Hatherleigh to Taunton
Distance: 53.2 miles
Time (hours): 4:37
Average Speed: 11.5 mph
Ascent: 4,035 ft
Tough Day
This was a tough day’s ride. From the off, there was a steep climb out of Hatherleigh. And then the hills just kept coming. Normally, a big climb takes you to the top of something. Here, you simply descend the other side. And repeat. After a couple of hours of this, Rob said ‘it would be nice to stay up on top of the hills for a bit’. Sure enough, there followed a good few miles of more sensibly undulating road, with the occasional steep climb to keep us interested.
Cream First
Along this stretch, we found a farm shop and cafe. Pulling in, we were assaulted by a wall of noise generated by families enjoying an open day. Which was quite a shock to the senses, after being lost in our own thoughts on the hills.
A very helpful lady, who may well have been the owner, spotted us and showed us to a safe spot to stow our bikes. She then led us through the mayhem, into the shop and up some stairs to the cafe. She informed us it had opened today, which was fortunate as we’d encountered nowhere else to stop for a cuppa and a sit down. They were only offering drinks and cakes, so we opted for cream teas. These arrived pre-constructed: for the record, cream first, then jam.
Energy-Sapping
After a few more miles, the hills resumed. This was hard on the knees and energy sapping. But we slowly ticked-off the miles. After Tiverton, things became a little easier, now following the course of a broad valley. There were still some goodly climbs but it felt as though progress was being made.
Rolling Cast
Our digs last night – a pub in Hatherleigh – was an intriguing place. When we arrived, members of a local rugby team were shouting at one another in the bar. As the evening wore on, these were replaced by a rolling cast of locals, some of whom disappeared outside with pints in plastic cups. We were informed a brass band was playing in the square up the road, raising money for charity.
Sadly, their performance coincided with our meal’s arrival. So, we were instead serenaded by a playlist of 80’s classics, which was surprisingly OK. We were alarmed to read, in the extensive hotel brochure, that we would be welcome to store our firearms in their gun cabinet. Unfortunately, we’d neglected to bring these. However, we were accompanied by the sound of people shooting at defenseless semi-flightless birds as we made our way across the Devon hills.
Constant Companions
Stopping for a late sandwich break in a beautiful meadow, we saw a red kite for the first time since leaving Somerset a week ago. This was accompanied by several buzzards, which have been our constant companions. So too skylarks, chirruping on high, like old-school dial-up modems.
Switched Off
And then, all of a sudden, Devon was switched off. We went from following a barely-tarmacked track, through narrow hedges in what felt like the middle of nowhere, to being dumped on the main A-road to Wellington and Taunton. And now we were in Somerset. Here, the terrain was flatter, allowing us to make good headway. Sections of cycleway appeared, disappeared and swapped sides, seemingly at random. Which left us to mostly remain on the carriageway.
Hidden Depths?
Coming into Taunton, our previous perception during the outward leg that this is a shit-hole were reinforced. Perhaps the town has hidden depths and a charm that’s not immediately apparent. But it’s bloody awful to cycle through.
So we were relieved to be staying in a Premier Inn on the town’s outskirts. Sanitised and identikit these places may be. But they are clean, tidy and free from the smell of frying meat that seems to permeate the centre.
