Sunday morning saw the beginning of the heat wave. We didn't feel too energetic, so we contented ourselves with riding the few miles to Princetown for a view of the prison and some hot chocolate and toasted tea cakes at the Foxtor cafe. The budgies, which have been on show in their huge cage at the back of the cafe for as long as anyone can remember, looked particularly attractive in the morning sunshine.

We could have ridden the long way home, via Cornwood and Ivybridge, but we fancied lunch by a moorland river so we rode homewards and stopped at Dunnabridge, near Hexworthy. We were all stung and scratched as we scrambled down the bank to the footpath, but the hour spent walking across the stepping stones was well worth the effort.

The weather was perfect for our ride to Salcombe. We arrived in plenty of time for supper, and this year we were given a dormitory overlooking the sea. The usual walk along the coastal path to Starehole Bay provided much entertainment.

When Sunday dawned the rain was pouring from the heavens. Michael obtained the BBC Radio Devon weather forecast by ringing home at 9.30 and having the receiver placed near the radio. Things were predicted to brighten up during the afternoon, but we would never get home if we waited at Salcombe until then. There was no choice: we had to ride.

The ferry to East Portlemouth is a small boat that can just manage five bikes and riders at a time. When the first group had crossed they made good use of the open-air cafe overlooking the beach while the ferryman went back for the second load. It was during a subsequent dash to the beach that Neil slipped on the green wood of the jetty, landed on the sand two metres below and cracked two ribs. He was in considerable pain for a while, but was able to continue with the ride after a lengthy rest.

The thought of the warm cafe at Slapton kept us well motivated for the next hour or two. When we arrived, however, the cafe was filled to capacity and the rain was still as cold and heavy as ever. We made the best of the take-away counter and set off homewards as soon as possible.

The rain finally stopped as we neared Diptford: we were already wet so we didn't deviate from our homeward course.

This year's summer junior tour attracted eighteen participants from around the country. Only Robert Walker joined Michael and Neil from our Section.

The tour started with a train journey to Glasgow. Actually five separate trains were booked to bring all the participants to Glasgow without exceeding British Rail's limit of four bikes per train. When all eighteen had arrived (about 5.45pm) we took another train to Balloch and then rode the two miles to Loch Lomond youth hostel in glorious sunshine. The hostel is enormous, with four floors, 200 beds and magnificent grounds.

On Friday the rain began. It rained all day. We were delayed along the way to Arrochar by a French woman leading a group of French boys on hired bikes: first she needed some ideas regarding the best place to take them in the rain, and then her rear wheel collapsed and required some work with a spoke key.

From Arrochar we booked a ferry trip around the loch and then rode the last few miles to Crianlarich hostel. It was still raining as we arrived, so the rest of the evening was spent queuing for showers and playing an 18-player card league. One of the showers was labelled (or plumbed) back to front: you had to turn the control to cold to get hot water!

Saturday required us to get to Fort William by lunchtime. We planned to use the scenic rail route that crosses Rannoch Moor, but the train can't take more than two bikes. We had therefore arranged for a van to meet us at Upper Tyndrum station and take Jon, Neil and the bikes to Fort William by road. We had rain to contend with again, but once we were on the train the skies began to brighten up.

After lunch in Fort William we rode the few miles to Glen Nevis hostel, moved into our dormitories and then set about climbing Ben Nevis, the highest mountain in Britain. It was two hours before we hit the cloud level and decided to head back for supper.

Sunday's ride took us along the Road to the Isles as far as Garramore hostel. It started raining just after we left Fort William and didn't stop until ten minutes before we reached the hostel! Glenfinnan monument, which should have been a pleasant lunch stop, could only offer a snack bar and billions of biting midges. The lochs and mountains didn't look their best in the rain!

The silver sand beaches near the hostel made up for the miserable weather to a certain extent: magnificent unspoiled stretches of coast with glorious sand dunes kept us amused for an hour.

When we returned to the hostel for supper we discovered that the warden still enjoyed bossing children around: she refused point blank to give change for any notes, even though there was an enormous glass jar filled with donations on the reception desk. Consequently, many of the youngsters couldn't buy chocolate, wash their clothes or make telephone calls. The second problem was that the drying room heater was broken, so our clothes remained wet through the night.

On Monday morning ... it was raining again. We had to catch the 1045 ferry from Mallaig to the Isle of Skye, so we had to get wet. The cafeteria on the boat was somewhat crowded, but at least it was warm. When we disembarked half an hour later the rain had stopped, and the ride around the island was a much happier affair than it might have been. A stiffening headwind made the final leg to Sconser somewhat difficult, but we managed to arrive a few minutes before the departure of the last ferry to the Isle of Raasay.

The hostel on Raasay is just a few miles' climb from the ferry terminal. The views across the Sound to Skye were spectacular, and the cosy common room in the hostel helped make this one of the best hostels on the tour.

On Tuesday the mileage was supposed to be 48 miles, but in fact Michael had copied a misprint from some previous tour: the true mileage was nearer 72 miles! We managed to get back to Skye and down to Kyleakin by late morning, and enjoyed an early lunch when we reached Kyle on the mainland. An unscheduled detour to Plockton didn't help us, caused by the leading riders taking a wrong turning, and when we had ridden around Loch Carron it was late afternoon. We still had to climb the highest road in mainland Britain to reach Applecross, and supper was due to be served at the campsite there at about 7pm.

We rolled in about an hour late, at 8pm, and the food was very, very welcome. All that remained was to ride to our four bed and breakfasts and enjoy a touch of luxury until morning.

We stayed with Mrs Dickens, Bracken Hill, Camusterrach; Mrs Edwards, 1 Burnside, Applecross; Mrs Fergusson, Milltown, Applecross and Mrs Gillies, Camusterrach, Applecross.

Wednesday was altogether easier, taking us around the new coastal road from Applecross to Shieldaig, and then on to Torridon. We passed some deserted houses along the way that made us realise just how harsh the climate can be in these parts. Matthew Pryer had a problem with his Shimano freehub in that it freewheeled in both directions: he went on ahead with Paul and managed to get to the hostel just before us.