Those do-we don't-we days

The forecast was not that good, it was another day of 20mph winds but with things possibly settling after lunch. As we made our way down to the beach at Bud there was no wind in the treetops, perhaps we would be lucky. But just short of the beach the wind made itself known, it was as forecast.
I stood on the ridge of gravel above the beach (which was basically another bit of gravel at a slightly lower incline) and I can't say I was overly keen on what I saw. Another one of those do-we or don't-we days.
I decided to wait an hour, followed by another hour.
But eventually the sun came out (which always adds a couple of mph to the top end wind limits!) and as the edge dropped off the SW wind, I headed out. Our Royal Marine neighbours had been sending rounds down the Straight Point range all morning so there was no need to give them a call. I wanted to hug the coast for shelter but I would have to go around, though as the wind now was down to mid-high teens I didn't think this was too bad.
The range came and went, it was splashy but not unpleasant - 2ft and sunny, even the stiff headwind was manageable. I decided now to gamble on a straight line to Torbay. Unfortunately this didn't pay off as the 3 o'clock winds arrived on scene. Things were soon knocking on towards the 25mph mark (I know this as my hat does funny things around then) and there were long periods of over that. Luckily there was no swell and the fetch was limited but even so the steep 3-4ft seas and the constant battering of the wind wore me down.
Once again I banged out to the nearest beach, not faraway but it still took another 2 slogging hours to get there; I landed on a secluded gravel beach beneath steep conglomerate cliffs - truly knackered but impressed by the surroundings. I was glad to get ashore, I had no reserve left in the tank and I don't like that.
Later things had settled down, I was refreshed and more importantly I was now close in to the cliffs. I sneaked my way down the jungle clad coastline to Torquay and around the Hope's Nose, passing Thatcher's Rock as I headed into Torbay at last.
It was still breezy but a lot more pleasant, so I decided to head for Brixham - trying to scrounge any miles I could. Things were quite busy though as all and sundry were heading in various directions, looking for shelter ahead of the imminent gales.
It was a late but welcome finish as I landed by the breakwater at Brixham - I was tired but reasonably pleased how things had panned out in the end.
Tomorrow does not look good.

The Blog seems to have reached a certain level of popularity now. But nothing in life is free of course; I reckon if every visit contributed £1:00 to the cause then we'd go a reasonable way towards paying for the car parking fees that the Boss has racked up since she arrived here a few days ago.

In the Mission Control vehicle the subject of the steep gravel beaches has intruded into the conversation a number of times. They have been impressive and intriguing, can anyone shed any light why prolonged sections of the coastline form such beaches?