To our writer’s delight, the tent is already up, the food sorted and route plotted on this new camping and cycling trip in the Peaks
Twigs crackle and mud splatters as I weave and bounce through the woods, but my sleeping bag stays firmly fixed to my handlebars. When the GPS points to a hidden path, we take it and discover our lamp-lit bell tent sheltered by a sycamore tree. There’s a flickering fire, a hamper of goodies and two chairs awaiting our weary limbs. It’s a magical sight, especially after 45km of mountain biking through the Peak District. “Glass of wine?” asks my boyfriend Tom.