Club trip to Exmoor, 10th and 11th May, 2003


It would usually fall to the organiser of the trip, one Bart Hallmark, to write a report, but he's bestowed the honour of doing that upon me for reasons which will become clear later.

Alex, Bart, Emma, Howard, Adam and Chris made their way down to Exford Youth Hostel in two vehicles late on Friday night, the advance party lurking around the hostel after lights-out to open the door for the late arrivals. The week's previously sunny weather broke just as we'd all gathered at the hostel, so we went to bed hoping that it was just an overnight shower.

Saturday morning was overcast and a mite chilly, but that didn't dampen our spirits as we set out on our first ride. We'd spotted a pleasant bridleway climb out of Exford to replace the painful road route, and we were soon well on our way to the top of Dunkery Beacon which was still up in the clouds. It was as we were climbing the moorland track to the summit that the pattern of mechanical disasters for the weekend was established. We were joking about how tricky it was to ride the rutted, stony track, and how if one of us fell off, the others would soon end up in a heap in the heather, when exactly that happened. Howard and his nice shiny Marin full-susser, borrowed on demo from Ben Haywards, took what looked like a gentle low-speed tumble. Somehow this resulted in a moderaly pringled front wheel and a severely bent rear mech hanger. Oh dear. A little brute force and fine adjustment soon had the bike ridable again, and we thought all was fine.

The legendary descent from Dunkery Beacon down into Brockwell was accomplished without serious injury and everyone got to the bottom with big smiles on their faces. The smiles soon turned to alarmed hilarity when we spotted that one of the fork legs on Alex's bike (borrowed from Bart) was poking out of the top of the crown by a good few centimetres. How unusal - some of Bart's Pace forks falling apart! It turned out that an essential bolt had snapped and there was no way of fixing it on the trail, so we decided to head for Minehead where there might be a bike shop but, failing that, there would definitely be fish and chips.

Fortified by lunch on the sea front, we found a bike shop. It couldn't do anything about the snapped bolt, but did have a replacement mech hanger for Howard's Marin, so he was soon back in full working order. In time-honoured fashion, it was decided that Bart should head back to the hostel with the knackered bike while the rest of us carried on with the ride. So Bart gave Alex his other (still working) bike and we set off through the forest towards Dunster. One down, five to go.

We were just enjoying the steep climbs and descents and wooded singletrack south of Dunster when, surprisingly, Bart's other bike self-destructed. Alex was Just Riding Along when the rear mech got intimate with the wheel, wrenching itself into a twisted mass of metal and breaking a couple of spokes. It was clearly time for Alex's initiation into the singlespeed brethren, so with a couple of minutes' work with a chain tool we were off again. However, the ride had now taken on the epic characteristics of an expedition through the Amazon rain forest. Alex's bike was far from happy, and our progress over the wilderness landscape of Croydon Hill was slow but enjoyable and scenic.

Once we reached tarmac again after a white-knuckle descent into Kingsbridge, we decided to head back to Exford along the road since time was marching on. So our merry band proceeded over the hills and valleys, stopping only for snacks and to hitch the improvised inner-tube tow rope to Alex's bike for the steeper climbs. The look on Bart's face as he witnessed his other bike arriving in the village on tow had to be seen to be believed!

On Sunday, Bart and Alex, being bikeless, decided to do the tourist thing, while the other four of us did a varied loop up over the hill and along the River Exe to Winsford, then over into the Barle valley for lunch and a splash around at the Tarr Steps. We even did our good deed for the day helping to push a stranded car out of the ford since no-one else was willing to get their feet wet. The route north along the river bank to Withypool got kind of, erm, technical in places, and I think we all improved our riding skills. Or at least, we'll feel better when the bruises have healed.

It was my turn to have a mechanical on the way into Withypool when my chain wedged itself so firmly between the spokes and the block that we had to break the chain to free it. The final swooping road descent into Exford was an exhilarating finish to the day.

Thanks to all involved for making it such a fine weekend, especially Bart for organising us, but to the whole team for being good company and providing each other with so much moral support and patience. In amongst the lessons on emergency trailside bike repair, we got some great riding in!

Chris Jones