Day 2 - Saturday 13th May - The journey to…
Ant approaching Dartmoor Caught in the act! Ant approaches Dartmoor

Written by Steve

Leaving the B&B in St Austell after having made some necessary bike repairs, we headed out in the warm sunshine to conquer the fearsome Dartmoor.

After 10 minutes of cycling, we at last came upon a pasty shop, and £4.50 lighter (but two extra large steak pasties heavier), we set off again with newfound vigour.

The first challenge of the day soon hit us; a steep and relentless climb out of St Austell.

We set our heads down to complete the task, and in the distance we saw a pair of fellow cyclists, one flying up the hill with legs like tree trunks, the other swaying precariously trying to keep up with his partner.

At the brow of the hill, the tree trunk stopped to say hello, and we discovered (as seems quite usual these days) that he was a Kiwi.

After exchanging pleasantries, and having weighed up each other’s speeds, he enthusiastically informed us that he had set himself and his steadily deteriorating partner (who was also carrying all the luggage!) the challenge of completing LEJOG in seven days.

After muttering “nutter” at him, we set off again, impressed by the challenge they had set themselves.

The ride towards Dartmoor was unrelenting; one big hill after another, requiring Anthony to consume enough water to hasten the drought status of Cornwall (which, at frequent intervals, he tried to reverse).

We stopped for lunch in Callington (a village with the feel of Royston Vasey), quaffed two litres of Ribena and two pasties, topped off by banana short bread.

Feeling refreshed, we commenced the 10-mile approach to Dartmoor.

I had the distinct advantage over Anthony, as the mixed lunch had had an interesting effect on my bowels, allowing me to blow myself up the hills, leaving Ant behind. I went ahead to climb Dartmoor; the hill we had been fearing for the last two days.

At the top, I was pleased to find a car park with the most fantastic views, full of children playing and old people sitting in their cars reading the papers.

Five minutes passed, after which I heard a guttural animal noise and I looked round to see if it was just me.

I was relieved to see the old people had stopped reading and parents were showing genuine concern.

What was it, I thought? Could it be the Beast of Bodmin? And I quickly whipped out my camera in anticipation of a rare sight.

More noises came, getting louder, some like words I recognised, but wouldn’t repeat in front of my mother.

Ant’s head slowly appeared over the brow, and I understood why he was behind.

Having apparently stopped off for a shower and being dripping wet, I quickly snapped my prey before it pulled into the car park to feed on Mars bars.

Once recovered, we ploughed on towards Moretonhampstead, surrounded by the fantastic moorlands scenery.

We made great time, broken only by stops to allow Anthony to redistribute the water he was acquiring voraciously.

The descent on the moors was fantastic, achieving 45.9mph.

A few pints of local brew and two lamb shanks later, we retired to our rooms to reflect on a fantastically challenging day’s cycling.