My wife, Elaine and I had one of those awkward negotiations this week. If you’re into cycling and your partner isn’t, you’ll know how it goes.

‘I fancy a big ride this weekend.’

Silence.

‘The forecast looks a bit rubbish on Friday and Saturday. Maybe I could go on one of those days so we get the nice days to spend with the family?’’

A pause. “How far are you thinking?’

‘Maybe 150, 200?’ Delivered too optimistically. Should’ve gone a bit lighter.

‘Less is better.’

‘But maybe I could get up really early and so I would kind of be doing the extra time when everybody else is still asleep anyway?’

There’s a brief silence while everyone retreats to mentally consider the options. Then Alex raises the big issue that he doesn’t have enough sponsor money for a sponsored silence and Freddie wants to know what time The Apprentice starts and whole conversation is briefly forgotten in the chaos of family life.

We don’t return to the subject until bedtime. ‘Just go and enjoy yourself’ Elaine says ‘I don’t know why but it seems to make you happy so go and have a nice day..’

‘Aww thanks love’, I say, ‘I’ll be as quick as I can!’ Secretly I’m relieved. I’ve already submitted the 200 route.

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By the time the alarm went off at 6am, there was already a pot of coffee on the hob and bread in the toaster. I have an uncanny habit at the moment of waking up before the alarm, and having woken up at 5:45 and remembered I was going cycling there was no going back to sleep again. I’m not great at having breakfast but a milky sugary coffee and some buttery toast later and I was ready to go. I was slightly disappointed that it was not quite as dark as I was expecting, I thought I would l have the pre-dawn world to myself, but it was nice to hear the birds singing outside in the park and for most of the first couple of hours there was barely a vehicle on the road.

The route took me on familiar roads at first, out on the cycle route to Newton Abbot, past the racecourse and Kingsteignton and on via Clay Pits to Chudleigh. On the way I made a couple of small diversions to make up a few hundred metres here and there that would eventually make sure that my route was over the required 200 km. After a Chudleigh, I had my first big hill of the day. The route up to Haldon takes in one very very steep hill that I don’t think I’ve ridden up many times before; I usually find myself coming down after riding up from the coast. It was quite a nice early morning challenge and I eased into an easy gear to spin my way up to the top. It struck me how much Halden overlooks the rest of the nearby landscape, and it seems inconceivable to me that at some point there wasn’t a hill fort here as there are so many other places in the area. Perhaps the evidence is buried underneath the plantation. If nothing else, the Romans must surely have had a fort here to keep an eye on the locals. Thoughts like this kept me going gently up the hill. Everything was really quiet and the bird song in the woods was quite intense. It followed me right the way through the woods and I felt almost Zen like at times. Even the big busy car park at the Forest Centre was almost empty. I whizzed past Haldon Belvedere and started a fun descent along undulating country roads into Exeter, then along a deserted Cowick Street and along the canal north towards St David’s. Parkrun is setting up on the way and I had to ride carefully to avoid mowing down some marshalls. The near misses were low speed and all good humoured and we smiled and exchanged hellos.

I usually get to this point and I’m not sure where to go next. However, having planned my route in advance, I had expert influence on the next hundred kilometres. Last night, I went onto the Audax website and paid the princely sum of £4 to download a route called ‘Mad Hatter’ from the local organiser, Sarah Britton. This is one of the Audax ‘permanent’ routes than can be downloaded by members to be ridden at any time. Sarah‘s route would take me down the river to Exmouth and then in land via Ottery St Mary, Honiton, Cullompton and Crediton before taking me back to Exeter for my final bit of the ride home. It’s a real boon to have access to a bank of such excellent routes and I was happy to be able to ride knowing I just had to follow the GPS track.

And what a great route it was. I knew the first part down to Exmouth fairly well but not the next section following the old railway line over to Littleton. It was quiet with just a few dog walkers around and most seemed fairly used to cyclists coming up and down. I exchanged greetings with everyone I passed.

The route doesn’t quite meet the sea and perhaps my only negative critique is that it would’ve been nice to have taken in eczema seafront as we passed. Soon we were heading back in land and through the pretty little village of Otterton, and just afterwards came my big issue of the day.

The signposted route took a left turn but it was fairly clear from the signage that the road was closed and there was absolutely no access through whatsoever to Newton Poppleford. Quite often, of course, road closures don’t stop pedestrians and cyclists from getting through and perhaps on a bolder day, I would’ve gone and checked it out. However, I had in my head that it would be quite easy to get back on route by simply taking the next left term that came along, but it turned out that this wasn’t impossible.

First of all the road steepens and I had quite a little climb up Peak Hill. When I got to the top, I finally checked my map and realised the road would carry on and take me all the way into Sidmouth, which was completely the wrong direction. My only options from here were to either go all the way back down again and check out the closed road or to go along a bridal path through the forest. Of course, I never go back, so the forest it was.

I’ve been on worst bridlepaths but on the road bike with skinny wheels this was quite a challenge. The path was covered in lumps of chert, many of which had broken to leave sharp edges. It probably wouldn’t have been too bad on a mountain bike or – dare I say it – a gravel bike but on my road bike it was treacherous and I was worried about getting a puncture. I moved along slowly and carefully for a couple of kilometres, then the path went onto who was described as an unmetalled road. This road was completely eroded and in places resembled more of a scree slope than a road. I traversed it very carefully and delicately in my cleats and carrying a bike that was also slipping and sliding all over the place. Progress was suddenly extremely slow. I think the whole episode probably cost me about 45 minutes.

Eventually, I got back to the road and took in a series of villages that brought back memories of my previous life as a cricketer. My mind drifted away going through places like Tipton St John and Thorverton, places I had enjoyed sunny days batting and keeping wicket, and I also passed the beautiful ground at Ottery Saint Mary where I never got to play. The road rolled up and down past village greens and country pubs and I must have passed a dozen places where I could have spent the whole afternoon. In between were the bigger towns of Honiton and Cullompton and it was good to be able to tick these off on my mental route map. Only Crediton to go, and I sped through and on to the A377; a busy road but fast, and before I knew it I was back in Exeter, and back on the canal approaching the Quay. Somewhere along here, my GPS told me that I’d passed 150km for the day, and I stopped for my first rest of the day at the Topsham Brewery taproom.

50 to go and all on familiar roads; first down the Exe and home via Dawlish and Teignmouth. On the Exe Estuary path I approached 165km and my mind raced with a weird monologue by an imaginary Frenchman berating the concept of the Imperial 100 (in miles not kilometres). He made me laugh and I’ll share his thought in another post. Holidaymakers were everywhere from Dawlish Warren onwards and I was close-passed, cut up, reversed into and turned left on more times that I can remember. The final straw was on Torquay seafront when a Landrover did a last-second pass on me and nearly knocked me off with his boot. I spent the last few kilometres in self-preservation mode and nearly missed the family, who had spotted me on the final stretch and jumped out of the car to wave me home.

It was a great day. My first 200 of the year with 2500m of climbing, and I felt good throughout. I didn’t have a break until the 150km mark and although I wasn’t quick – slowed of course by my forest adventure – I never struggled.

And most importantly of all, I wasn’t late home. Good to have credit in the bank for next time!