Torbay CTC Album

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Sunday 20 November 1983
10:00 - 18:00
Day ride: Topsham Bridge
5 Participants: Steven Bowles, Phil Burrows, Richard Read, Mike Ward, Richard Wiseman
Five of us set off on a cold morning towards Topsham Bridge. By Berry Pomeroy, Richard Wiseman had lost his scarf, Mike Ward had caught us and Richard Read had a puncture. After failing to mend it at the second attempt he called it a day at Totnes. After an uneventful ride through familiar lanes we arrived at Topsham Bridge via the “white road”, which became much steeper and rougher as we descended.

After a short lesson on the habits of salmon, we ate lunch sitting on the wooden bridge about 200 yards downstream. Sitting in the cold, we vowed we would find ourselves a steaming hot pot of tea during the afternoon.

We dragged ourselves out of the valley and descended back into it through Woodleigh. By the old station we agreed to explore the old railway line, but soon turned back when confronted by a private-looking gate. On the return journey, Stephen Bowles decided to attack an over-hanging branch. However, it wrapped itself around his bars and brought him crashing, laughing, to the ground. Richard looked around to see what the trouble was and rode off into the bushes! No damage done we struggled up to the Courtlands Centre where Richard decided to attack Mike’s back light, and all but destroyed it.

We descended into Kingsbridge in search of that tea - to no avail. We trudged over to Torcross where we were sure we would find it, but were disappointed, along with what seemed like hundreds of other people who were out enjoying the autumn sunshine. At the other end of Slapton Sands we hiked up the old track - I’m sure the main road would have been easier. No tea at Strete either, but at Blackpool Sands it awaited us in the beachside café – open every Sunday except Christmas Day. Mind you, the gateaux are expensive, but the pots of tea are to be recommended.

We were reluctant to leave the warmth of the café, but eventually did so, heading for the higher Dartmouth ferry. The long drag up to Hillhead sapped the remainder of our energy, and we slowly wended our way through the metropolis to our destinations, and Sunday dinner.

(Phil Burrows)
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