Benny Does Bilsdale.

Mountain Bike Ride

Benny The Brawl, The Youth, Oz.

25th July 2017 route

The totem of television standing high on Bilsdale West Moor, visible from miles around especially at night owing to the red lights running vertically up it’s length, supplier of the modern opium of the masses, worshipped by generation - TV, Bilsdale mast, 1,030 ft high, scraping the clouds. Benny The Brawl expressed a desire to be in close proximity to the Teesside icon, we warned him it was a brutal climb. Today he would find out what a proper climb feels like.

We began at Chop Gate village hall car park on another typical July day, drizzling slightly, grey clouds blanketing the hilltops but too warm for a coat. Almost a huge team today - a whole four of us. Some speedy tarmac gave everyone a false feeling of athleticism; this did not last, we turned off onto the private road, passing a farmer spreading a huge pile of ordure over a field, the smell was all pervasive, not unlike some people’s lockers at work. The road rises gradually, peaking at a hairpin bend of about 18% gradient, then relenting to a mere 15% for half a mile or so before becoming shallower to the summit, 1.3 miles in total. My legs felt every inch of those 1.3 miles, Benny did a good impression of The Captain, someone who probably stopped riding before he was born - there are those who wonder if The Captain actually started, such was his ponderous pace. Benny joined us at the top, faint and nauseous apparently, looking decidedly unimpressed by the mast, while we reminded him it had been his idea in the first place. The top of the mast lost in cloud, various antennae and dishes work their way up it’s height, cables the width of forearms act as guy ropes, keeping the all important Jeremy Kyle and Loose Women beaming out to the sort of sluggards who see nothing awry with watching television during the day instead of tempting cardiac arrest riding a pushbike up a hill like normal human beings.

A wide track, newly resurface took us across the moor to Cock Howe where our first downhill section awaited, Barker's Ridge always more welcoming in the friendly gravity direction. We regrouped at Brian’s Pond, Benny remarking on the inclement conditions, meaning damp tracks and the odd puddle, God knows how he’ll manage in December. Probably shave his vagina and take up road riding.

A steady slog over Carlton Bank was followed by a rapid descent of the old gliding club access track, the gate at the bottom provides a NSP (Natural Stopping Point) for us to regroup again, ready for the two hundred metres or so to Lordstone’s cafe. Seconds later we were sat at a table wondering how difficult it would be for our firm to find a new apprentice, as, somehow, Benny The Brawl had managed to become Benny The Missing. A quick scout along the road failed to spot him, a plan was formed as we waited for our food - we couldn’t be expected to search on an empty stomach - which mainly consisted of me riding back to Chop Gate for the car and then scouring the road between Carlton and Chop Gate in the hope of spotting a disoriented youth, while the other two ‘waited’ in case he returned. Just as leg was swinging over  crossbar, in strolled Benny, none the worse for his time alone in the wilds of North Yorkshire, evidently so excited by the thought of a bit of downhill tarmac he’d failed to see us turn off into the cafe.