This post is a copy of a post written for the TET Facebook Group during the trip itself, posted here entirely unedited. It is the first of three posts aimed at trail riders that talk about my summer 2026 trip to the UK, the final leg of a two year trip around Western Europe. I have also written, or will soon write, posts with less of a trail riding specific focus summarising the UK trip and reflecting on the Europe trip as a whole.
The map above sometimes takes a few seconds to load and move to the right location, please be patient. This post covers the section in Devon and Cornwall, from Poole to the Severn crossing.
Here’s a holiday destination that I never imagined I’d visit. I’ve spent a decade living in Deutschland now and I’ve never really looked back at the UK, certainly never with longing or regret. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been back. But this trip was always planned to end at the pie shop in Cornhill on Tweed, just a short hop from mum and dad’s house.
It’s the culmination of a two year journey that started in Germany, in the Südschwarzwald and took me through France, Spain and Portugal to the Algarve. This year has seen me follow the TET though Spain and France to get to where I am now – in the south of Wales.
This is intended to be part one of probably three on the UK, this one covering the South West. Picking up the bike in France, near Caen, was not as uneventful as I’d have liked. I was greeted with a bike that still didn’t really want to start, both low fuel and a dead battery. Fuel I could fix. DRs don’t need their battery and I had a ferry to catch, I’d have to fix that problems along the way. Riding off I discovered a few more things not entirely to my liking, the biggest being that my mousses were not correctly installed. The bead wasn’t in. I hoped the 150km would – as usual – pop the bead into place.
I rolled off the boat still wiggling all over the place. Try as I might, including bumping off of pavements and hitting obstacles at speed nothing would seat my bead. Nor would anything charge my battery.
Poole Provided. At a enduro specialist for opening time, when one of the two chiefs arrived I was happy to be told he’d have a look there and then. I can’t pull a mousse by myself with only one tyre lever. Both moussen were buggered. One had chunks out of it from mounting. Both were squishy and cooked. So I’m back on tubes. Just down the road a friendly battery shop had a perfectly sized lead acid battery to replace my swanky lithium one. Back to old school tech there as well.
So. What about the trail riding? In the mixture of road and short trail sections the whole of the south west is very much like Normandy. It’s up and down, but never goes above 500m of altitude. The trails are predominantly narrow, very little wide twin track like you’ll find in Spain. Narrow can mean “fit a land rover down it” and can also mean “barely fit a tail bike”. It’s probably something like half single track, half narrow twin track.
Aesthetically, it’s a beautiful landscape and many of the lanes and roads are tree lined – quite stunning in the right light. In terms of challenge – I turned around once, although I’d probably have made it with some work and risk but I had a date with a solar eclipse which I didn’t want to miss. I did sweat and swear my way up some, I cruised most. The deep ruts can be deeply annoying.
Is it worth it? Yes. But in a very different way to the Alps or Pyrenees. You’re not on a gorgeous gravel track for a couple hours, you’re on a lane for a couple minutes then back to the road. The route sometimes goes well out of it’s way to put you on some rocks for 500m. I think if you’re a seriously dedicated trail rider, someone who just loves smashing along a track – in it for the challenge – it’s probably great. If you’re a tourist who’s in it more for the views it’s still fun, but it’s not a perfect match. Some of the scenery, trail or road, is spectacular – especially at the coast.
Things to watch out for? Slippery fords for one. I entered one with too much speed and too little respect. Down I went, falling hard. I can still feel my knees days later. I could barely walk that evening. Without my friends L and R from Leatt I think I’d have been in hospital. Funny thing being that I landed on my DSLR. Which is fine. Nikon are truly the Suzuki of cameras.
I spent two nights at Richard’s house right in the centre of the peninsula, he’s also a DR350 guy and we’ve bounced countless ideas off of each other over the years. He’s also an old geezer who can out-ride me by a massive factor! Serious skill there. We took some day rides and fixed a few bits and pieces on Poe, including the crappy bracket that had been made for me in France and was seriously compromising my left side pannier holder. Good company and wonderful hospitality.
One thing that I think important to add is just how ludicrously friendly people have been to me on this trip. It may be the language difference. This is the first time in a long while that I’ve been truly immersed in my language. I’m also impressed with the UK itself. Having been away so long I’ve heard many a horror story about my abandoned home nation. They’re undeserved. The landscape is gorgeous, the little villages pretty, the food excellent. Even silly things like Lands End were better than expected – although that may be due to my getting there so late in the day there was nobody around.
Other things… I picked up a Montana 700i outrageously cheap before the trip. It’s wonderful to have a big screen satnav and it’s really making navigation nicer than it was, but it’s no replacement for my old GPSMAP64. It has a few glitches I don’t much like and it crashes fairly regularly. But the combination – a wider view on the Montana and more zoomed in view on the 64 is great. Sleeping in the wind shadow of a bronze age burial mound, also fun.