Mountain Bike Ride
The Bread Lad.
Waking up at the crack of eight thirty, opening the curtains to be greeted by a day that hasn’t even got the energy to get light properly, throw in some rain and a bit of wind and you have people bailing out faster than you can say Gary Glitter Comeback Tour. Only two of us realised the true spirit of The Terra Trailblazers and took on the Del Boy ‘who dares wins’ mantra for a Christmas Eve ride from Great Ayton. But not before The Bread Lad successfully negotiated the queue at Petch’s Pies, the shops being shut for a whole day tomorrow appears to have initiated a countrywide panic buying spree, 45 minutes later he joined me clutching his hard won pork pies, by which time the rain had stopped. It was forecast to cease, something our assorted bailers seemed unaware of.
Later than planned but stocked with porcine comestibles, we made our through the streets of Great Ayton and into the countryside, passing the (closed) cafe at Fletcher’s Farm and, onward and upward to Roseberry Common via Aireyholme Farm, a route we have found ourselves panting up several times over the past ten days or so. The sky lightening all the time, we shouldered bikes and wandered up the steps to Newton Moor. The rain might have stopped but the ground is sodden, grassy areas are like riding across blancmange, everywhere else is either mud or puddle. We stopped to have a look at the new track being constructed on the slopes of the moor, a local, pro-mountain biking farmer is generously allowing a track to built on his land, all he asks in return is for volunteers to assist in tree planting days, the next is 3rd January, if you can make it. Link here.
Filing the new track away for future reference, we took in the first section of Les’s, which is holding up quite well despite the various storms which have battered the forest lately. What goes down must come up and it our case it was up The Unsuitables, that arduous extravaganza of upward motion, which is a dull but speedy way to regain the top of the forest. Pausing only briefly to regain our breath, the Black Nab/Codhill Heights combination came next, as did the sunshine, bathing us righteous riders in it’s golden light (if not quite it’s honeyed warmth). The usual speedy descent of Codhill Heights was marred somewhat by the headwind but it was not long before we were making our way along Percy Cross Rigg, splashing through puddles the size of small tarns and passing the occasional walker tempted out by the improved weather.
The Lonsdale Bowl was muddy and slippery, not a huge difference from most of the year, the low sun shining directly into our eyes from just above Easby Moor, almost like a beacon beaming from the top of Captain Cook’s Monument, made descending Fingerbender Bank an interesting proposition, the various ruts indistinguishable, filled with glistening water or shining mud; we made it but not with our usual style and grace. Another downhill track took us to Gribdale and essentially the end of the ride. Only tarmac to Dike’s Lane, then retracing our tyre tracks back past the still closed Fletcher’s Farm Coffee Shop, we continued to Stamps for a pre-Christmas scone two sweaty, mud-splattered trolls amongst the last-minute Christmas shoppers and holiday strollers.
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