A Bit Of An Old Explore

Mountain Bike Ride

The Ginger One. Trainee#2

27th March route

You know how it is, when a ride starts with only a vague plan, which in this case was to introduce Trainee#2 to Guisborough's concrete road, then have mooch about the top of the woods and see what caught our eye. More spring weather, daffodils and dog walkers all over as we left Pinchinthorpe visitor centre behind and pedalled along the pleasantly flat former railway track which cuts across the outskirts of Guisborough. All too soon we reached the right turn which signifies the fun is over and the real riding begins. It seems Greg Le Monde is mistaken with his famous “It doesn't get any easier: you just get faster.” In real life the concrete road gets no easier and no faster. Bikes were winched upward, legs screaming and lungs gasping, our winter fitness gains somewhat reluctant to show themselves today. Leaving the concrete road behind, we made our way, still climbing, through what remains of the woods,

“I remember when this was all trees.”

“ It was only a fortnight ago, ya tool.”

Gradually things levelled out, the track mainly dry, only marred by a few boggy bits which we were able to power through. Reaching a fire road signalled time for a bit of payback, we embarked on Nomad, one of Guisborough's more well established tracks, showing a bit of wear and tear now, not helped by people riding it in the depths of winter. After a short climb back to the fireroad, we set off down a once popular track, which had a lot of hard graft put into it, which is inexplicably overgrown and decidedly unloved, definitely no fun today, ankle-grabbing brambles and small conifers doing nothing to improve the flow. Climbing, once again to the top fireroad, we made our way to Highcliffe Nab and took in the view from the top prior to exploring a couple of promising trails beneath the cliffs.

Moving on to the Lover’s Ledge area, another brace of trails presented itself, after some exploration and a spot of pedestrianism. We all agreed they would be better when our skills are equal to the challenges of the tracks, when the mysterious time called 'summer' arrives. From the bottom track, some collective masochism disguised as “let’s see what’s left of The Chute” had us ascending a muddy fireroad of some steepness; the same fireroad where I once heard a noise like a set of knackered bellows, then a rather large young lady riding a small pony came into view, the pony’s nostrils were fully dilated, eyes rolling alarmingly and it’s breathing would have had an emphysemic octogenarian worried, the rider seemed oblivious. Riding back through the forest, thoughts turning to coffee and comestibles, someone who had not rode 60 miles less than 48 hours previously suggested a visit to the S.O.W. track, which would entail riding back to the top of the forest, thanks for that you ginger bastard. Trainee#2, another dilettante cyclist, enthusiastically agreed and soon the painful shreds of what used to be my quads were cranking slowly up The Unsuitables, the fact the other two were panting as much as me by the time we reached the top was only slightly gratifying.  

At the S.O.W. track, I managed to go over the bars before we’d even begun descending, all the fault of The Ginger One, who was in front of me, going slower than a granny with eleven points on her licence driving the inevitable Hyundai i10 along a single carriageway road. I don’t know who she is but she’s there everywhere I go. Anyway, hitting a small rock, my lack of momentum resulted in the sort of gymnastics people approaching middle-age ought to avoid. Concern and sympathy from my companions was in shorter supply than bacon sandwiches at a bar mitzvah, as they rode off laughing.  The S.O.W. track (Skip Off Work), is worth the climb, steep and varied, a good effort from all those involved.

A couple more trails were ridden before we were safely in the Branch Walkway Cafe, Trainee#2 beginning the mammoth adventure which is a Branch Walkway burger.