The East Devon Way is the secret half-sibling of the South West Coast Path. This 38-mile path starts in Exmouth and winds its way though the East Devon countryside, over hills, across fields and through the quaintest of villages to finish in Lyme Regis on the Jurassic Coast.

If you need some light entertainment, here's my first(ish) YouTube video! Pedalling my way along part of the Exe Estuary Trail in inclement weather.

I don't find it too difficult to plan a bike ride, but I do find it difficult to have faith in my planning skills. I'm terrible for underestimating the steepness and length of hills - last Sunday I spent 20 minutes of a 3 hour ride going up one, incredibly long, steep hill - and I'm equally awful at remembering to let my stomach have a say in the preparation.Every time I go out for a jaunt and forget something, I think, 'the moment I get home I will write a damn checklist!'

This is a trail likely familiar to most two-wheeling residents. It actually stretches from Exmouth on the east coast of the estuary, all the way to Dawlish on the west coast. Exeter lies in the middle of the trail, upriver, allowing you to chose either direction and reach the sea with relative ease.

High Willhays is predominantly notable for its height and little else. To look at, it's not much. It's upstaged by its sister, Yes Tor, a stone's throw north and just 2 metres lower. But its surroundings contain myriad intrigue, and hiking here is well worth the effort.

As Devon bike rides go, cycling the Grand Western Canal from Tiverton is an exceptionally beautiful one. 22 miles and flat, it's a slice of paradise that I'd never known existed.

I became aware of the beaver thanks to the shutter sounds of far fancier cameras than mine. My eyes searched the water and there it was, a brown head, calm eyes and an elevated nose, working its way across the river.

The UK is an archipelagic nation and yet ocean education is nowhere to be found in the curriculum. Is that about to change?

The rain is falling like fairy dust. It's drifting down from the smudged, white sky. The sparrows are chattering, clinging onto brickwork and rattling off calls. One swoops up into the nest right outside my open balcony door. I hear a burst of cheeping, hungry mouths that never seem to be sated. 

Pen y Fan is a popular mountain for a reason, it's not technical, you can do it in a few hours and it's easy to reach. And yet many people hike it ill-prepared. It's not a day for flip flops folks.

We meandered along the club road and stopped to see if any would take off as there were already a few in the sky, gently circling under clouds in hope of gaining altitude. Turning around, we saw a glider streaming down straight towards us, only to steer away at the last minute and land with a gentle bump onto the field.

There are few things more pleasurable than spreading an OS map out on the floor, getting down on your hands and knees and having a really good look. The only thing more pleasurable is deciding on a route and setting off into glorious sunshine.

I’ve decided to get to know my arboreal neighbours. The ones that will offer shelter in a rain shower even if you turn up uninvited.

Haldon makes it easy for everyone to get outside. It doesn’t discriminate. It doesn’t care if you grew up on Ben Nevis or London’s stifling streets, it opens its arms to everyone.