasn't half way and the hard hills were still to come. Help! Plymouth to Yelverton on the A386 was very very busy and uphill all the way. When I reached Yelverton which had a similar feel to Crianlarich (gateway) I felt the need for some instangt energy. Simon had texted to suggest Lucozade sport- I settled for a large portion of millionaire's shortbread. 

According to my guidebook the climb from Yelverton to Princetown was six miles long and a gain of 300 metres not something to look forward to on already tired legs but it wasn't as bad as expected. It would go up then plateau the go up again. Yes it was tiring. Yes some of it was steep but the Dartmoor scenery meant that I could pretend to take photos when I needed a rest. I didn't need to resort to gear 28 today which is always something.

Dartmoor was spectacular with incredible vistas and wild cattle, sheep and the eponymous ponies and wild horses BUT it was busy with cars and motorbikes and classic cars. It felt a bit like the NC 500. One incident will be long remembered. I came (very slowly it was severely uphill) upon a group of about a doze cattle with calves on the road. The were not for moving and were making aggressive gesture towards me - snorting and pawing the ground. I don't mind admitting I was scared. So I stopped a car coming behind me and asked if he would go slowly past this little herd so that I could cycle on his outside safe from the attention of the prtotective parents. He agreed readily and I passed safely.

Apart from the spectacular ups there were some spectacular downs. I think my top speed was in the high 50kphs but I was constantly afraid that one of the daft sheep would decide to cross in front of me. Later, back in the lanes the problem is you can't see around the corners so you are going around blind but determined not to give away the momentum for the inevitable next hill.

Eventually, I arrived at Moretonhampstead, a pretty Dartmoor village at 19.30. The old post House is my resting place for the night. Very comfortable and a warm welcome. I ate what may be the best pizza I have ever tasted it was billed as "Mafia. Don't ask!" Surprise. Washed down with a bottle of Morretti I felt restored and read to tackle the thanks for the many donations today and to write this before I collapse into what looks a comfortable bed. As I was paying for my pizza and explaining why it was so welcome a fellow diner and his wife called me over and having apologised for eavesdropping informed me that he was planning an end to end next year for Samaritans. He was gobsmacked when I told him that my end to end was for Samaritans and promised to donate and follow my blog.

It has been a strangely up and down day but the ups outweighed the downs both physically and metaphorically. Who know what a Sunday ride to Glastonbury holds in store.