The Borrowdale Bash - revisited

Mountain Bike Ride

William Sans Ami

26th May route.

This will be the fourth or fifth time I’ve done the Borrowdale Bash but only the second time the weather has been reasonable enough to include the cheeky Walla Crag start, since that glorious May day 11 years ago when the Terra Trailblazers had their first assault on Borowdale. TTB 20. And Borrowdale has almost won every time. Blazing sunshine, torrential rain and snow have all accompanied our various attempts, today was cool and slightly cloudy, eventually managing to get out quite sunny.

Earlier this year I sunk so low I actually went for a walk, trudging up Walla Crag, in howling wind, low cloud and rain. This came back to me as I trudged up Walla Crag with 31 pounds of Specialized Stumpjumper on my back; uphill is definitely less stressful without a bike. Some enterprising individual ought to start a sherpa firm, employing fitness fanatics who will hump mountain bikes up unrideable hills for a small fee. Just thinking like. Oddly for a school holiday week, the summit of Walla Crag was deserted, not a soul in sight. After a few snaps of the stunning view, it was time for the fun to start beginning with the track to Ashness Bridge, passing over Falcon Crags, this section a perfect illustration of the difference between the North York Moors and The Lakes. Moors tracks are grass or mud interspersed with the odd rocky section, the Lakes is rocks interspersed with odd grassy section, good job I’d dug out the elbow pads, no lovely springy heather to land on here.

A quick touristy snap at Ashness Bridge, then a steady plod up the road to Watendlath Tarn, a spot so picturesque most of the population of south east Asia had turned out to photograph each other standing in front of it. Pausing at the tarn to eat a peanut bar prior to the next hill, I was mugged by a pair of ducks who evidently tax tourists a proportion of their snacks. Puddingstone Hill - quaint name for another unrideable ascent (although it is doable according to the Vertebrate Publishing guide book), the descent seemed easier than it used to be, a bit of trail sanitisation or maybe the benefits of 29” wheels? A bit of more intelligent line choice and it would have been a no-dabber but who’s counting?

Back on tarmac, the day’s main challenge loomed large ahead, literally, glimpses of Honister Pass caught through the trees invoking silent prayers to the gravity gods, imploring them to turn it down for half an hour or so. Some sugar would have been nice, wine gums or jelly babies but both Rosthwaite and Seatoller are now bereft of shops, so I did not really have an excuse to stop, onwards and upwards I went, the bulky MTB frame and knobbly tyres adding to the ordeal. Last time I was here on the road bike and triumphed over the full length of the pass; this time it took an effort of will to prevent myself capitulating and resorting to pedestrianism. Slowly the angle eased, the cattle grid was crossed and it was in the bag, I could see people on the bridleway just above me but I had to follow the road until they intersected. And then it was over, the infernal tarmac was no more, the slatey bridleway stretched out ahead me, Castle Crag in the distance, beyond that the blue of Derwentwater glinting in the sunshine.

Suspension recomissioned, the payback from the gravity bank begin, following the rocky ribbon, bouncing over obstacles, riding through ruts, even splashing through the odd puddle. Unfortunately it’s not all downhill, little rocky rises halting the flow, nature’s own way of preventing terminal velocity. 29” wheels bossed the steep section alongside Castle Crag, first time ever with no dabs, practically cruising over the pillow sized blocks, the gate into the woods at Grange giving brake-feathering forearms a welcome rest.

Reaching the cafe in Grange, things were looking up, weatherwise, almost a spring day, except for the cold wind, still good enough for ice cream and a coffee sitting outside. The Catbells bridleway was next and felt rather tiring after the day’s ascent but the view is spectacular, looking across the lake to Walla Crag, where I was a couple of hours previously. All that remained from here was some tarmac bashing back to Keswick and a welcoming pint at The Pheasant - our next door neighbour for this week.