19-22 April 2019

Bideford to Exmoor National Park (19 April 2019, 66 km, 41 mi)

After breakfast, we hopped back on the Tarka Trail. On rail trails like this one, there’s usually no trace of the original railroad - although once in a while you might pass an old depot that’s now a coffee shop or information center. But along a short section of the Tarka Trail between Bideford and Instow, a nonprofit group has restored some of the train cars and buildings. We enjoyed checking out the interpretive signs, and learning about the historic importance of the railroad to these towns.

Just north of Bideford, the Tarka Trail turns eastward, heading up the River Taw. The first 15 km are nearly flat, as the trail follows the banks of the big rivers that flow into Bristol Bay.

When we reached the city of Barnstaple, we stopped to finally wash our bikes. They were filthy from days of riding in wet sand and mud along the Nantes-to-Brest Canal in France.

In continental Europe, self-wash stations for cars were pretty common. They are the kind of car wash where you pull your vehicle into an open bay, drop some coins in a machine, and use the sprayer to wash your own car. They were perfect for bike washing, because you could do it yourself. Here in England, we haven’t seen that type of car wash. So we ended up going to a hand-wash business - the kind where an employee of the car wash sprays down your car, and dries it off for you. We paid the guy with the sprayer the price of one car to spray down our two bikes. He did a great job. 

After the bikes were clean, we pumped up the tires and lubed the chains, which had gotten dry and grimy from the rain, dirt and dust. The bikes look much better now, and riding is easier, too.

After Barnstaple the route pitches uphill, and enters the Exmoor National Park. It actually took 19 miles to ascend all the way to the highest peaks in the moorlands which stand at around 500 m (1,650 ft). But most of that elevation gain came in two, heart-pounding climbs of 1 km and 4 km each, with less steep, but still strenuous ascents in between.

Another feature of these roads is that they are incredibly narrow. In theory they are two-way roads. But they are barely wide enough for a single car, and they are closely bounded by the thick, scratchy hedges, which could really mess up a car’s paint. The “solution” is that periodically, the road widens just enough that if both cars drive on the meager shoulder of the road, in the mud, they can just squeeze by each other. Usually one car pulls over and stops completely to let the other one pass. The only reason this works is that there is hardly any traffic. Cars don’t have to pass each other that often. And for the most part, we had the roads to ourselves, as if they were cycle paths instead of roads for cars. There was one time, however, when a large farm tractor came down the road toward us. There was absolutely no room on either side of the oncoming tractor to get around it or get out of the way, with tall hedges only inches from the tractor on both sides. We had to turn around and go back the way we came for about 100 meters, before we came to a spot where we could get off the road enough to let the tractor by.

Exmoor’s landscape is pretty similar to Dartmoor, in that most of the area is devoted to sheep farming, with natural vegetation only seen on the tops of the highest hills.  

At the top of one of the highest hills we stopped for a panoramic photo, looking south across the park. Without any trees to block the view, you can see a very long way, with the hedgerows and pastures creating a patchwork quilt of green on the hills. Not long after we took the photo, a woman driving a van pulled up next to us. She said that she bikes up the hill we had just climbed a couple of times a week, and she couldn’t imagine doing the ride with a heavy load like us. She gave us a “bravo!” and headed on her way. She didn’t say where she was from, but we wondered if she lived in one of the remote farm villages in Exmoor.

Next on the agenda was finding a place to stay for the night. While in Bideford we had contacted a bunkhouse in the park about possibly booking some bed space. The proprietor said that they were full, but we could camp on the property as long as we didn’t need to use the bunkhouse facilities. That was fine with us. But when we arrived, there wasn’t anyone at the bunkhouse - no proprietors or guests. It was kind of weird. By then it was 5:30pm, so we broke out our PB&J for a quick dinner at one of their picnic tables while we waited. But no one ever showed up. So we left.

Next we thought we might get accommodation in the town of Dulverton, which was 15 km further along the route. But our calls to the B&Bs in town either went unanswered, or they told us they were full.

That left us with only one option, wild camping. In Exmoor, if you are traveling on a public trail, you can camp on the side of the trail for the night without needing permission. We wanted to get away from the road, so we found a bridle trail that led out into a field that was not being used by the sheep, and scouted out a place to camp. We set up camp in the hummucky grass near some flowering gorse bushes. The gorse bushes were nice for providing some privacy, but they have lots of spines so you don’t want to get too close to them.

In the end, we couldn’t have wished for a better outcome. It was a gorgeously warm evening. After putting up the tent, we set up our camp chairs for a second dinner of bread and cheese. As twilight settled in, we saw a herd of Red Deer in a far away field, and heard a Common Cuckoo calling. Red deer have lived in the hills of Exmoor for thousands of years, and were protected throughout history because Exmoor was maintained as a royal hunting ground. With about 3,000 deer in the park, Exmoor is one of the few remaining strongholds for this species in England. But it’s not that easy to get close to them because they are still hunted in the park. We enjoyed seeing this group as they grazed at a safe distance.

Exmoor National Park to Sampford-Peverell (20 April 2019, 42.6 km, 26.5 mi)

In the morning, the tent and grass around our camp in Exmoor National Park were dry. We were totally amazed. This area has been so damp, and there was a mist in the air when we went to bed. So we fully expected to wake up to a soggy morning. It was delightful to pack up a dry tent, and have dry feet as we walked around in the grass.

As we ate breakfast, the Cuckoo started calling again. We jumped up, grabbed our binoculars and a camera, and headed towards the call. The third time’s the charm, as they say. We were finally able to get a look at a Cuckoo! It was a very special moment. The profile of the Cuckoo was very distinctive. They have an unusual posture when they sit in a tree, drooping their wings.

Although the profile for today’s ride was mostly downhill, there were still some very tough uphill stretches. Even the downhills were challenging. On the steep, narrow, winding roads, you have to really squeeze hard on the brakes. It makes my hands hurt and shoulders ache. Plus, you don’t get to go very fast to make up for the slow ascents. We like it better when we can let loose on a wide, moderately graded, nicely paved road. But that’s not the kind of road you find in rural England.

It was another day for seeing pheasants and sheep. The flocks are now full of young lambs, and they are much stronger now that they are a few days older. The lambs are completely adorable, as they scamper around, chasing each other across the fields.

Spring is once again catching up with us - for the third or fourth time. Leaves are coming out on the trees, fruit trees are flowering, and daffodils are in bloom. Since we’ve turned east, and aren’t heading due north for a while, maybe this time spring will stick with us.

For the last 9 km of the ride, we were back on the flatlands, following the towpath of the Grand Western Canal. Built in the early 1800s, the canal was originally meant to connect Bristol to the English Channel. But it was never completed, so it did not become the major shipping artery that its founders hoped. In the end, its most important role was the transportation of limestone from nearby quarries to kilns along its banks, and then taking the processed lime to markets within southern England.

We were not sure how things would go when we arrived at our target campground. A couple of days before, we had called the campground about making a reservation, because we were worried about having a place to stay on the Saturday night before Easter. But they did not answer. We had to leave a message, and they didn’t call us back. So we weren’t completely sure they would have a place for us to stay.

When we arrived, PedalingGuy spoke with the woman at the reception desk. She said they were full, but we could pitch our tent in the grassy picnic area. That was perfect, and really we couldn’t have asked for a better spot. After setting up camp, we walked along the canal into town to buy dinner.

Although it was great to get a camping spot, our night in the campground was not nearly as peaceful as our previous night out on the moors in Exmoor. It doesn’t really matter what campground you’re in. There are always lots of noises from the other campers, barking dogs, and traffic on nearby roads. Camping out on the trail, and camping in an organized campground, are two very, different experiences.

Sampford-Peverell to Bridgwater (21 April 2019, 53.8 km, 33.4 mi)

Happy Easter!

Our tent was wet again, this morning. The places we’ve camped in England haven’t provided tree cover, and with the damp air, dew collects on everything overnight. We waited for a while hoping the tent would dry out a bit, but at 9am we packed up the soggy tent and hit the road.

For the first hour or so we continued on the Grand Western Canal, taking it all the way to the to where the canal ends near Greenham, England. Along the way, we passed one of the historic lime kilns that provided the economic engine for the canal throughout the 1800s. A sign for the Waytown Limekilns described how they created an ingenious system that took advantage of the hills along the canal, using gravity to feed limestone through the kilns, and remove the processed quicklime directly onto barges at the bottom. It was a pretty efficient system.

Once the route left the canal, we were back in bumpy terrain. The hills were mostly short, but very steep. There seems to be a pattern forming here. The landscape is pretty rugged, even though there aren’t big mountains. After one big climb with sections approaching an 11% gradient, we stopped in the small town of Langford Budville. At the corner store, we bought a couple of meat pies for lunch. Very British.

Then, as if someone had waved a wand, we were back on the flats again. For the last 23 km we followed a path along the Taunton-to-Bridgwater Canal. The ride along the canal was scenic, and very reminiscent of the Nantes-to-Brest Canal in France. We passed herds of dairy cattle, and we even passed a few fields of yellow flowers.

Somewhere along the way, PedalingGuy’s kickstand bolt stripped today. It was exactly the same problem I had with my kickstand just under a month ago, in France. We probably have too much weight on our bikes for the BV double-leg kickstands we had used on our TransAm tour. But now that we’ve gotten spoiled by being able to park our bikes upright, almost anywhere, it’s pretty hard to live without a double-leg kickstand. So, we’ll have to get a new kickstand for PedalingGuy as soon as we can. 

We got a room at a very nice hotel in Bridgwater. They put a chocolate Easter egg and some other chocolate treats in the room for guests today. We really appreciated the gesture.

In the evening, we went to see the tidal bore come up the Parrett River, which flows through Bridgwater. What, you may ask, is a tidal bore? They’re waves that flow upriver, created by quickly rising tides that are squeezed into a narrow river channel. Bristol Bay apparently has some of the highest tides on earth, and that creates a tidal bore in the channelized Parrett River when the tide comes rushing in. Neither one of us had ever seen a tidal bore before, so we weren’t quite sure what to expect.

Tonight the height of the Bridgwater tidal bore was not very big. This was a little bit disappointing because it was just two nights past the full moon, so we thought there might be a bigger tide - and consequently a bigger wave. We later heard that the bore is bigger a couple of miles downstream towards Bristol Bay. But regardless of its size, it was still fascinating to see the river reverse course, right before our eyes.

Rest Day in Bridgwater (22 April 2109)

We spent our rest day in Bridgwater taking care of errands. The Monday after Easter is a bank holiday in the UK, so we were worried that stores might be closed - which they almost certainly would be in France or Spain. We were thrilled to find out that, even though stores had more limited hours, pretty much every one of them was open for business. PedalingGuy was able to buy and install a new kickstand, which was one of our highest priorities.

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