Date: Tuesday 4th September 2012
Route: WP, Yennadon, Sha**ers Van, Leat, Routrundle, Short Cut, Princetown, Nun's Cross, Scout Hut, bog to Deancombe, HQ.
Riders: Alun, James, Keith, Gidon, Paul, Steve, Colin, Chris & Sam.
Depart WP: 19:40
Arrive HQ: 22:40
Distance: 22 miles
Weather: Good with a bit of mist and drizzle which lifted.

I bumped into Alun at 7:31pm at the forecourt at Yelverton and had a quick catch up on the previous few weeks activities with our respective families (I like Alun). We were then joined by Gidon and also spotted James heading for WP so we joined ranks and headed down Meavy Lane.

Pres was the only immediately visible colleague on our arrival at WP at this stage and understandably challenged where we actually rendezvous as a group. Chris soon appeared, closely followed by Sam and Steve B, then Colin finally dragged his backside out of his cosy dwelling and we were ready to go. "High?" suggested Sam. "Sounds like you have a plan Sam, off you go" replied The Pres. "The mist is gonna lift and it should be nice up there" said Alun. He is very well informed and positive. I like him a lot.

So off we set on a well trodden route but one that everybody seemed content with. Right out of WP, along the bus lane, sharp right at Woodman's Corner and up to Yennadon. I had a well received comedy "off" just before the top and we then re-grouped at the start of the railway line. Along a bit, down to the leat and another re-group at the road. Then, down the road, left to pick up the leat again and on through to the open moors where we hung a left and made for the Dartmoor Rescue Car Park. There then followed a discussion on "how to spot doggers", "is dogging legal" and "as the mist hasn't lifted, shall we head straight down to HQ?"

Once the chirping had stopped we took off on the drop down to the railway line again and pushed on towards the vertical right hand turn and few miles along the track. Seven riders duly gathered as we waited for the two stragglers. Colin and Chris could be seen a mile or so back, ambling along the old line. Upon their arrival, Chris fed us some cock and bull story about his light not working properly. We all agreed that the previous conversation about "dogging" had fuelled their appetite and they were "delayed". Each to their own!

We climbed the link to the higher track and turned right where we (Sam) set off at an impressive pace headed for the village of Princetown. Another re-group at the memorial in Princetown where Alun got out his midget gems (not a euphemism) and shared them with his eight wing men. He is such a good man.

Now re-fuelled and raring to go, Alun and James led the way between the pubs and into the moors. I think it was the third gulley where I tried to copy the impressive skills of my two lead team members when I smashed into the far granite slab and burst my rear tyre. What followed was a pit stop to rival the 2.2 second turn around by Buttons crew in Spa at the weekend. Inspector Bradfield took control, ably supported by Sam and in no time at all I was off and running again. I was nearly as impressed as Chris who witnessed the support and camaraderie of this "p**s taking" bunch he had recently got involved with.

A discussion then followed at our next re-group at the crossroads where "right down boneshaker" seemed most likely, but before we knew it, one of the more keen of tonight's riders clipped in to his cleats and went straight on, heading for the scout hut. We all duly followed and once we had negotiated the tricky obstacles that we all new about over the next mile or two, we rattled our way down towards some very welcome Tarmac (in my dreams). At this point I was quietly congratulating myself with a reasonable performance, considering the lack of miles under the tyres in the last couple of months. Will I never learn?

Someone (please provide me with their name, I think it was Alun, I hate Alun) came up with the bright idea of turning right just before the bottom of the track, hauling ourselves through a leg sapping series of bogs and then throwing ourselves down one of the steepest and nastiest bits of track I've seen in a long while. As you can tell, this finished me off. After negotiating the marshland I promptly threw myself straight on top of Chris who had wiped out (for the fifth time) part way down the track, and I tried to put my knee through the sharpest bit of his frame.

After a brief outbreak of Tourette's from me, we saddled up and realised that if we wanted any refreshment and reward this evening we had better get on with things. We zig zagged our way down to Norsworthy Bridge where Chris took the opportunity for one final off before making our respective way back to HQ. Arriving at HQ 10:40pm ish, we congratulated ourselves with 22 miles and 2000ft of climbing before settling for a single pint (apart from Alun and James who seemed set for a lock in).

Learning from this ride: Beware of Alun. He sucks you in with positive attitude, friendliness and midget gems and then takes you around the back of the woods and f**ks you up. You've been warned!!!!

Reporter: Paul

President's Footnote: After a few short rides recently with early returns to HQ, tonight was pay back time for the "Full Men"!! The ride must have set a new record for most offs in one night, helped on tremendously by Chris owning up to six all on his own (which probably beats Sam's record going up North Hessary)! I had one bog off, nice soft landing, but you do get funny looks at HQ! And as powerful as Gidon's light is, it still can't see to the bottom of a muddy puddle, which was why he skirted around a harmless shallow one and put his front wheel into a three foot deep bog instead that sent him spectacularly over the handle bars!!!!

And it was nice to see the return of Sha**ers Van, he must have been away working all summer because he's got himself a nice new vehicle!