RSF - The Off Road Cycling Club

The Adventure Starts Here


A.T.B’s are an American gimmick, which will, probably, like the skate-board, fade into obscurity. - An RSF member in 'letters to the editor'


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1983 Jan-Feb Vol 28 No.1

On leaving there we were attracted by a sign proclaiming “Unsuitable for motors”, which seemed to offer a quiet alternative to other routes. Running past thatched cottages, the route took us to a ford over the River Bovey —a delightful spot. Tarmac soon gave way to a cart-track, which in turn became a green way between typical Devon hedgerows. Unsuitable for motors, indeed!—impossible more like, though easily negotiable by cycle.

1983 March-April Vol 28 No.2

All seemed quiet as we passed the back of the lodge, and just as we opened a gate to pass out of the grounds, it started to rain heavily. We dashed for the shelter of a thick plantation. Two young men came swinging along the road towards us. They looked rather surprised when they saw us, and even more so when they saw the tandem.

1983 May-June Vol 28 No.3

Hotels tempted, but resolutely I tackled the long drag of Glen Ogle, marvelling how trains used to manage to climb this steep incline. The exertion of the climb caused me to remove gloves and wooly hat, made me very warm, the heat from my exertions countering the effect of the rain and drizzle.

1983 July-Aug Vol 28 No.4

Before we moved off again some pony trekkers came slowly along and showed an interest in our particular style of locomotion, as compared with their own. Making a pretence of being tired of pushing our bicycles around, we offered to swop them for a couple of their ponies, but there were no takers, which perhaps was fortunate for us

1983 Sept-Oct Vol 28 No.5

Near the Llanelli Water Board’s premises, we took a friendly roadman’s advice and sought permission at the cottage to use the private road to the reservoir instead of taking the public footpath. This turned out to be an evenly graded road and rideable. The locked gates at the filter beds were circumnavigated by passing through a gap in the stone wall on the left, re-joining the road a little further on.

1983 Nov-Dec Vol 28 No.6 (Index)

Shortly after this I came to a broken-down signpost, and with paths going in two or three directions, my map was of insufficient scale to show them in detail. The one I chose ended up as the bed of a stream, but I knew it was at least in the right direction, and when I regained the main path I could see that this had taken a loop and I had managed to cut out some distance at the expense of scrambling along the stream bed. I wondered if my progress was being observed from the revolving restaurant on the summit of the Schilthorn, which towered above me.

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