When the World Cup downhill championships come so close (Fort William is only an hour and a half away from us) it would be rude not to spend a day popping through to see the action on the tracks down from Aonach Mor. We were lucky enough to get tickets to see the finals on Sunday.
We got a bike seat for Dora as soon as she was old enough. We took her out twice, had a lovely time, and then winter came. And it just seemed to stick around for ever! We’re generally all-weather kind of people, but it’s not fair to stick Dora on the back of a bike when she’s not moving, she’s not only exposed to the elements but moving through them at some speed (however slow!) and it’s wet and cold and windy.
Ever since we moved, a trip up to the wind farm on the hill side behind our village has been on our to do list. And it’s certainly not due to lack of trying that we haven’t reached it yet.
After a good night’s sleep and a fantastic full breakfast we were cycling by half-past nine. I was quite impressed by our departure time, but less so by the weather. The drizzle had not been forecast; nor had the thunderstorm. As we toiled up a steep hill, the heavens opened and we were pelted by hailstones, which really hurt when your only protection is a bit of lycra.
Dom has been super busy at work recently which has meant it’s just been me and the kids most weekends. To start off we played it safe, with some local dog walks and trips to all the lovely castles we have on our doorstop, but this didn’t really cut it with James and Sophie, they were soon yearning for something a little bit more exciting.
I don’t know about you, but it’s felt to me like this winter was never going to end! Bad weather, combined with flus and tummy bugs over Easter meant that last Monday evening, my cabin fever was at maximum.
Waking up in Brixham – on a beautiful day and with church bells ringing out across the harbour – was magical. Rather than being wracked with guilt at ‘cheating’, I felt quite liberated, and ready to continue my new, more relaxed approach to our adventure!
Having told you in ‘Adventure Dilemmas’ about all the indecision and procrastination surrounding our adventure last summer, I need to tell you about how it all went.
Last Saturday was a day of huge excitement in our house as we upgraded the 7yo to the next size bike which meant that the 5yo inherited the old bike. I'm not sure who was more excited, the older boy with the brand new bike, or the younger boy who finally had a bike with gears.
Before settling down for the night in Charmouth, I had given myself a good talking to for having ‘confused’ numbers such as 56 and 59 with much smaller numbers such as 40. I had looked again at the route for the following day, established that Brixham was 54 miles away, which would mean setting off at half-past nine, and had given myself another good talking to.
Our newest cycle route follows both sides of the Tuki Tuki river – what a great sounding word!
