Mountain Bike Ride
William Sans Amigos
A fine sunny morning, if a little windy (okay, a lot windy) but nothing unexpected for the middle of November, Lordstones car park is completely full as I grabbed the last space, the only cyclist, behind the lines, among an army of walkers. Out of the twenty or so people who can regularly be called on for a ride out, every single one was otherwise engaged on this splendid day, leaving me to ride the ride of the abandoned and unwanted.
“If you are lonely when you’re alone, you are in bad company.” wrote France’s most famous existential philosopher one day when he was philosophising away in his back bedroom; presuming he was not clairvoyant and referring to the mid-seventies Paul Rodgers’ supergroup, he probably meant there is nothing wrong with a lone bike ride. Some riders find the whole idea of riding alone, especially mountain bikes, unthinkable and would sit on the settee all day rather than find themselves companionless out on the moors. In some circles it is even regarded as extreme risk taking behaviour to venture out unescorted, as it were; but realistically we’re not talking base jumping or wingsuit flying, or even talking while the bingo is on in a working men’s club. In the respect of assistance in the event of a debilitating accident, it is probably unwise but the odds of a debilitating accident in a year of mountain biking, alone or otherwise, are lower than you might imagine. And you could always be a little circumspect on the gnarly sections, save them for when you have spectators.
Anyway, alone and unconcerned, I set off along The Fronts from Lordstones, intent on checking out a prospective route for the forthcoming Xmas dinner ride (15th December, all welcome). The Fronts are starting to get a bit muddy, entering their winter phase of puddle and slop but for today the roller coaster fun was still rideable and it was not too long before the bike was shouldered for the walk to the top of Cold Moor, the wind blasting in from the West, as I remounted and followed the enticing ribbon of singletrack South along the broad ridge of the moor, barely able to keep a straight line owing to the gusting wind. The Cold Moor descent is well known in North Yorkshire mountain biking circles and never fails to disappoint, although the boggy section in the middle was today more swampy than boggy and the track was more a small stream in places.
Arriving at Chop Gate, wet and muddy, tarmac beckoned for a short while before turning off at Raisdale Mill Cottages and beginning the climb up to Noon Hill via Barker’s Ridge, like a politician with a microphone, it does go on a bit and is about as enjoyable, but unlike a politician, it does have a point. Eventually the scrappy cairn at Cock Howe came into view, its’ lone finger of stone pointing skyward and it was time for me to leave the broad moorland tracks and head downhill on another bit of sublime singletrack, the bridleway which leads to Head House, a little slower than usual owing to a headwind but enjoyable as always and today dab-free, although only bewildered ewes witnessed this rare phenomenon.
The remainder of the route was a steady pull along Arnesgill Ridge before reversing Barker’s Ridge to Stoney Wickes, for a change there was a tail wind and the broad tracks seemed to go by almost effortlessly. A final drag over the moor from Brian’s Pond before the finish down the old gliding club access track, loose gravel tempering the temptation to let the brakes off for this final descent.
And back to Lordstones, ready to book a table for the Terra Trailblazers most well attended ride of the year, only to find they are not doing Xmas dinners this year. Not popular enough last year apparently; which is a shame because the planned date is the same day they open their Xmas Grotto and Santa comes to Lordstones. It might have kept some of our younger members amused until their dinner arrived.
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