With numbers thinned by the Easter tour, we enjoyed an almost summery run to the Broadhempston meet, then rode together before splitting. The day was defined by a few tackling the still-swampy Beaston track while others took Forder Green, and by a return past Pridhamsleigh minus its Texaco.

The first Paignton evening ride from Marldon set a lively tone: a dusk run to the Haccombe track, a lovely spot, before a ghostly light in the church hurried Paul away; the group sped home.

On the first evening ride of the season, mischief set the tone: at the top of Luscombe Hill Michael shifted his pannier onto Luke’s borrowed Romany, and later the group dawdled along the freshly trimmed riverside path at Staverton while Paul tried the fallen tree-trunks over the Dart.

An exploratory run to Holcombe Burnell came alive on an untried woodland footpath, threading past cows, stiles and streams with a boggy plank crossing—Shane ferrying little Paul across. A later flat-out dash past the reservoirs got us to Bovey café before closing.

A smashing evening ride threaded the lanes through Combe Fishacre and Torbryan, looping back towards Compton and Blagdon and closing with a delightful sunset. Best remembered for the rations: only two Double Deckers to share.

An evening run to Holne split the group: a few braved the Burchetts Wood track and reached the rendezvous with legs caked in mud, while the rest took the easier climb via Scoriton. The cold ride home bit hard for those without gloves, and Toby was dreaming of a hot bath.

Steady drizzle set the tone, but we finally made it into Dartmoor Wildlife Park, negotiating a £2.50 entry and taking shelter in its warm, dry restaurant before a direct run to the Erme Mill café; from lions to otters, the visit lifted an otherwise soggy day.

An evening of rediscovery as Michael led a quiet exploration of the tracks he once knew in the Westerland valley and around Stoke Gabriel. The lane to Duncannon was a highlight, though thick undergrowth on one path gave Shane and Philip a few awkward moments.

A well-attended evening run to Landscove became a tale of punctures and fading light, dividing the group between lanes and tracks. Paul HW, having waved friends on, was left to mend a puncture alone in the dark, and later a missed rendezvous sent two to the Little Chef instead.

A sunny run to Blackingstone Rock was defined by youthful energy, crowned by nine-year‑old Toby Hopper completing his first full‑day ride. Lunch brought carrot missiles from the rock, and later Paul HW waded North Bovey’s ford before the near‑inevitable puncture.

Relentless rain turned the evening into a ride to the Marldon bus shelter and no further. After a long wait and a brief chat, we abandoned the ride and headed home.