Ladies and Gentlemen. Unfortunately, due to the 'serious fun' to be had on some of the lanes ridden during this ride I feel it necessary to not provide the lane numbers to all and sundry. If, however, a TRF member really wants to know the lanes we rode please send a SAE and I will enclose a list of lanes. They may bear absolutlely no relevance to the lanes we actually rode but it'll get you off my back for a bit and I don't have to look them up at this moment.
I also toyed with the idea of providing anonimity to the riders to protect the innocent but the bag has well and truly been opened and the cat is long gone. Riders participating in this ride were Adam (DT200 stroker), Fred (KTM525), Bob and Bonny (Serow's) and Gary on something he picked up in Cornwall. It looked very clean and smart at the beginning. I suspect it'll never be the same again.
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left to right TJ , Bob, Fred, Adam and Bonny
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Meeting at Roborough at the civilised week-end lie-in time of 10am I arrived bang on time to meet Fred, the only rider who didn't know the meeting place had been changed. We soon met up with the other three. Non- arrivals were Motorious who had blagged a half- day pass from the Mrs, but punctured on the way to meet us. By the time he had got himself sorted he had time to walk round his bike twice before going home to tell her what a great time he nearly had, and Tom. What can I say about Tom? Only that he didn't/couldn't/wouldn't spend the whole day with us. At his age it's just possible that he had other exciting things to do- unlike the rest of us (well me anyway) for whom this is often the highlight of the week.
The leader led and the followers followed, up hill, down dale, Devon's finest tarmac, grumpy farmer's rolling pastures (and gates) until a fag break was called. Adam, in a fit of generosity offered his baccy pouch around knowing full well that he was the only smoker. Normally he rolls his fag one handed with the pouch and his hand in his pocket. I wonder how he licks the rizla?
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Adam's self portrait
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Photos were taken and away we went again avoiding the Bere Peninsula. Good call...we were only 10 mins past high tide. I suspected that this area would somehow be worked into the route later but I did not suspect the wonderful surprise that was in store for us. Lanes passed beneath our tyres, often remembered only for previous incidents involving badgers, squirrels, or if Bonny's with us, snakes.All were riding at the top of their form, no incidents and no dramas until we came to our old friend- the lane with the tree across it. Adam and Fred were under/over/ past it in a flash ( you'll have to ask them, I was too far behind to see), and away, leaving the rabble to form an untidy queue at the semi- blockage. Gary, a large man by his own admission took a deep breath, carefully tightened his belt and gently rested most of his ample girth on his fuel tank.This was an interesting manouvre because it meant that his head was now higher than if he'd been sitting normally on the bike- well I told you he is big!.No chance of passing under the tree so he and his bike dragged through separately as did Bonny and me. This was teamwork at its best. The field gun crew would have been envious! Bonny and I, very experienced dirt riders that we are, know our place and our pace. The impetuous Gary though was after the other two like the hounds of hell were chasing him. His Forum i.d. is Tornjacket. It should be changed to Straightjacket! We shortly came upon him staggering gingerly to his feet, wringing his hands with woe and dismay and wondering why his bike was facing the way he had come. Now the bike wouldn't start on the button, nor with the kickstart. A twiddle with the fuel tap left us wondering whether it needed Reserve and if it did, where was it?. A search of every pocket, bag and rucksack produced a single pair of 'old prescription' specs.Head and bike were moved back and forth until, at last, a focus was achieved and a decision that R screwhead S = Reserve. The bike started and we moved off to find Adam and Fred lounging lazily on the grass bank amongst primroses and other plants which grow in grass banks.
Regular readers of this section of the Forum will be familiar with the various descriptions of the lane lovingly described as The Bog of Eternal Stench. We were upon similar...less water but deeper, stinking mud. We've ridden this lane many times, in both directions, but once again Gary surprised us by trying to ride it sideways.I have witnessed only one other Devon TRF member riding in this wild, uncontrolled manner..Mr GungHo Trashwit, who seems to have disappeared beneath the Forum radar. Perhaps he's in hospital?
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Bonny
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Onwards, ever onwards, we wended our merry way through the countryside taking in many of Fixer's T2T lanes, slightly widening them for the incomers to the County on 26th and 27th of April, and also the magnificent long lane discovered last month in the report entitled 'Gary Takes The Plunge'. The same long, deep, water filled ruts are still there!. Adam and Fred sailed through. Gary began to follow but gets his sideways head on again until his sideways momentum is abrubtly stopped by a rut. Fred was just too slow to get a pic of Gary and bike sinking beneath the surface. Adam nonchalantly turned round for another go and this time he got it wrong, but fortunately fell onto the bank rather than into the water. Bonny now had a go and with a girly squeak laid her Serow and herself into the water. Fred and Bob stood watching in amazement. It's as though there's something on the bottom dragging the others down except that they know there isn't because their very skilful riding was rewarded with clean runs.Bob did consider throwing himself in with the others because he was feeling a bit left out!. Bob's temporary skilful riding deserted him shortly afterwards when an accidental brush with a tree stump catapulted him into the other side of the lane, but at least the mud was soft.The scars are still in evidence on his knuckle.
We head back towards Tavistock for a tea break, looking forward to doing the lane sometimes described as the 'sting in the tail'.All bar one, no not Gary, cleaned the lane. Congratulations to Gary who on his last effort at this lane exhausted himself and the writer trying to get going on the rocks. But that was three bikes ago. If he can curb his impetuosity and ride within his limits he will find it a lot less painful. And little Bonny. What can we say about her magnificent effort?. She's been up the lane many times but this was her first clean run. Well done to both of them. Adam and Fred would be expected to clean the lane but they didn't. Fred only because he was on photo duties and parked part way up and Adam because , well, he didn't.And me? Don't ask, but I was limping until Wednesday! Adam now began the haul by road to the Bere peninsula and after slithering along that wonderful section by the Estuary and Adam's DT 200 conking out,
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we all ended up on the promontory at the secret place . Fred and Adam trudged through the mud to the water's edge and on their return decided it was a goer. Before they could ride it however, two 4x4's appeared on the opposite bank, hurled themselves through the deep mud on the other side and bumped violently across to us.It was obvious from their passage that there were hidden rocks beneath the water surface.Fred and Adam set off together both making the far side relatively comfortably where Fred blasted up the mud bank to the road and Adam didn't. His bike had stopped again. Fred had enjoyed himself so much he came back across to us and then Gary set off. To give credit where it is due, he stood on the footpegs all the way across but was being bounced slightly upstream of Adam (at the water's edge mending his bike) who suddenly became aware of the fast approaching situation. His panic stricken shout of 'Gary...NO....STOP!!!' fell upon deaf ears. Gary's front wheel stopped dead in the thick, slimy, gloopy, stinking mud at approximately spindle depth and he gracefully, well as gracefully as a 270lb robustly built and shocked person could possibly be, attempted a magnificent tuck with twist, swallow, jacknife with two half-hitches controlled dive over the handlebars. Had he succeeded it would have been magnificent. As it was, spectators lurking about on the bank gave him a sympathetic round of applause before they dissolved into merry laughter accompanied by much clacking of false teeth which even carried to those of us on the other side.Remembering that she carried a waterproof sticking plaster in her previously elsewhere described commodious bag, would- be Nurse Bonny steadily conquered the fast moving water in a stately fashion so that she could render assistance to the potential casualty.
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With no physical harm to Gary the next task was to rescue two bikes, before as someone put it, the tide comes in and swamps them (in about 6 hours time!!!)Adam's bike was now running again but the tracks left by the 4x4's and successfully used by Fred, Bob and Bonny were by now almost filled in again.With muscle, determination and plenty of revs we wrestled the DT through the mud and onto the tarmac. Now for the difficult one. Much grunting, swearing, photo taking and shouted encouragement from the elderly bystanders sustained the rescue group as they strained every sinew and muscle to rescue the bike and Gary, who had by now fallen over into the mud. Whether he slipped or succumbed to exhaustion only he can say. Rumour has it that he pretended to slip to the ground in order to carry out one of the sacred rites of his South Coast occult group, namely the filthy, perverted practice of kissing his leader's rear. In the temporary absence of the Goat of Mendes he attempted to perform the ritual on Adam (see 'photo within the ride report section and the News of the World on Sunday). (
note added from TJ..I havn't got this photo, thank god, it was taken by fred, hopefully it is long lost 
)
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Scorpa t-Ride can be seen still stuck in the mud at water's edge
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In due course all bikes and personnel were regrouped on the tarmac, the mud wrestling was over for the day but may be resumed on another occasion.My thanks to Adam for choosing and leading the route, Fred for his happy snaps, Gary for the entertainment and to Bonny for riding in front of me.
