Distance: 58 miles

Time: 5:39

Elevation: 2342 feet

I didn’t have much food left for breakfast, so pasta it was, and then the tortuous process of loading up my kit began. Quarter to 11 was the wholly unimpressive start time today, perhaps my body stealing back as much recovery as possible.

Today was to be a day of two halves, with the remaining hills of Devon making way for the Somerset levels later on. I was all set for a morning as hard as yesterday’s, but luckily, that didn’t really materialise.

For the first few miles I wound my way between the fields as I made my way back towards the route, joining it at Thorverton, where I stopped at a quaint little shop for something healthy and nutritious, and came out with a chocolate orange brownie.

The going remained fair and as the miles ticked by I started to worry, where were all the hills? But, I needn’t have worried, and 14 miles in, leaving Bradninch, the road headed skywards, a 16% gradient sign staring me in the face. But, I slowed my cadence and with my heart rate in check, rode all the way to the top; redemption for the hill in Penzance I’d walked.

After picking up a chorizo and sweet pepper quiche at The Little Bakery in Cullompton, I ate it near the Uffculme wool mill, before setting off for the last few miles of Devon, which unceremoniously ended as I crossed the M5 Motorway.

Passing through leafy Bradford-on-Tone, I finally reached Taunton, where I tried to navigate its labyrinthine cycle ways before bailing out at Hubbox for sweet potato fries and a milkshake.

The route ahead was to follow the Taunton to Bridgwater canal for the next 14 miles, but a brief sortie along the towpath suggested that, if I wanted to avoid any further punctures, I would be doing no such thing. Instead, I freestyled it a little, heading further west, before making a detour into Bridgwater, to swing by SJS Cycles, the home of Thorn bicycles, and indeed, where my noble steed doth originate. Naturally, it was closed.

Out of Bridgwater, my only remaining goal for the day was to find a campsite, and when the host of the one I’d hoped to stay at emailed to say they were fully booked, I opted for the nearest one available. I’d already booked it when I realised there weren’t any showers, and the ground was so hard I could barely pitch the tent, but hopefully, I’d be somewhere else tomorrow.

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