Monday 8 September: day two – Tehaida Farm to Mortenhampstead

62.3 miles. 6:41 hours of cycling. Average speed 9.3mph. 

After a terrific farmhouse breakfast we set off at 9.00 towards Looe. I had carefully marked our route on pages from a 1:200,000 truckers' road atlas and then, one-by-one, put them into the clear plastic map case on top of  my bar bag. I had about 30 pieces of paper in all, each one back-to-back to save weight. I had toyed with the idea of a sat nav, but I love being able to track my progress on a map. My Dad taught me how to read maps and we spent many hours on our hands and knees on the floor pouring over them, particularly of the Quantocks where I grew up. Maps still fascinate me and the way that they give you such detailed information about the land you are travelling over feels like a kind of magic. 

Changing the map in the clear plastic case became a really important ritual for me and gave a tangible sense of distance travelled.

But then we got lost! I missed a turning and instead of staying on the higher road we dropped down into Crumplehorn which sits in yet another steep Cornish river valley. Apparently, Crumplehorn means Maelhoern's farm in old Cornish. It is just up from Polperro and benefits from the tourists (emetts in contemporary Cornish) parking in Crumplehorn and then walking down to Polperro.

We hauled ourselves out of the village up yet another virtical river valley edge and down into Looe with an equally stiff climb out. But then came some lovely rolling countryside towards Torpoint. The weather was properly hot by this stage and we had a very welcome rest waiting for the ferry across the Tamar. 

Plymouth is not too bad a city to cycle across and we picked up National Cycle Route 27 which took us up along the bank of the Plym towards Yelverton. This is highly recommended – and I write this as someone who is not a fan of cycle lanes; by-and-large I find them too slow and fiddly. But the alternative to the Plym cyle lane is the truly horrible A386. All accounts of it paint a picture of a cyclist’s nightmare – not enough space and too many trucks. 

Pete and I had cycled together over Dartmoor  about 25 years earlier. I remember it as being very tough and I was expecting the worst. But in fact it was pretty good. I had to get off and push a couple of times but once you get past Postbridge, which is not only the highest point on Dartmoor but the highest of the whole route from Lands End to John o’Groats, the road rolls nicely. 

On our Somerset levels trip Pete and I had discovered that we ride at very different speeds. I go faster, but stop more often, Pete goes more slowly but just ploughs on. We had agreed that there was little point in trying to cycle together so I was pretty much always in the lead but rarely more than a mile ahead of Pete. I was feeling pleased about how my body was responding. I had been worried about knackered knees and aching shoulders – both problems in the past – but needn’t have done. I do suffer from cramp in my toes when cycling and had gone to see Vishal Madhani at West End Physiotherapy for advice. He checked my cycling shoes and suggested trying not to scrunch my toes and paying more deliberate attention to how my feet were feeling. I was trying all this, but was still getting the cramps. During my session with Vishal he asked about hydration – which ordinary people call drinking water. I had said that I drank plenty, but what I found in the ride is that if I drank much more than my body told me it needed the toe cramp was more manageable. I started drinking a whole bidon every hour with electrolyte tablets in every other one. This really helped. The cramps did not go away but when they came I knew that if I drank a lot straight away they would ease. The downside is that I had to stop very frequently to relieve myself. 

Princetown is a very bleak place. No surprise that they decided to put a prison there. If you escaped where would you go, other than back into the relative comfort of the prison? It reminded me of my farther, who spent three and a half years in various German prison camps and made several escape attempts, during one of which he got so lost and despondent that he went back and presented himself at the front gate. 

There is a very fast drop from Princetown to Mortenhamstead. I was ahead of Pete by about 15 minutes and managed to get a signal to call my partner Hilary who was plotting our progress on a map at home.

Sparrowhawk backpacker is a good place to stay. Right in the middle of Mortenhampstead, comfortable, with lots of bread, jam and tea for breakfast. 

We had our dinner in the White Hart. Pete said his knees had started to hurt. He has a very particular riding style – big gears pushed round slowly – which contrasts with mine of trying to keep a very high cadence. I suggested that this style might be hard on his knees over such big distances.