Moors And Shores 2016

Cyclocross Ride

Moors and Shores 2016.

3rd April route

The Fireman.

Stood at the start line, being dampened by a light drizzle, hoping we were not in for a repeat of last year’s soaking, we listened to the safety spiel before our batch of riders were released into the wilds of North Yorkshire, pedalling through the arch, timing chips beeping as me and The Fireman set off on our second Moors And Shores event. This year seemed much busier than last year, driving in a stream of bike racks all the way from Middlesbrough to Dalby forest. A gravelled curve leads to a pinchpoint which split the pack into single file for the initial bit of singletrack. The singletrack fed us into a fire road where the overtakers overtook, fast boys powering into the distance leaving the casual riders behind. Not being boys, fast or otherwise, me and The Fireman, ambled - pacing ourselves for the forty odd miles ahead - along with the majority of entrants; a mixture of cyclo-cross and mountain bikes, cheerily anticipating a day of mud-plugging.

Away from the fire roads and man-made tracks, surfaces were significantly softer than last year, some sections hard going, most riders opted to push or carry in true cyclo-cross style rather than battle through the gloop. The sector behind Fylingdales was a spectacular morasse of rocks, slurry and deep puddles - top marks to anyone who managed to pedal it all. Some better tracks took us to the first feed station and the split between the long and short routes, we had opted for the mini-massif, for us leaving the feed station was the start of a long downhill section on decent tracks, something like five miles of cruising before a tarmac climb brought us back to our senses. The new gearing on my bike made matters a little easier, thanks to Bobby and Chris at Stockton Cycling and Running for a top class job, the road continued into Broxa Forest where the route followed a variety of tracks before spitting us out on a road somewhere outside Scalby. The road was followed to the second feed station in the car park of The Nags Head Inn where calories were replenished, maybe even over-replenished, from a tempting display of goodies.

Replete, we left the feed station, following tarmac to Raincliffe Woods where a muddy, steep, push/carry awaited us, some folks kept riding, they had obviously  been cheating, using structured training and proper nutrition to gain an unfair advantage. The next climb comes after Wrench Green, The Fireman had been trying to remind me of this horror since the beginning but it must have been blanked from my mind, as trauma often is. Although on tarmac, shrouded by trees of Wykenham Forest, following a minor road, it is relentless, seeming to become steeper as it climbs higher, riders were capitulating all around, even within sight of the summit. The feed station sandwiches were threatening to put in a reappearance as I ground to the top, where tarmac turned to fire road and clusters of riders stood around panting and grimacing.

A network of roads and tracks took us back to Dalby Forest, part of the red mountain bike route is utilised at one point, a slightly raised singletrack weaving through the trees, requiring concentration to avoid wandering off the edge but extremely pleasant. A long fire road descent gives our legs a rest, family groups enjoying the sunny Sunday afternoon were ambling along  pausing to glance at mud-splattered wretches making their way past. A cruel final climb is an ascent too far for many people,  off their bikes and pushing like broken marionettes. Thankfully the top is gained, a left turn to a fireroad and suddenly the tents are in sight, a tired pedal through the Arch Of The Timing Chips and it’s all over, medals are draped around our necks and the smell of the catering van is suddenly irresistible. Celebratory picture snapped, mud-covered people with mud-covered bikes all around, suddenly it wasn’t too bad, a bit muddy at the start but fine really, a good event, better weather than last year but slower because of the mud. Snippets of post-mortem conversations, endorphin babble all around.

Will we be back next year - well aye.