Gritty And Moist

Hamsterley Forest

Mountain Bike Ride

The Ginger One, The Youth, Trainee#2

10th October route.

Smugly dodging the local rain showers (torrential apparently) by going further inland to Hamsterley, where not once did Satan’s micturition dampen our brows, we enjoyed what turned out to be a fairly standard, if occasionally muddy ride around the Hamsterley Hot Lap. Trainee#2 lost his Hamster’s virginity and The Youth showed us that having more confidence than ability will often end in disaster, when he got the landing of a jump wrong and was catapulted off the track and downhill into the trees. Eyewitnesses did not expect him to survive and were deciding between calling an ambulance or digging a shallow grave and denying all knowledge of a youth when he emerged from the undergrowth like Lazarus or something from a Zombie Apocalypse, with only a scuffed knee to show for his spectacular flight.

The Rosedale Round

Mountain Bike Ride

The Pensioner, Trainee#2

11th October route.

Today, however, the inland plan failed us, rain lashed the car windscreen as we drove through low cloud to Rosedale Abbey, ready to introduce Trainee#2 to the Rosedale Round. The Pensioner turned up, looking gloomier than the sky around us, muttering darkly about going further West for better weather. The opinions of an aged and venerable sage are always to be respected, however this was only The Pensioner, so we ignored him and pedalled up the road, pausing at Chairman Whelan’s favourite public conveniences to answer a call of nature, only to be told by The Pensioner we ought to have went before we left the house. It was like suddenly having fifty years knocked off my age. Passing Bell End did not even warrant the usual geriatric tittering, as we hauled our way slowly upward to gain the old railway line, which would lead us around the head of the valley. Sheets of rain gently lashed us from the right as we climbed higher, the electric powered Pensioner taking the lead, already desperate to finished and in the cafe.

A diversion around the land slip near the start of the rail track took us above the ruined buildings for a change before a diagonal downhill led back to the regular track - an interesting diversion if nothing else. Onward we pedalled, the curving track giving the wind and rain opportunity to accost us from all sides, around the head of the valley, following the giant U turn, through puddles and muddy defiles until the track bed reverts to cinders , climbing gently toward the site of the old station, just south of The Lion Inn. This high point of the ride paradoxically also the lowest point as wind and rain blew across the valley at us, a harbinger of winter. The Pensioner went into overdrive, or turbo mode and left us standing as he rushed along the track, seeking warmth in effort, we followed, at a distance, maintaining a respectable speed in spite of the conditions.

We eventually caught him at Bank Top, where he decided to throw the towel in and head straight down Chimney Bank to car and cafe. After a brief discussion with Trainee#2, a decision to continue was made, reasoning we would lose height and the rain might stop - only  one of these rationales turned out to be correct. A short ride took us to Ana Cross from where we embarked on the highlight of the day, Lastingham Ridge, a couple of miles of downhill which delivered us rapidly to Lastingham, somewhat muddier and wetter than when we set off. A bit of damp tarmac and a bit of welcome uphill (anything to keep warm) led usto High Askew Farm, where the journey back along the valley to Rosedale Abbey began. Rocky and technical in places, contrasting with the previous fast, open riding, our average speed dropped as we negotiated obstacles in the constant drizzle. Bodies pretty much totally moist now, despite a full complement of waterproof kit and bikes grinding and grating with every pedal revolution, caked, like our bodies in mud and grit. Rosedale Abbey getting closer with every panting breath, our only reward dry clothes and a warm cafe. Through the pub car park and onto the lower slopes of Chimney Bank, thankfully downhill, still the dampness continued, determined to extract the maximum amount of misery.

A few minutes later we were in the Abbey Tearoom, wet and gritty clothes divested, tucking into hot drinks and sandwiches, already planning tomorrow’s ride - when, of course, the weather will be better.