Setting off in mixed sunshine and rain, and retracing our steps to take us to the ferry for Raasay, the group found it very amusing watching a young lady in her Capri being chased by a red Astra with blue flashing light. It wasn't quite so funny when the Astra stopped abruptly in front of the group, and the driver told us of our supposed crime of bunching at the traffic lights a little way back along the road. Thus the group proceeded carefully along the route to a tin hut / shop for provisions, despite some guilt at realising that we had bought much of the stock, much to some locals' displeasure. A little way up the road, the group stopped for lunch, overlooking a picturesque inlet. Jason, Mark and Philip M rode on to sit opposite the local Primary school for their lunch, and despite some intimidation from the local schoolchildren, the matter was settled fairly amicably.

It was not far to the docking point for the Raasay ferry, and so the group had time to relax on the shingle beach. Once the short crossing was over, the group stocked up with their evening meal in another tin hut shop on Raasay, and following a short ride through some plantations, arrived at Raasay Youth Hostel.

After the evening meal, a few hardy members of the group climbed the local "volcano", Dun Caan, and arrived back just in time for the warden's sing-song, complete with backing vocals from the German guests (who seemed present at every hostel). It meant a lazy remainder of the evening, warm in front of the Aga-type cooker.

The morning was mostly spent lazing about in respective b&bs as the wet, windy weather outside did not look too inviting. For Darrel, Chris and Jeremy's entertainment a vide of the '87 Tour de France was provided by their host's son Donald, a London cycle courier himself.

However, once all the groups had gathered and conversation was exchanged about everyone's respective nights, the group slowly set out of Applecross, along the road for one mile, only to stop at the cafe/shop for lunch and it was not until 1.45pm that the group had all departed.

For once, sunny weather had made an appearance, and thus the coastal scenery looked more spectacular than usual. Passing abandoned fishing villages, the group stopped at a quiet, sandy beach, next to a very secretive naval base, for dune hopping, and departed a little later in sunshine. The road continued to follow the coast, with some exciting descents making an enjoyable day's ride. A quick pause for some of the group at a weaver's shop along the route, and then on towards Torridon.

A final long and very fast descent brought the group to Torridon, a modern hostel, resembling KEVICS at Totnes (as Michael was keen to point out). Most of the group rushed in to see Top of the Pops, and the evening was spent in the hostel, persuaded, perhaps, by the vicious midges outside.

Another late start was caused by further repairs (on Friday night's repairs), and by the time Gairloch was reached further along the road, a cafe stop had inevitably begun. At 12.30 the group left into the wet and very windy weather. Michael, worried about catching a ferry, sent a group of Chris and Michael Hall, Philip and Andrew S ahead to catch the first ferry. All went fairly well along the road despite windy conditions, but it was not until the road began to go along the actual coast that the full force of the wind was felt, with it virtually stopping progress at times, and blowing people off course.

Passing Michael Hall, stopped by a puncture, it was both Darrel and Philip M's turn to experience the wind in more painful terms - the ....

[The remainder of this report is currently missing from our archives. Please let us know if you have a copy.]

[The report for this ride is currently missing from our archives. Please let us know if you have a copy.]

[The report for this ride is currently missing from our archives. Please let us know if you have a copy.]

The threatened rising bell didn't wake us next morning, but a speedboat and a flotilla of yachts did just as well. Members who haven't been to this hostel may find it difficult to picture the fabulous sea and coastal views that greeted us as we drew back the curtains - suffice it to say that we would have been happy to stay in bed all morning.

The first puncture of the day came from Paul as we reached the beach below the hostel. Michael suggested that people should amuse themselves on the beach, but he didn't expect Martyn and Luke to ride across it on their bikes - and everyone was watching when they actually cycled through the sea up to their hubs. OK, they had ATBs, but salt water isn't good for any bike.

Watching the ferryman at Salcombe as we enjoyed a hot drink from the outdoor cafe at East Portlemouthñ was quite enlightening. We reckoned that he must have been taking more than £30 an hour from the various passengers he was transporting. No doubt there are quieter times, but it still seemed quite an easy way to make a living.

There was more action when Michael left his wallet and camera at the cafe and rode all the way to Chivelstone before realising what he had done. The extra ride probably did him good, but it delayed the group just long enough to find the Torcross cafe full up. The weather was perfect, however, so we were happy to eat outside and fool around on the beach for an hour.

Returning via Strete the leading group arrived at Forces Cross cafe just in time to find the proprietress stuck in her car at some temporary traffic lights - she had run out of petrol. Our lads immediately came to her rescue of course, and were later rewarded with a broad smile and a free packet of biscuits. Michael was most envious when he arrived with the stragglers.

This had turned out to be one of our best weekends ever, made possible by a pleasant bunch of youngsters who helped to create a tremendous atmosphere throughout.

An exhilarating ride, including the inevitable cafe stop at Lustleigh where Debbie was (mistakenly) addressed as a "chap" by the proprietor. The cap and heavy clothing probably aided the misunderstanding. She subsequently gave her cap to Mark Sloman and forgot all about it until she got home.

The steep stony track down to Fingle caused a few headaches for some members (not literally I hasten to add), and the climb along Hunters Path caused a few more. Views across the steep-sided, wooded valley from the selected lunch spot made the climb more than worthwhile, although a chilly wind discouraged us from lingering too long.

Continuing at a fair pace down the track we finally met the road and returned homewards across the moor via Chagford. This was a tough ride for the newcomers, but everyone seemed to enjoy themselves.