Exmouth served as the unofficial final rendezvous for this fabulous weekend, everyone having been carried across the Exe estuary on the ferry from Starcross for the sum of £1.30 per person and bike. Ken and Simon somehow managed to get punctures within 50 metres of the ferry. We had already eaten our respective lunches, so other forms of amusement had to be found, such as filling water bottles, while repairs were effected.

The ride continued through the village of Littleham to Budleigh Salterton. Here there was time for a short exploration of the stony beach before returning to the bikes for the delightful excursion through Otterton. Sadly, evidence of the drought abounded everywhere: the lanes here were as dry and arid as we had ever seen them, and the stream which usually runs through the village had completely dried up.

We were getting thirsty ourselves. Having enjoyed the views from the summit of Peak Hill we descended into Sidmouth and selected the Mocha cafe on the sea front from the many establishments that traded in the town. The three who ordered Knicker Bocker Glories were not at all sure that the selection had been a good one: they seemed to consist mainly of sauces, with only a scant taste of ice cream here and there. Toby's Rainbow looked better value, so Martin and Michael tried them as well!

The climb to Salcombe Regis was exhausting in the sweltering heat. But then there was the descent through delightful Branscombe, adorned as usual with a profusion of carefully-tended flowers.

One more climb and a track descent brought us to the hostel by 6.30, in good time for the adequate evening meal. Vegetarians were less pleased with their substitution of fruit juice in place of the chicken soup.

In the cool of the evening there was a grand expedition to Beer beach. Several went for a dip, although such activity was fraught with danger: the stones on the beach were almost too painful to walk on with bare feet, and the beach itself fell away sharply under the water, leaving the youngsters out of their depth within a few metres. Those preferring to watch from some of the many deck chairs were entertained by a dog who might have done well in a circus. The youngsters couldn't understand why he kept bringing a large plastic fish tray to them in his mouth, but all became clear when they threw it out to sea: he retrieved it in the same way that ordinary dogs retrieve small sticks!

A late breakfast contributed to the lazy atmosphere that surrounded us all next morning. There was even time for photographs on the hostel lawn before eventual departure at 10am. By popular request our first call was at Beer Quarry Caves, the result of many hundreds of years of underground hand quarrying. We hadn't bargained for the unhelpful lady who barred the entrance. She couldn't do discounts as we were three short, although she eventually agreed to let adults in for child prices. She couldn't do a quick tour - the standard length was 1 hour and the next one started at 10.30. And we couldn't even have a look in the entrance for half price: it was definitely all or nothing. We examined our watches and decided that it would have to be nothing - obviously her superiors have so much business that they can afford to turn down £20 windfalls without a thought!

The next stop was for refreshments at Sidford, which we reached by the main ridge road. After Newton Poppleford we took the lanes and tracks through Hawkerland to the wooded ruins of Woodbury Castle, which offered excellent shelter from the midday sun during lunch, delightful scenery and good opportunities for the mountain bikers amongst our group.

The last part of our ride turned out to be the toughest. A long descent brought us to Topsham, where the local garden centre offered a welcome tap. Even with this supply of water, the climb from Clapham to Haldon was exhausting. The whole hill was exposed to the full heat of the afternoon sun. Not surprisingly, the group voted overwhelmingly to return via Bovey Tracey, where a good hour was spent enjoying cool refreshments before people made their various ways homewards.

The sun shone brightly for our most enjoyable beach ride of the year. As we rolled beyond East Prawle the deep blue sea opened out in front of us, just beckoning us along the dusty little track that would lead us eventually to our secluded destination. A few moments later Nick and Ian were in, watched from high above by those who preferred to eat first.

The waves came crashing down on the beach with such force that Martin, Paul and John spent more than an hour revelling amongst them. Others explored nearby rocky coves, but everyone had a fabulous afternoon. When the time came to say goodbye to the clear, fresh waters, no-one wanted to leave. But maybe the sun will shine for us again in 1990.

This year's main tour took the Section abroad for the first time. The destination was the Western fjords of Norway. Taking part in this mammoth escapade were Shane Powell (13), Mark Burnard (14), Ian Luke (15), Peter Rushworth (15), Mark Sloman (15), Mark Moxham (19) and Michael Jones. Rain plagued the early part of the tour, but this did not detract in any way from its success.

The overnight train was taken from Newton Abbot on the Tuesday evening, depositing everyone on a cold Carlisle station at about 5am. Three hours later a DMU took us across to Newcastle, where we spent the morning buying breakfasts and browsing through the shops for phrase books and cycle parts. The ferry for Norway left in the early evening from the Tyne Commission Quay at Tynemouth, about ten miles from Newcastle. We managed to avoid the built‑up areas by taking the Tyne Cycleway along the South of the river Tyne, and then crossing by way of the Tyne Tunnel, a pedestrian and cycle tunnel which offered great fun at either end on the escalators.
The ship was enormous. There were numerous restaurants, all offering excellent value. We tried to grab sleep in the reclining chairs, but none of us slept too well.

The crossing to Norway took about 25 hours, calling at Stavanger in mid afternoon and dropping us at Bergen at 2130 Norwegian time (one hour ahead of BST). Along the way it passed between the many islands that dominate Norway's western coast. We made our way to the Montana hostel in Bergen and enjoyed our first good night's sleep for three days.

Next morning, after a little shopping, we took the train to Voss, the location of our next hostel. We had planned to go only as far as Dale and cycle the rest of the way, but plans changed as the rain fell! Norwegian trains are certainly good fun. They are electric, of course, and seem to travel at a respectable speed. Bikes are paid for in advance and loaded on for you by the staff, rather like Red Star parcels in Britain. The route included some rather lengthy tunnels but also gave us our first glimpses of the magnificence of Norway's scenery ‑fast flowing rivers, towering mountains, picturesque fjords ‑ a natural wonderland. With an hour to spare at Voss we took a cable car up the towering Hangur mountain side, giving us fabulous views of Vangs lake from the restaurant at the summit.

The hostel was purpose built in a delightful location on the edge of Voss lake - no wonder Voss is such a popular tourist location!

There was more rain for our first day of cycling - not at all what we had hoped for. Our route took us north from Voss, flat for most of the way. We stopped at a shop to stock up with Norwegian yoghurts, made by the official Norwegian dairy company and especially delicious with their separate compartment containing the dry ingredients. We pressed on up a steep 1000m climb with many hairpins. On the way we saw several herds of goats and some farms advertising geitost - goat's cheese - very popular in Norway. It's a dark brown in colour, and sweeter than most cheeses - most of us thought it excellent! As we neared the top we found snow next to the road - an amazing sight in mid-August! We passed several houses with grassed rooves before enjoying the exhilarating descent to Vik. This is located on the Sognefjord, the longest fjord in Norway. We rode around the edge for a few more miles to Vangsnes and our youth hostel.

Vangsnes is really only important for its ferry links across the Sognefjord, but the hostel was comfortable enough. Just for a change it was raining as we left. The ferry to Hella was cleverly designed with two decks and a ramp that could be lowered to allow access to the upper deck. Norway has so many ferries that it's not surprising they have some impressive designs.

Next stop was Sogndal, involving a pleasantly flat ride along the north bank of the fjord. Sogndal itself was a busy town nestling in the shelter of the Sogndalsfjord. The warmer climate and fertile soil was the reason for the presence of many fruit trees, particularly apples, perhaps the first real cultivation we had seen in Norway.

The main hostel looked a bit like Voss hostel, purpose built, but we slept in the annexe which seemed to be used as school boarding rooms during termtime. There were some brighter spells in the weather this morning, so everything looked much more attractive than it had last night.

Today's journey was relatively flat, following the banks of Lustrafjorden for much of the way and then taking us deeper into the mountains. We saw numerous enormous waterfalls running off the mountains and plunging into the fjord. The hostel at Skjolden was situated next to the rapids of a huge river ‑some members of the tour revelled in the overpowering noise, but others couldn't sleep even with the window closed!

The ride to Boverdalen on Tuesday was the toughest of all. The road climbed to a height of 1434m, higher than Ben Nevis, and we took all morning and half of the afternoon to reach the Sognefjell summit. We stopped frequently to admire the ever-improving views.

When we got to the top we were rewarded with scenes which would not have looked out of place in Greenland ‑ huge glaciers hugging the snow‑covered mountain sides, vast lakes with icebergs floating around in them, and subzero temperatures. It was all very impressive, but once the rain began we decided to get on with the descent towards warmer temperatures and hot showers at the hostel. Boverdalen youth hostel was nothing special, but it was adequate.