Dorset weekends

Our first attempt to go to Dorset for some mountain biking 2 weekends ago was thwarted whilst packing. Husband tried to adjust my brakes and accidentally bled them dry of hydraulic fluid! Luckily, we'd already planned to spend Sunday pedalling along Bournemouth seafront with G - and my commuter bike was fine for this. Lovely afternoon with chocolate ice cream and great company.

My mountain bike spent a couple of days at the bike shop and last weekend, we tried again. Loaded the camping stuff and bikes and headed for Dorchester. Our route was based on one in a

Dorset mountain bike book we've had for a while but hadn't used. It started on the ridge trail from Maiden Castle to Hardys Monument that we did last year. We then went downhill at Hells Bottom to Portesham (cute sculpture was in Portesham quarry) and along a disused railway to Abbotsbury. Pasty to refuel and we decided that rather than follow the book's suggestion of a road route back, we'd simply double back. Big views of the coast and countryside. The path had actually been destroyed by badger excavating at one point! 30km in total.

Camped at Osmington Mills again and attempted camp cooking for the first time in years - successful chorizo pasta storecupboard carb fest! We walked to the beach in time for sunset, then to the pub that does Badger ales on draught. I slept well, but Husband wasn't convinced that his airbed was working for him and being in a grassy field wasn't helping his hayfever.

Slow breakfast. What I love about being away is that I don't have guilty thoughts about what I should be doing and can just enjoy coffee, eggs, papers.

Sunday's ride was from Puddletown Forest, using a Rough Ride Guide route. We lost a turning early on so opted to change the route - the track was a little overgrown as you can see here. Later, we got to do more vegetation ploughing as rape had almost obliterated the bridleway. Quiet countryside with chalk hills. I had to keep pushing my brake levers outwards as the rape kept on catching them, pushing my brakes on! We went past Thomas Hardy's cottage towards the end - a lovely quiet spot on the edge of the forest. Got lost again in the woods, but weirdly emerged right by the car. My legs are covered in scratches, I'm a bit burned (despite sunscreen) and it was a great weekend.