After drought conditions had been declared across a lot of the country, the end of April brought winds and torrential rain – the most rain for April apparently, since records started in 1910. Under the conditions, Julie decided to abandon the ride but, nonetheless, one brave soul turned up at the start – Graham Black. Whether he braved the gale force winds and constant showers we’ll no doubt find out when the next club run – weather permitting – takes place.

Anna was perplexed by the quotation from the Prologue to the Canterbury Tales and requested a translation, which I am happy to provide:

When April with its sweet showers
has pierced the drought of March to the root
and filled the veins of every plant with the sap
that makes flowers grow:
When the southerly wind, with its sweet breath,
has brought the tender buds and shoots to life
and the Spring sun
has run half its course into the sign of the Ram
And many little birds make song
and stay half awake throughout the night
(compelled by Nature to sing their hearts away)
That’s when people feel the urge to go on long pilgrimages …

It seemed to be an apt description of another cold, wet, blustery April day, when the Plymouth Section set out their Sunday jaunt, though not to Canterbury, of course! Note that then – like now – there were droughts in March.  So … weather men, don’t despair. Things haven’t changed much!

WHAN that Aprille with his shoures soote
The droghte of Marche hath perced to the roote,
And bathed every veyne in swich licour,
Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his halfe cours y-ronne,
And smale fowles maken melodye,
So priketh hem nature in hir corages:
Than longen folk to goon on pilgrimages

Taken from the Prologue to the Canterbury Tales by Chaucer

So it was that nine brave folk did meet at Coypool and pilgrimaged to the  Tearooms in Knightstone, where we met up with Larry, Les Prior and Bryan Short.  Bryan Richardson (by car), Clare, Anna, Sue, Caroline, Andy P, Graham R, Andy Easton and Roger Floyd, enjoying the sights and sounds of this cold and showery Spring day. George had come and gone by the time we arrived.  Julie was busy with her move.

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Only  Andy P and E, Graham R, Roger F and myself decided to go on after elevenses.  We had lunch in the porch of the church in Petertavy and then parted ways. All, except me, returned home via Whitechurch. It was not a particularly brilliant day. There was a brisk wind and plenty of showers.  I  completed the designated route through South Brent Tor- up the old road,  now in a sad state of repair since its pre-Beecham days, when people still made the journey by foot, horse and cart or [if well off  enough] by motor car to catch the train. On to Lamerton (plus – as always – over-enthusiastic dogs at the bottom of the hill by the farmhouse) and then the ridge road to Denham Bridge, where left up the steep hill through Crapstone, rejoining the cycling path in Yelverton.

Arrived back at Plympton at 5.30 pm.  45 miles on the clock. A good – if somewhat damp - day out.

Author and supposed leader -  Julie

I set off for the Tamar Ferry meet and at the Cot Hill junction met Andy E making his way there also. Waiting for us were George, Mike, Jean, Grahams B and R, and Roger F. I’d had apologies from Sue and Graham J early morning. I had already confessed to GB that I’d not had a chance to do any recci/risk assement for this ride due to heavy personal commitments, and had only planned a very basic direct route really. Once aboard the ferry GB consulted his map and it was decided that St Germans my original morning break was going to be too close for us as The Eliot Arms didn’t open until 11.30 Sundays. At first we thought about going to the Woolen Mill at Trerulefoot, but then eventually enroute that was changed to the Beach Cafe at Seaton, and we arrived there by 10.45.  Andy went outside for a smoke and to prove that the screen was showing live coverage of the beach outside found the camera and waved  and did a little dance for us!

We then set off for Talland Bay and had our lunch there. After that we headed for Duloe the original destination, and went into the field to see the standing stones and read about them. Roger left us between Talland and Duloe.  From there we headed back home calling in at The Windy Ridge, Trerulefoot for an afternoon cuppa (I really was beginning to flag by now) and sat out on the lovely newly decked area in the warm sun. Graham R left us here wanting to get back home, but for the first time in ages we stayed out as a group for most of the ride.  It turned out to be nothing like my quickly planned route; much hillier, a bit longer, but I’m sure more interesting. Thanks to Graham B for taking over because he knows the area relatively well,  and being first mate or riding shotgun – whichever expression is most appropriate in Cornwall!!  The two of us riding from Plympton covered more than 60 miles and according to Andy’s gadget the climb for the day would have been in excess of 1742 metres as we both had a hilly last leg home.

EASTER SUNDAY.  Sunshine and the jubilant sound of St. Mary’s bells, Plympton,  greeted me as I made my way up the final drag to Plymco.

Not so many out today – Sue (our leader),  George, Andy Prideaux, Clare, Graham Reed and me. Regular riders, Graham Black ,  Iris, Anna and Julie were away. Bryan turned up at the start, equipped  with walking stick after his  pot-hole accident, but joined us later with true cycling grit at Glazebrook by car.  The route to our coffee stop was a hilly one – via Sparkwell, Cornwood and Hartford. Sue and Clare zoomed on, inadvertently, at Hartford and we caught them at the railway bridge above Ivybridge.  Graham, Andy and I forged ahead to meet the 11.30 am deadline we had given to the Glazebrook Hotel for coffee and were joined shortly after by the rest of the crew. Bryan and Larry were already there, enjoying the vernal splendour of the hotel’s garden.

There was a separation of the ways after 11′s (or was is 12′s?). Larry headed for Totnes. Clare and Graham went back to Plymouth. The rest of us, in dogged determination, completed the designated route via South Brent, Horsebrook Hill and Avonwick to Ugborough, where we had lunch in a bus shelter in front of a vehicle-crammed car park, which rather spoiled the view of the ancient parish church beyond.

The route back to Ivybridge was new for me and took us out at the Ivybridge Rugby Club. The rest of the journey was old news – we’ve done it SO many times . We were back early in Plympton at about 3.00 pm with a modest, but  not to be sneezed at,  30 miles on the clock.

Written by Graham John

Another lovely Sunday with blue skies and sunshine  but a keen, icy  breeze reminding us that Winter is not all that far behind. With the start of the Easter Holidays numbers were down a bit. Iris gave her apologies at the start and Bryan R said he would meet us at Dean Garden Centre. No Anna, Clare or Caroline today or for that matter Andy Easton, who hasn’t been out for four weeks.  Julie, Sue, George, Grahams R, B and J and Jean set off at a good pace. Sue left us somewhere round Ivybridge.

Going down a steep hill between Broadhempton and Denbury, Bryan hit a nasty pothole and was catapulted off his bike. Jean administered TLC while George went on to alert the others. Bryan’s bike was unusable owning to a buckled wheel, but a kindly motorist transported Bryan and his bike to Denbury, where we all met up later.  Bryan called a taxi and was transported, bike and all,  back to Buckfastleigh.  Bryan has since been to casualty and thankfully nothing is broken.

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After Bryan was safely on his way back to Buckfastleigh, the rest of us ploughed on as far as Staverton.  It was a lovely route, but  I decided to leave the rest and head back to Plymouth via Rattery and Avonwick rather than Buckfastleigh with the others. I went up the lane at the back of what used to be the Forest Inn and returned via Ivybridge and Lee Mill to my car in Plympton at 6.00 pm.

Much was said today about the attitude of some motorists to cyclists and the lamentable state of our roads. Even before we had reached the top of the road out of Plympton we had been honked twice by aggressive motorists and Graham Reed had been nudged by a careless passing motorist. Maybe this is just a British phenomenon but cyclists are not seen as normal obastacles on the road but as deliberate nuisances or targets, which seem to bring out homicidal instincts in certain motorists. There seems to be no effective national strategy – as in other European countries e.g. Germany  - to provide a safe network of cycling paths for cyclists, and the general state of repair of British roads at present is little better than third world – everywhere.

I should say a word of thanks to those considerate motorists who stopped to inquire if Bryan was all right and especially to the gentleman who made himself late for work by driving Bryan to the inn in Denbury.