Day One - Cross Bike Ride.
Alone
There’s nothing like the feeling of finishing a night shift with a whole ten days off stretching out in front of you, except when those ten days begin with three days of rain. Normally it would be MTFU but it’s easy to think “there are plenty more days, I’ll pass” By the fourth day, cabin fever set in and, despite the forecast for heavy showers, I thought I could sneak in a cross bike ride before the rain returned. Some old stuff and a some new, a bit of exploring byways and highways around Sedgefield, the byways were soggy but (the odd shower aside) the sky was blue. Heading towards home, the sky took on a different hue - metallic grey, like the hull of a gargantuan spaceship, hovering above Teesside, ready to beam up unsuspecting cyclists and subject them to the type of anal probing indignity visited on everyone as a special fifty fifth birthday present. Needless to say, it wasn’t that exciting, just our old pal precipitation revisiting. The temerity of defying the weather gods was rewarded with a thorough and comprehensive soaking.
Day Two - Mountain Bike Ride.
Trainee#2, The Youth, The Ginger One.
The following day, things were looking better on the weather front, the big bike came out and a team was rustled up for Hamsterley. The usual “hot lap” or in our case, slightly tepid lap, was followed, taking in all the highlights; at the request of The Ginger One a few extra tracks were thrown in, which, as usual with off-piste stuff, were fun in a perverted sort of way, particularly if your peculiar perversions include wet roots and mud. The Ginger One’s bizarre desire to let the needs of his employer dictate how he spends his days off has left him unfit, throwing extra loops into the ride his desperate attempts to regain fitness. Trainee#2 found out the hard way wet roots are slippier than eels in Vaseline, making it all the way to the bottom of the aptly named, Route 666 before the ultimate roots showed him who was boss. For some reason he was unwilling to repeat the move for the benefit of the viewing public. The other tracks came and went without incident, the black graded drop off on the Boneshaker extension, where The Youth had his unscheduled air time last ride, has been made easier and we sessioned it like pro’s, except The Youth, who spectated, determined to keep all of his blood inside his skin this ride.
Day Three - Mountain Bike Ride.
The Pensioner, The Bread Lad, The Ginger One, Trainee#2
After yesterday’s almost reasonable weather, things have reverted to grey and misty, we left a soggy Great Ayton behind and climbed up to a winter wonderland. A thin dusting of snow and some half-hearted flakes signalled the arrival of winter and the usual childish behaviour immediately ensued, snowballs fired and snow yellowed. The route was ‘spontaneous’ decided on local knowledge and group apathy until frozen fingers and toes forced us to Fletcher’s Farm where we dripped in front of the fire while marvelling at the amount of food Trainee#2 can put away and the extent The Pensioner can dilute tea with hot water until he feels he’s had his money’s worth. The answer, evidently, being do not stop until all the water is used, regardless of the tea being diluted to a concentration somewhat lower than the average homeopathic tincture.
Day Four - Mountain Bike Ride.
Trainee#2, The Bread Lad, The Pensioner.
Something different today and do we (I) ever learn? The tracks to the north of the A171 again the focus of our adventures. It started so well too, yesterday's snow has vanished, the sky is blue and the temperature mild, a four and a half mile downhill, unfortunately all on road, was popular. Within minutes of leaving Scaling Dam car park, we were in the picturesque coastal village of Staithes, making the harbour look a little less picturesque. A steep climb on cobbles (eat your heart out Chairman Whelan) gained the cliff top path which follows the coast for many miles. The views are outstanding, the track variable but mainly muddy and slippy, not ideal with a sheer drop to the North sea at your left. No unplanned maritime excursions occurred and the lifeboat remained unmolested by old men on mountain bike rides. At Runswick Bay, the path goes across the beach, or would do if the tide was out, we had to push/carry across a rocky foreshore, then climb steeply up the side of a ravine, the pleasure of pushing The Pensioner’s 60lb monster bike fell to me, as younger, fitter, men vanished into the distance. Luckily things levelled off at the top, we crossed a field or two, wandered about a farmyard for a while trying to to find a way out, made it to the road and headed directly back to Scaling Dam, where an unpleasant surprise awaited us - the butty van was closed. Traumatised we sped to Birk Brow, where, luckily, the van was still open.
Day Five - Mountain Bike Ride.
The Youth
Fifth day on the trot, feeling the pace a bit, everyone else has bailed out but The Youth has reappeared following three days of lounging about. We parked up at Bank Foot Farm where he promptly leant his bike against an electric fence, then touched the cassette, learning a lot about conductivity in the process. Nothing too taxing today, we made our way through the woods to Clay Bank, the weather again quite pleasant. The walk/push/carry up Carr Ridge steps never pleasant, Round Hill, the uninspiring highest point of the North York Moors, eventually gained. From here, a steady pedal across the moors took us across Urra Moor to Bloworth Crossing, where we joined the Cleveland Way, heading North with the wind at our backs, eating up the miles until we reached the downhill at Turkey Nab, or Ingleby Bank as the Ordnance Survey like to call it. The downhill is loose and rocky, great fun and leads directly to the car, what better finish to a ride?
