You Call That a Recovery Ride?

Mountain Bike Ride

The Trainee

22nd March route.

Following yesterday’s mini-epic, a recovery ride probably should not have two thirds of the previous day’s climbing in a third of the distance but then again, when it comes to cycling I’m never going to win any prizes for common sense. The Trainee managed to break the Velcro-like adhesion between mattress and jimmy-jams and actually get himself to the start of a ride; he was, of course, the only one. Yesterday’s ‘adventurers’ being of the opinion riding two days in a row is tantamount to hedonism and everyone else just ‘elsewhere’, which is somewhere not involving mud and bikes. We were at Pinchinthorpe ready to do battle with whatever Mother Nature could throw at us.

The usual fireroad start saw us climbing steadily until Roseberry Common was gained, the grassy col between Roseberry Topping and Newton Moor, shouldering the bikes we plodded up the steps to Newton Moor. My legs were protesting after yesterday’s efforts; The Trainee’s legs through not being used since January - kids nowadays. After the usual scrutiny of our chemical plants from the safe distance of twenty miles away, our ride continued across the moor and into the top perimeter of Guisborough Woods, where we ended up - much to The Trainee’s surprise at the top of The Unsuitables. Riding up Percy Cross Rigg and along to the gate where the tarmac starts, we dropped steeply down the rutted track through the remnants of Lonsdale Plantation, meeting a couple of trial bike riders attempting to ride up the track - both stuck in the muddy grooves at the bottom of the track.

South America has came to North Yorkshire, a few llamas were grazing in a field at Lonsdale Farm, probably wondering what they are doing in this grey, cold land.

A gruesome climb followed, up to the gate at the top leading to Coate Moor, where two gasping process operators followed the fire road towards Captain Cook’s Monument before turning off onto the rooty track below Cook’s Crag. Still a little squelchy in parts, we rode out onto Easby Moor, climbing up the track to the monument; time to have our revenge on the track from Gribdale we usually ride up. Not a pedestrian in sight, it was only polite to let the brakes off a little and give The Trainee the benefit of my impression of Danny Hart, the steps and the paved section were despatched, man and machine in perfect harmony; entering the fireroad, still pedestrian free, speeding up, water-bar, pump the forks, let the back wheel follow, repeat, repeat, big hole. Big hole? That wasn’t there last week. Swerve round it, tyres clinging to the edge of the track, curve round to another water-bar, deep, deep, water bar, deep enough to stop the front wheel, cue one process operator on the cusp of middle-age somersaulting over the bars (again) as the more sensible Trainee catches up stifling juvenile laughter at the sight of his mentor laid in the gravel.

Making our way more sensibly to Gribdale, we climbed back to Newton Moor and returned to Guisborough Woods to check out one of the many tracks through the trees made in the dead of night by the trail fairies. A little muddy but entertaining enough, this was followed by what is left of an old favourite called Stripes, which we managed in a halting fashion. Regardless of the brevity of the ride, a painful last climb up to the crossroads on The Unsuitables was not enjoyed by either of us, riding the rest of The Unsuitables was unthinkable, we did a bit of fireroad slogging to finish with the last section of Les’s, which has eroded quite nicely over the winter, a rooty groove through the trees. A bit more fireroad and we were at the highlight of the ride - the Branch Walkway Cafe.

Another Training Ride.

Cross Bike Ride

Climbing Simon, Dilettante Dom.

21st March Route

In a last ditch attempt to get some training in before the clif cross ride on Sunday another cross bike venture across the moors was embarked upon by two process operators and an escaped day person. We met in the car park at Lealholm, which has a toilet block so seedy it would not be out of place in the most run down inner city - The Chairman paid several visits - before 10am, something The Pensioner would never have countenanced, we set off on tarmac, warming up on the hill out of Lealholm. A few more miles on tarmac took us to Danby Park, the entrance guarded by Shrek’s swamp, which was a shock for the day person’s bike on it’s first off-road adventure. Luckily the path improves in the park and it was not long before we were on the road, passing beneath Castleton, making our way steadily to the hamlet of Westerdale, where we had the pleasure ascending the third of the three peaks beloved by local roadies.

We reached the summit somewhat chastened, a little out of practice at hill climbing, to say the least. Thankfully we were able to turn off road on a wide track which undulated it’s way across Westerdale Moor, through the steep down and up at Hunter’s Wath, continuing over Waites Moor and down to pass the picturesque Esklets crags. The track ahead climbs up to the old railway track from Blakey Bank to Bloworth Crossing and is visible from some distance away, a seemingly vertical line dropping down the moor, taunting us. Steep and loose, we hauled ourselves upward, not without a struggle but eventually we reached the rail track and recovered. Somewhat speedier, the road at Blakey Bank was gained and crossed, to pick up the continuation of the railway. Pausing to admire the view over Rosedale, a herd of sheep suddenly stampeded towards us, apparently convinced we were hiding a bushel of turnips about our persons, ovine uproar surrounded us but we managed to force a way through the baaing horde and continue to Bank Top, the flat track allowing us to gain a bit of speed in parts. Obviously the sheep were unaware of Dom’s Bishop Auckland heritage where attractive sheep do not remain unmolested for long.

Chimney Bank came next, thankfully downwards, depositing us directly to the door of Graze On The Green, Rosedale Abbey’s best cafe where a fine selection of tempting goodies waited to be consumed. The scrawny-buttocked one still ate frugally, obviously eating a whole sandwich or something would leave him looking like an anaconda which had just swallowed a goat - not a good look in Lycra. Reluctantly we left the cafe and began the climb out of Rosedale Abbey, the long, boring, drag only enlivened by the ever amusing Bell End Farm, well it always amuses The Pensioner. Thankfully the road levels out before the urge to lay down on the verge and burst into tears becomes too strong. Returning to the more interesting off-road stuff, we took the sublime track past Trough House and around head of Fryupdale with awesome views down the valley.

After a short bit of tarmac, the off-road theme continued with a descent of Glaisdale Rigg, the rough surface battering our arms, vibrations through the rigid forks blurring vision and quivering scrotums. Dropping down through Glaisdale, we continued to cross the river - by the bridge, Climbing Simon would have been swept away like a piece of straw in the ford. A short but nicely varied section took us alongside the river back to Lealholm where Simon promptly dived back into the seedy conveniences, maybe he really has a bladder the size of tangerine or was he checking his phone number is still on the wall? Who knows?

February Video Part 3

February Video Part 3



Here it is.

Down The Mad Mile On A Cross Bike.

Cross Bike Ride

Climbing Simon

12th March route

In a little over two weeks, a few of us are doing the Clif Cross, a mere 27 miles riding around Hebden Bridge and the Calderdale valley but tempered by 4,600 feet of climbing (which reminds me - must get a bigger cassette), it seems some kind of training rides are in order and the ever organised Chairman Whelan of The Cafe Racers plotted some fine routes across our local moors. The Cafe Racers, who nowadays ride less often than The Taliban have hog roasts, were conspicuous by their absence (as the saying goes) leaving only me and The Chairman to fly the flag of self-righteous smugness.

Sheepwash on a fine Saturday is a popular spot, brimming with Teessiders ready to enjoy the countryside without actually losing sight of their cars. Luckily, we were starting early and the car park was only almost full. Seeing as it is a cross bike ride, we began with a compulsory dismount, marching directly up to High Lane via the slabby rocks above the ford, when it levelled out, we remounted and made our way to Square Corner, the car park also thronged, it must be so awful to be a day person, we’re used to having everywhere to ourselves. The Mad Mile loomed up in front of us, we shirked the challenge and took Route 65, the fireroad down through Silton Woods, which is fast, loose and best avoided by wheel fannies. The Chairman was not being kind when he plotted this route to avoid ascending the Mad Mile, it seems route 65 was nothing more than an efficient way of getting us to the bottom of Kepwick Bank, 1.4 miles, 660ft ascent at an average of 9% which sounds innocuous but with several 20%

sections, a gate and some inquisitive cattle roaming loose along the roadside, a dab-free ascent is never a foregone conclusion. We stopped to photograph a Belted Galloway bullock but it proved to be camera-shy and ran away as soon as it saw a lens. The top gate, which opens onto the Hambleton Drove Road, is a welcome sight and The Chairman even permitted a brief breather before heading for Arden Bank, passing through a posse of walkers the size of a football crowd (if you happen to support Darlington). We took  payback for the climb up Kepwick Bank with a descent of Arden Bank, loose and rocky until we hit the road at Arden Hall.

Our next objective: Murton Bank, more uphill torture from the twisted mind of the scrawny-buttocked, anorexic, route planner. So slight are his glutes that it does not seem feasible he can turn a crank never mind cruise up 20% slopes with barely a pant, as I’m reduced to a wheezing snot-monster. The amount of time I spent behind him, his lycra-sheathed, rear end never out of my sight line as he kindly ambled along so I could attempt to keep up, I became an expert on the posterior physiognomy of a dedicated dieter. But first we had to pass through Hawnby and it would have been rude to miss out the tea room, which gave us a chance to refuel before the ascent.

Unable to prevaricate any further, we set off up the bank, never pleasant, eventually it became less steep but still uphill all the way to Sneck Yate car park, on the approach to Boltby Forest, where we turned right and followed a track through the top of the forest and onto the Drove Road. A few miles of big sky riding followed, the track taking us north across the top of the moors, the weather almost pleasant, something approaching a spring day as we pedalled steadily along, big gears and even bigger wheels cranking through the miles until we reached the Mad Mile. Normally a balls out descent on a fully suspended skill-compensating mountain bike, a more cautious pace was employed, at least until the loose rocks turned to gravel and it’s a quick blast to the bottom gate.

From here, a straightforward ride along High Lane, passing Chequers, took us to the woods at Cod Beck Reservoir and a last descent before we reached the ice cream van in the car park. The Chairman declined a 99, obviously the evil calories would possibly force their way out onto his hips and turn him into a Jabba The Hut style blubber mountain, barely able to lumber off the couch and grab another bag of crisps. No such dilemma for me.  

February Video part 2

Part 2 of February's epic video, click here

Winter's Last Icy Blast?

Mountain Bike Ride

The Bread Lad, Uncle Ian

5th March route.  

Heading away from Chop Gate car park for the plod uphill to the summit of Clay Bank, what is hopefully winter’s last icy blast was visited upon us in the frigid breath of a northerly wind straight from Iceland’s chiller cabinets. What began as a little light hailstoning, turned to a thorough, heads down, battering, which culminated with a sprinkling of light snow. Yesterday was a very wet day, all the streams and culverts today fat with water, straying onto the road surface in places, thawing snow from the high moors adding to the flow, the sound of rills and waterfalls loud in our ears as the summit was gained.

Turning offroad at the Carr Ridge steps, which take us up to Urra Moor, we climbed higher until the gate came into view, a little more climbing and we were at Round Hill, the highest point of the North York Moors where we found the snow which had not melted yet, although it was thawing rapidly. Ploughing through wet slush, following a previous cyclist’s tyre tracks, water splashed our legs and feet, running down the inside of  waterproof socks - so that was thirty quid well spent. The original plan to follow the moor top tracks to Stump Cross and it’s sublime descent, returning via Tripsdale was shelved by mutual agreement and we took the track directly to Tripsdale. The usually speedy descent into Tripsdale, today taken  cautiously, sloppy snow hiding a multitude of loose rocks and muddy puddles, lower down the snow disappeared and the track reverted to muddy sand, where we were able to regain some of our usual elan. Smoothly gliding over ruts and rocks like Danny Hart, all we lacked is his skill and bravery.

Resting at our usual corner, where the ascent starts, The Bread Lad renewed his brake pads, eaten by the sand and we watched the water roaring through the hidden valley of Tripsdale, the normally tranquil stream doing a good impression of a white water rafting course. Unable to prevaricate any longer, we began the payback for the two mile descent we had just enjoyed. Two thirds of our party have previously cleaned this ascent but today it did not happen for any of us, ground conditions naturally. Regrouping at the top, no lingering today, we moved  on, less swiftly than we would have liked, into the bitter headwind on the draggy track high above Bilsdale, passing East Bank Plantation and continuing to reach the start of the Medd Crag descent.

Medd Crag was once a an unmissable favourite descent, a varied and technical pleasure chute down to Bilsdale Hall. Following some recent “improvements”, it is now an ankle deep slop-fest, mud churned up by feet and water, previously flowing lines sucking at tyres as we fought to stay on course. It was almost a relief to reach the road at Bilsdale Hall, where our perseverance was rewarded by licks from two friendly farm dogs.

Only a blast down the road was left for us, nonetheless an enjoyable blast. Shortly afterwards we were in the bar of The Buck Inn replenishing our depleted calories with an incongruous culinary fusion of of toasted teacakes and shandy.

February 2016 Update and Video

February 2016 Update and Video

Managed a fair bit of riding in February - predominantly short but arduous mountain bike rides. (13 rides, 246 miles, 5,649 m of ascent). Many gigabytes of video footage was recorded which eventually have been edited down to give a brief glimpse of what old gadgies get up to when let loose without feminine guidance. Not a cushion, candle or shopping bag in sight. Rather than inflict a 12 minute video on everyone, it’ll be released in 3 parts, owing to Vimeo limitations, one per week.

Part One available here.

A few rides went unblogged in February, here are some of the more interesting routes and a few pictures.

Cross biking to Captain Cook’s and beyond - 22nd February

Hamsterley with The Ginger One and The Bread Lad - 26th February

Square Corner and Thorodale with The Bread Lad and Uncle Ian - 27th February