Despite its name, Isle of Purbeck is actually a peninsula. It often feels like an island though, with its seascape vistas in almost every direction. This view is looking back towards Poole's vast natural harbour, second only to Sydney in size. (photo Nancy Crowell)

Long, steep and sometimes rocky climbs are rewarded by meandering, ridgetop rambles.

From up high, mellow views are the order of the day. The Purbeck is a land of gently rolling, almost manicured hills. Its sheep-nibbled and cow-munched pastures seem freshly mown.

Big sunset skies...

...encourage late afternoon rides.

There are campsites, often in simple fields, dotted all across the peninsula. Nancy and I preferred to stealth camp up on Swyre Head, the highest point of the Purbeck Hills, affording views out to the Isle of Wight.

First though, Frisbee Action. As it happens, this frisbee just squeezes into my Camelbak, with the added bonus that it doubles as a plate come dinner.

Then the cooking began, as the last, golden beams of the summer's afternoon clipped the hill tops.

I love a kitchen with some space and a decent view.

Fresh carrots and spring onions came courtesy of my parent's garden, cooked up on the Mini Trangia. To these we added diced ginger, red lentils and couscous, a wholesome concoction that more than satisfied our grumbling bellies.

Along with a handfull of sweet and tasty figs, also homegrown.

Our view, looking out towards Clavell Tower at Kimmeridge, as we dined.

More ridgetop cruising in the morning.

Attack of the Cows: Purbeck's lawn mowers take a break from maintaining the perfectly manicured landspcape to stampede us. (photo Nancy Crowell)

Trailside poppies.

Trailside nap.

The Purbeck is famed for its Jurassic Coastline, its rocks embedded with dinosaur footprints. This is the view below Worth Matravers, just a short walk away from the fabled Square and Compass pub, home to cider and pasties.

A geographer's paradise: the limestone arch and pebble beach of Durdle Door. Here, we leapt into the sea and braved frigid waters for an invigorating swim.

The crumbling remains of Corfe Castle, poking out above the common. The site dates back to the 11th Century. (photo Nancy Crowell)

Bike Club: the telltale marks of battles with oily chainrings.

My rig. I'm still honing my ultimate bikepacking setup, based around a Surly Troll, clad in Porcelain Rocket clothing.

A key ingredient is this PR expandable seat pack - or Booster Rocket, as it's called. It's effectively the modern day version of a Carradice saddlebag, and gulps down a 3/4 Thermarest, Tyvek groundsheet, Black Diamond Megalight tarp and a change of clothes, with room still for a pair of Crocs bungeed below.

The Top Tube Pack fits snacks, a knife, headtorch and a rear LED. Mine has been coolified with a patch from local bikeshop Charlie the Bikemonger.

In my pursuit to carry ever more H20, I'm trying a King Cage adaptor. It replaces the top cap bolt on the stem to provide a mount for another water bottle cage.

Nancy rode this Thorn Catalyst, to which we fitted a Trek rack, integrated rackop bag, a mini Top Tube Snack Pack and an Ortlieb bar bag. No problems there, until we noticed, some miles later, that the bag had been unceremoniously ejected from the bike on a rough descent. Luckily, a kindly rambler picked it up and dropped it off at Swange Police Station.

The Refuel. No visit to the seaside is complete without a portion of hand cut, greasy chips at the local chippy...