CX Biking With The Cafe Racers.

CX Bike Ride

The Fireman, Simon W., Adam R., Dom, Rich

22nd September route

Another ride out with the remnants of the mighty Cafe Racers, for once taking the hint, dragging out their cyclo-cross bikes and venturing on to the rough stuff, rather than the silky smooth tarmac their hearts’ desire.The relative popularity of off-road riding against the tedium of tarmac cannot be denied, Terra Trailblazers’ mountain bike rides being rather better attended than the Cafe Racer’s spurious outings. Although they did scrape together half a dozen attendees for this ride, must be something to do with the route planning, which cunningly avoids any major hills unlike the deviant ascent orgies beloved of Chairman Whelan. The starting group rapidly became five as The Fireman realised he had forgotten his shoes and sped off home to collect them, arranging to meet us further on.

Leaving Ingleby Greenhow behind, pleasant country lanes led us through Kildale to Percy Cross crossroads, where we turned right for Kildale moor and dragged ourselves up a large hill, included primarily to assuage the chairman’s perverted lust for gravity defiance. More tarmac brought us to the oddly named Fowl Green, near Commondale, where our ‘gravel’ bikes began to justify their existence on the gentle bridleway past Box Hall and its continuation through Danby Park. There was a little churlish muttering from certain parties, unaccustomed to the buttock-battering properties of rigid bikes and gravel but they loved it really.

The Fireman rejoined us at Danby and The Chairman was compelled to sample the public convenience, as an appeasement for missing out on his favourite toilets at Rosedale Abbey. Ablutions complete, we made our way to Fryupdale, via Ainthorpe and Danby Castle, returning to offroad riding at Stone Beck Gate Farm, following the low level bridleway through fields. The lumpy grass and rocky ruts sorted the men from the boys, our average speed suffered, bikes became manure magnets and blood was drawn at one point. A very sketchy cattle grid marked the end of this sector, where we regrouped and relaxed with a few more miles of road riding, although the second hill of the ride - Glaisdale Rigg - might not be considered particularly relaxing. This route having being planned by a bone-idle process operator, Glaisdale Rigg was also the last hill of the ride, taking us up to the Cut Gate track, which curves magnificently round the head of Fryupdale to Trough House. Wholly offroad and lately sanitised beyond recognition, it’s nowadays predominantly a gravel track, with the odd rocky section, ideally suited to cross bikes but a far cry from the technical rock festival it was a few years ago.

Trough House came and went, soon afterward we were in the exceptionally full Lion Inn ordering lunch surrounded by ramblers and day trippers, sweaty Lycra ensuring our personal space was not invaded. A table cleared, we jumped in and awaited our grub, which arrived fairly promptly, considering how busy the place was. Fed and watered, we eventually reached a point beyond prevarication and swung weary legs back over cross bars, mid-afternoon but already a chill in the air, the weather is taking a turn towards autumnal after beginning as the warmest September since the world began turning (or something). The remaining ten miles or so of our route were more amenable than the first thirty. From The Lion Inn, we rode to the old Rosedale Railway track and followed its meandering course across the moors to the old crossing at Bloworth, the wooden crossing still visible through the soil after all these years. There were cottages here once and a crossing keeper whose job it was to open the crossing twice a day - a bit overworked by process operator standards; apparently it was an unpopular posting, the whole area nicknamed Siberia on account of the fact there could still be snow in May.

No snow today, just a bit of late-summer sunshine as we continued on the railway to the Ingleby Incline, which plummets (quite literally) down the hillside before levelling out and continuing to Bank Foot Farm. Chairman Whelan’s depravity normally compels him to ride up the incline, so today was something of a novel experience for him. Well, for most of us really, especially on skinny tyre bikes, done it plenty of times on the mountain bike, scene of my personal land speed record, 47.6 mph, if you must know. We didn’t even approach that sort of speed today, discretion, valour and all that, instead simply enjoying the cruise down to Bank Foot.

Another mile or so on tarmac and we were back at Ingleby Greenhow and able to rest our aching limbs - except for The Fireman who still had to make his way back to Danby, purist that he is, he declined offers of a lift and pedalled off into the afternoon sunshine.