The British summer is a beautiful thing. Unpredictable, it changes its mind quicker than even the brightest weather forecaster can predict, and gives us all something to whinge about in the office on a Monday morning. But it is this uncertainty that makes a ride ever more rewarding.

Last weekend was a reminder of that, of pleasure and reward through determination, on a trip to Cornwall. The weather didn’t look at all inviting through the window as we sat and sipped hot coffee and dusted off the last remnants of our breakfast, but we kitted up and hit the trails anyway. Waterproofs stashed in our hydration packs, it looked iffy; the clouds pregnant with rain – it would only be a matter of time. Or so we thought.

It turned out to be one of the nicest rides of the year. It may not have been hot or sunny but, towards the end of the ride we were duly rewarded for our commitment to hitting the trails no matter what the weather with a beautiful parting of the grey clouds to reveal a glorious blue sky and glistening sun, bathing us with an intoxicating warmth as we entered the last hour of our ride.

After several hours of trundling through the woods of North Cornwall and bracing the wind on the exposed coast paths hugging the rugged cliffs standing taut against the Atlantic, we dived into woodland yet again. The ground carpeted thick with fresh young blue bells, no surer sign that summer is finally here, and the background a myriad of green hues and the smell of wild garlic heavy in the air. And it was probably one of the single finest hours of riding I can recall. A huge grin remained plastered across my face until we eventually got off our bikes back at base.

In this last hour I rediscovered the magic of the British summer, and the quality of riding that is all around us. And it felt great. Who needs to travel abroad when the riding is so good right on your doorstep?