On a superb May morning we rode to South Brent, stocked up with food at Plymco and then pressed on to Wrangaton and the steep lane to the golf course. When Dennis had proved his worth by reaching the top first we started the short walk across the golf course, where a competition was in progress. Ten-year-old Dennis spotted a golf ball lying by the path, and when he saw some golfers heading in his direction he did the obvious thing: picked it up for them to save them a walk! Poor Dennis! But they were very understanding, hastily urging him to drop it back where he had found it.

We had lunch half-way up the hill, hunted for letterboxes at Ugborough Beacon itself, then headed across the moor to pick up with the path down the valley to South Brent. Part-way down we found a spring producing a stream of pure ice-cold water - just what we needed on such a hot afternoon. There was time to explore the wooded riverside before we headed home via South Brent.

We chose Mothecombe for our first beach ride of the season, partly because it's one of the easiest to reach. After stocking up with lunch at South Brent (where today they had no sandwiches whatsoever) we sped down the hill to Ermington and were soon dropping down to the Erme estuary.

The tide was on the way out when we arrived, so we had lunch on the near side in the shade of the only tree we could find and then waded across the shallow waters of the Erme to Wonwell beach on the far side. All that remained was to cycle home via California Cross, which we managed in excellent time.

The oppressive heat did not encourage us as we rode through Ashburton, but we hoped things would be a little cooler on the moor. On the climb from Bickington, however, Michael lost control and fell off his bike. Did he have a good excuse? Closer examination revealed that his right crank had broken clean in half - almost unheard of! With no backup available on the end of the phone and no way to ride with only one pedal we had little choice but to hobble back to Ashburton where BigPeaks fitted a second hand chainset as a temporary solution.

By now the heat was so oppressive that we decided to abandon ideas of returning to Bickington for the climb, choosing instead to take the short route home and cool off at Crofters.

With only Joe and Michael out today we decided on a harder ride, taking the Gappah Cross route to Haldon and then descending to the Exeter Ship Canal path that starts at Starcross. The weather was perfect as we rode along the canal path, with swan and signets adding extra interest. We detoured past the riverside shops in the centre of Exeter but eventually settled on Pizza Hut as our preferred lunch stop, consuming two drinks refills before the pizza was served! It's amazing how much more enjoyable a meal can be when it has been really earned!

The long climb from Shillingford St George to Underdown proved the hottest part of the ride, leaving Joe feeling somewhat drained, but we were soon speeding our way home via Chudleigh and feeling very pleased with our efforts.

Today's adventurous ride started with the Colston Road route to Dartington and the cycle path to Totnes, where Morrisons provided a good selection of food for lunch. Next came the fun part of the ride - the cycle path via Sharpham to Ashprington. The path has been much improved over the last few years so we made good progress, interrupted only by a short stop at a rope swing.

We couldn't resist testing out the swings and climbing equipment in Ashprington Play Park, but there was no shade there from the mid-day sun so we continued down the hill to the stepping stones at Tuckenhay and got permission from the owner to have our lunch in a patch of garden beside the river. The ducks seemed pleased to be fed!

The return route was via Forces Cross, Moreleigh and Diptford, making an energetic ride that pushed Louis, Gage and Dennis to their limits.

This was the hottest Sunday of the year so far, and nobody felt like riding too hard or too far. We used car assistance to Steps Bridge and then spent the day riding along cool, flat woodland tracks up and down the Teign Valley woodlands.

After lunch at Fingle Bridge we rode the high Hunters Path with its spectacular views across the valley and then returned by the riverside Fisherman’s Path, a new experience for everyone that turned out to be full of exciting twists and turns. The youngsters didn't much care for the steep flights of steps that we occasionally encountered, but Michael and Gavin were always ready to lend a hand. By the time we eventually returned to Steps Bridge we all felt that this had been one of the most enjoyable rides of the season.

With just Dennis and Josh joining Michael on this sunny summer morning we chose to ride to Shipley Bridge so that the lads could play in the cool waters of the River Avon before continuing past the dam for the fun descent to Cross Furzes.

After an excellent sleep in our well ventilated cabin our hearts sank as we arrived in Cork at 7am: torrential rain lashed against the deck outside the on-board cafe and we knew we were in for a wet start to our tour. Any hopes of sheltering at the ferry port were dashed as we were ejected from the ferry, for there was not a single covered area between the ferry and the road. Even the passport control was exposed to the brutal elements. To make matters worse the port was actually more than 5 miles from Cork, and Cork was not the direction we needed to travel. We got totally drenched just thinking about what to do, so after a quick study of the map we decided the best solution was to accept the inevitable and ride at full speed towards the hostel.

We took the R613 westwards, and once we got going the rain really didn't seem so bad. A driver stopped us near Ballygarvan to tell us that a tree was blocking the road ahead, but we pressed on, hopeful that it would not be a problem for a cycle. As it turned out it very nearly was a problem, but we just managed to carry the bikes over the huge trunk and were greeted on the other side by a friendly local who welcomed us to Ireland! We wondered why there were no road signs warning of the blockage, but apparently this was quite normal for Ireland!

We were looking for the easiest route to the south west, and the main N71 road was just what we were looking for. It seemed to be flat or downhill for miles from Ballinhassig to Bandon so the miles flew by. We stopped at a garage that offered delicious French pastries baked on the premises and top quality hot chocolates - if only garages in the UK could offer such a service! The shop owners and customers seemed a little concerned to see us dripping all around the store, but some locals made us feel very welcome, confirming our view that the Irish are a friendly people.

Stopping too long when you're soaked to the skin is never a good idea no matter how nice the food is, so we set off again quickly for Clonakilty. As we arrived the rain was slowing, so we investigated a model railway village and discovered a cosy cafe built into an old carriage. Sitting on the old train seats with our soaking clothes was not the most pleasant experience, but once again we were entertained by the cafe owner and his friend with stories of how Clonakilty was mainly a town of "blow-ins" - people who have immigrated to Ireland - and amusement at the enormous climbs we had planned for the next few days.

Now the rain had all but stopped so the next leg of the journey to Skibbereen was much more enjoyable. We arrived there by 1.30 have completed 60 miles before lunch - quite an achievement by any standards! We bought lunch and supper in a local supermarket, sent texts to Oliver and Tao (who had chickened out of the tour because they thought it would be too easy), then rode the final 10 miles to Baltimore, a small coastal village bustling with tourists that did its best to entertain us during our long wait for the 5pm ferry to Clear Island. Gavin was so sore and we were both so tired that we slept on the 45 minute crossing in the rickety ferryboat, seeing little of the wonderful coastal scenery.

Clear Island is a remote, self-sufficient community where mainland law doesn't seem to apply: all the cars we saw would never have passed an MOT! We rode over the central hill and down to the hostel, situated on the edge of an isolated bay in tranquil surroundings. The wardens had moved there from Bristol several years earlier and had grown accustomed to the slow pace of life. They built a large open fire in the lounge to welcome us, so after a good meal we settled down by the fire to enjoy a video on the laptop Michael had brought.

(Previous recorded mileage was 70 miles)