Blooper Reel #2

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Another collation of incompetent moments from the Terra Trailblazer boys, once again proving that we struggle even to attain the heights of mediocrity. As they say in the movies, “No animals were hurt in the making of this film.” Humans however...

Featuring: The Ginger One, The Breadlad, The Fireman, Olly, Oz, The Youth, Trainee#2, Rod and (mainly) me.

Three To Start The Week Off.

Mountain Bike Rides.

17th July route

Benny The Brawl and The Youth.

Benny assured us he knew the way to Clay Bank car park, he failed to mention it involved a detour to Helmsley; when he finally arrived we dragged him straight up to the highest point of the North York Moors, 1489 feet above sea level at Round Hill on Urra Moor. Mentioned in previous blog posts, as highest points go it is distinctly underwhelming, a trig point sitting a metre or so above a sea of heather.

Photos taken, we left it behind and continued across Urra Moor on Pensioner style tracks, Benny’s riding preferences tend toward the geriatric at the moment, hopefully as his confidence improves so will his taste in tracks. Along from Bloworth we rode along the Cleveland Way, taking in the superb double track down Battersby Moor, lumpy, bumpy downhill gravel all the way to the Baysdale Road, followed by a tarmac plunge to KIldale. Minor roads took us to Bank Foot Farm where we picked up the old ironstone railway, a long, slightly uphill, track which displeased Benny to such an extent he felt the need to vent his fury regularly with extreme profanity. We may have found a reincarnation of The Pensioner.

Pausing to look up The Incline, we all said a silent prayer to the fact we did not need to ascend it today; instead the usual roller-coaster fire road through the woods beckoned and the inevitable short but brutally steep bit of road to the car park, which broke Benny. Seventeen and a half miles, nearly all offroad  and only his third ride out - he’s not doing too bad.

18th July route.

The Youth

Yesterday’s decent weather continues as me and The Youth revisit the Rosedale Round, a classic North York Moors ride, which mainly consisted of riding around the valley while I pointed out injury spots to The Youth; “This is where I broke my ribs.” “This is where I broke my collar bone.” Hard to understand on a relatively flat ride. We began by paying homage to The Pensioner at one of his most famous sniggering spots, Bell End Farm, before climbing up onto the old rail track which does a huge U turn around the head of the valley, passing relics of the Rosedale Ironstone industry, which last operated almost 90 years ago. At Ana Cross we paused for snacks while The Youth stared at his phone (again) regardless of the magnificent scenery surrounding us.

The descent from here to Lastingham is the highlight of the ride, today dry and dusty, giving us a fast descent, apart from The Youth, who, unbelievably, stopped to answer his phone. This age of instant communication has a lot to answer for, all these youngsters imagine they are the prime minister or something, every call a matter of national security which must be responded to with alacrity. My viewpoint: if it’s important they’ll leave a voicemail, if it’s not important, what are they doing ruining your ride in the first place?

The remaining section of the ride, from High Askew Farm back to Rosedale Abbey differs in character from the previous wide tracks and gravel, being moorland singletrack, contouring the hillside, through heather and bracken with a few technical rocky sections and the odd grassy uphill drag. Before too long we were back in Rosedale Abbey, sharing our post-ride snacks with a cheeky blackbird.

19th July route.

Benny The Brawl

In typical British summer fashion, two days of heat and the weathermen are predicting deluges of monsoon proportions and it did not look too promising as me and Benny left Great Ayton, heading up into the monochrome landscape, varying shades of grey, low cloud enveloping even the lower moors. We ascended to Roseberry Common via Aireyholme Farm while I give the lad a local history lesson, pointing out that Captain Cook worked here before finding fame, fortune and Australia. I was wasting my breath, he was so far behind I needed a megaphone. From the gate onto Roseberry Common, we shouldered the bike and plodded upward into the gloom, keeping an eye on the time, wary of the forecast, dampness already in the air when we remounted on Newton Moor.

Up and down Percy Cross Rigg and around the Lonsdale Bowl in reduced visibility, Benny had his first introduction to Fingerbender Bank, our name for a rutted and stepped section of track where, many years ago, The Pensioner did exactly what the name suggests.

At Gribdale we decided discretion is the better part of valour and flew down the road to Dikes Lane, Benny taking the lead for the first time in his cycling career, a combination of gravity and foolhardiness on the twisting tarmac. A quick bite to eat at Fletcher’s Farm - on the balcony, in the incipient sunshine, it looks as though the weather forecast couldn't have been more incorrect. We rode back to Great Ayton as summer tried to take dominance, the deluge a figment of the Met office imagination.

Three To Start The Month Off

Mountain Bike Rides.

3rd July route.

Oz and Rod.

The last day of my eighteen off, so naturally it had to be spent cycling. Our little crew met at Lordstones, fettling bikes between showers which weren’t there. The forecast telling us there is no rain in the area, it’s just some random wet stuff falling from the sky, soaking us. Coats on? Coats off? Coats on for the start as we pedal along The Fronts, shedding them at the first gate when the weather reverted to sunny July. After The Fronts we shouldered the bikes up Cold Moor, just so we could ride down the other side. Wet mud overlaying hard ground making things a little sketchy on the singletrack descent. We made our way around Hasty Bank on a track vaguely remembered by Rod, a track probably best forgotten until the bracken dies down. The rain shower which decided to moisten us at this point didn’t help either, pushing through dripping wet, head-high foliage meant we we’re destined to emerge drenched whatever happened.

We crossed the B1257 and made our way to Urra Moor, to follow the track we call The Rim, along the edge of the moor towards Medd Crag, where a bridleway, previously spotted and filed away in the “would make a good descent” file was ridden a few times. I believe the youngsters call this behaviour sessioning; Terra Trailblazers, getting down with the kids since 2003. It transpired Rod had never done the East Bank Plantation bridleway, featured in this month’s MBR, so he was introduced to the muddy delights of the woodland descent, there are parts which never dry out, even in the hottest summer but the rest of the track was enjoyable today. Our return to Lordstones followed a well used route, up the Raisdale Road to Beak Hills,where the attendant Jack Russell’s let us know in no uncertain terms we were only passing through and we’d better be quick about it. Back on The Fronts, sunshine reasserted itself, beginning to resemble a July day. Celebrating the end of a successful eighteen day break with a pint of refreshing shandy while sitting outside in the sunshine, the only black cloud on the horizon - tomorrow’s return to the grimness of the chemical industry.

10th July route.

Benny The Brawl

Another one of those coats off or on days, it was drizzling in a very minor way when me and Benny The Brawl, apprentice extraordinaire left Pinchinthorpe Visitor Centre car park - possibly for the last time now they have tripled the parking charges. Killing, geese, golden eggs, it’s the old story, you have to feel sorry for the guys who run the cafe, it will hit their business really hard. And it’s not as though any of that money goes into the bike trails as it does in other places, the Guisborough bike trails have been declassified, no longer bike specific and not maintained. Moan over; we rode the bottom track, which skirts the southern fringe of Guisborough to the infamous concrete road where Benny found out what a hill is, appearing (eventually) at the top red-faced and perspiring, not so much the recklessness of youth as the breathlessness of youth.

Back in the Guisborough Forest we rode the top track, passing a few old favourite downhill tracks which are still a bit out of Benny’s league. Pausing atop a gloomy Highcliffe for photo’s and sustenance, we later continued to Codhill Heights and a bit of Pensioner style downhill, a wide track with minimal hazards but plenty of visibility. During the climb up to Percy Cross Rigg, Benny began to realise my idea of a one hill ride may have differed from his. From Percy Cross Rigg, I took pity on him and a few downhill miles followed, down the Unsuitables to pick up the end of the old Blue route, past the Blue Lake and into the cow field. Benny then conquered a rocky road - in the cafe, amazing the staff, who don’t often see someone shovelling in a whole portion.

11th July route.

Oz

Is there such a word as rainswept because that is exactly how to describe Birk Brow car park this morning? Along with empty, dull, grey and hashtag british summer. Definitely coats on today, at least the cloud was fairly high, meaning we were visible for our Moor Road start, being at the mercy of Whitby bound tourists until we turned off to Moorsholm on minor roads. Crossing the Moor Road we headed for Dimmingdale Farm, passing the legendary Freeborough Hill and taking a bridleway across moorland to the start of Robin Hood’s Butts, opposite the equally legendary Shaun The Sheep bus stop. Robin Hood’s Butts is slowly filling up with water again, reverting to its usual canal status. We turned off onto the Sis Cross bridleway and rode the superb, if slightly soggy, singletrack toward Danby, we gave the village a miss and headed for Danby Park. At a gate stop, Oz, in true Terra Trailblazers style, managed to fall off his bike before he'd actually got back on it and ended with a fat and bloody knee but he was a brave little soldier and managed to pedal all the way back to Birk Brow via the Quakers Causeway, that much reviled paved trod across the moors. I don't mind it personally and those who complain about are soft-buttocked whiners who ought to be venturing into the rough stuff more often. Just saying like. (A bit of Teesside vernacular there for our Southern readers.)

June 2017 Round Up and Video

June 2017 Round Up and Video

Don’t do words? Video here.

Following the already documented ride to say goodbye to The Pensioner, here and here and the atypically tropical temperatures of The Lakes, click here, the last week or so of June took a definite turn for the worst. Our apprentice, Benny The Brawl, decided he would mark his ultimate day as a seventeen year old by showing some old blokes how it was done in a ride around Guisborough Woods - like many before him -  he soon realised it is a lot more arduous than pedalling around the streets of Redcar. His riding, like his tea making, will hopefully improve. Route.

The remainder of the week’s rides were wetter than the Titanic’s engine room, their brevity a testament to the conditions, or perhaps a reflection of our stupidity. A return to Guisborough Woods with The Breadlad, began wet and ended wetter, literally pouring water from our shoes when we returned to the cars, feeling as though we had been waterboarded. Route.

The next day, mere drizzle was forecast at Danby, so we went to Danby and found the sort of pervasive moisture which somehow even works it way into your underwear. Plus low cloud and mist meant the majority of our ride was in a cocoon. New rivers are appearing all over the moors, flowing down the hillsides, deluging over the grass. A lone walker, the only person we spotted all day, battling against the wind on the Sis Cross track, summed it up perfectly in his broad Yorkshire accent.

“Not a bad day, for December.”

The cafe was warm and welcoming despite us leaving puddles on the floor. Route

Like some type of lunatic cycling otters we rolled up to Hamsterley for our third day in row, today’s precipitation unable to quite decide whether it was drizzle or light rain. Unfortunately not wet enough to keep the midges away. The day did improve in a “is it raining or isn’t it” sort of way, not helped by being too warm to wear coats. Riding down Oddsox, a loose rock leapt up and bit through my brake hose, leaving me to ride the remainder of Hamsterley’s tracks with just a front brake - it can be done if you take it easy but takes the fun out of it. Route.