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Up into the ‘downs

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On Monday morning, a friend and I set out on our bikes in the sun to test a new-to-us coffee stop, Barleymow’s Farm Shop near Chard. We’ve entered a cycle challenge in April, the Exmoor Beauty, so as part of my “training”, I’d decided on a hilly route, completely ignoring the friendly canal paths and gentle undulations to the north of Chard in favour of something far more challenging via the Blackdowns.

The elevation data for the ride!

The elevation data for the ride!

Blagdon Hill, one of several gateways into the Blackdowns, was ok. Tough, but ok and having survived the first climb of the day, we pushed aside all thoughts of the ones to come and just enjoyed the simple pleasure of riding our bikes in the warmth of the late winter sunshine as we made our way across the upland plateau, before dropping down into Upottery.

The view from the flat(ish!) summit of our route across the Blackdowns. (Click the photo to see a larger version.)

The view from the flat(ish!) summit of our route across the Blackdowns. (Click the photo to see a larger version.)

Turning left, we crossed the River Otter and tried to ignore the second hill looming above us. All memories of conquering Blagdon vanished as my legs screamed and my lungs burned. I resisted the urge to get off and walk, but did stop several times to let my muscles regroup. To add insult to injury, the last section of the hill was met with a warning sign for the junction with the busy A303. One hundred yards left, all of them pointing up towards the sky. You couldn’t even see the tarmac of the main road from the sign’s location!

I lurched my way up there, inspired by the promise of a chance to stop. However, almost as soon I put one foot down, the traffic eased and we had no option but to cross then and there. Why does that never happen at other times?!

The rest of the ride between there and Barleymow’s is a bit of a blur. Swooping down country lanes, past busy farms and lazy livestock, all making the most of this dry spell before the cold set in later in the week, crossing over the River Yarty and then up, up, up, to the other side of the valley, collapsing at the top (and at several points on the way!) and soaking in the view, marvelling at how small the bottom of the valley appeared from our vantage point.

Looking back across the valley from about three quarters of the way up. If you squint, you can make out the River Yarty on the left and the road on the right, just below the farm.

Looking back across the valley from about three quarters of the way up. If you squint, you can make out the River Yarty on the left and the road on the right, just below the farm. (Click for a full size version.)

One last push and we were greeted with a large and friendly sign for our destination:

Barleymow's - all out of Red Rum ...

Barleymow’s: all out of Red Rum …

The restaurant was packed so we sat outside, devouring the delicious food and laughing at the look on our waitress’s face when she asked how far we’d come.

Wisely avoiding the agony of Combe St Nicholas (a pretty village but surrounded by ridiculously steep hills on all sides), we instead headed up the A30 for a mile or so before turning off to take the comparatively gentler road back up into the Blackdowns, waving at the village far below us as we took on the last handful of spikes in the road before collecting our reward: the descent down into the village of Staple Fitzpaine. And at 38mph, it was indeed a fine prize.

We cruised back into Taunton, recuperated with tea and a wonderfully hot shower and then headed to the cinema for a late afternoon showing of Les Mis. Powered by a picknmix-induced sugar rush, I then made my way home under a blanket of stars and the gleaming light of the moon, tired but happy.


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