Another Couple Of Days Successfully Wasted.

Another couple of days successfully wasted, not a lawn mowed, wall papered or door painted - mountain bikers are definitely not husband material, nobody can accuse of being B&Q boys, those lifeless, dead-eyed, zombies prowling the aisles with a tape measure clipped to their belts and a houseproud biddy whining in their ear. It’s now getting toward the end of our ten days off and Benny’s five ride pledge is still hovering around the one ride mark, the chances of him squeezing four rides into the two days of freedom remaining are less than the chance of Oz leaving a tip in the cafe. It’s never going to happen. Better make these two days count then.

Mountain Bike Ride.

Rod, Andy T., Trainee#2, Benny The Brawl, The Ginger One.

18th October route

We found ourselves at Hamsterley again for the first ride, some of us just about recovered from the Lakeland Monster Miles on Sunday, we were with Rod, who has a superior knowledge of the off-piste tracks in the woods at Hamsterley and we were happy to follow his suggestions. The Ginger One tore himself away from CF Industries long enough for a ride. Our little posse climbed up by the Skills Loop, having a little go on the see-saw before carrying on upward until we reached the aptly named Windy Bank Road. From here we rode a brief track down through the woods, only to retrace our tracks back to Windy Bank road and off down another old favourite which may or may not be called Soul Train, after the usual leaf covered weave through the trees, the route is split by a deep trench, known to one and all as The Bombhole. Attempts were made by most of us to ride in and out again up and down the steep slopes: some attempts  may have been more successful than others and some of us have the bruises to prove it.

Section 13, our next objective was reached by the steep hill from the old Descend cabin and despatched with the usual mixture of style, aplomb and pure good luck. In a departure from the normal programme, we followed the red route from the huts and approached Polties via some more off piste, again surprisingly dry in the woods. The quality quintet of Polties, K Line, Transmission, Accelerator and Nitrous took us down to the valley bottom in fine style. Popular and weatherproof, this is what can be achieved when there is some investment in trails - take note Guisborough. Benny finally managed to get two wheels off the floor on the start of Transmission, phat air stylee,  just like a young person, he’s shaping up alright on the man-made trails too, thanks to our special coaching, (profanity and abuse mainly). The less said about his prowess on the off piste stuff the better.

A bit of a communication breakdown meant we rode The Grove Link back to the car park as a duo, while the remainder of the team went elsewhere. We all ended up in the 68 Cafe however, which is the highlight of the ride.

Mountain Bike Ride.

Rod, Trainee#2, Benny The Brawl.

19th October route

The next day saw a reduced squad congregating in the car park at Sheepwash, popular with many Teessiders because they can actually be in the countryside without losing site of their cars, not so busy today as the forecast for later in the afternoon was slightly dodgy. Benny managing to turn out for the third time in ten days, plus Rod and Trainee#2. Setting off, our quartet followed the shore of the reservoir before climbing up through the woods to High Lane. A steady pull to Square Corner, then Silton Woods for the downhill track, still surviving after a fashion, although a world away from the groomed pistes of Hamsterley; rocks, roots and mud, giving us all a different sort of mountain biking experience from yesterday. At least the shonky wooden bits have been removed, jumps made from kindling and old pallets, constructed with good intentions but mainly serving to antagonise the landowners. A fallen tree at the exit of the trail initiated a spot of pouting from Benny The Brawl, along the “this is not mountain bike riding” lines, all for a detour of around twenty metres, through brush and brambles.

Some tarmac took us to Kepwick and it’s infamous bank, this definitely sorted the men from the boys and finishing positions were sorted by age, with the oldest first, a disgruntled Benny bringing up the rear, grumbling in general about North Yorkshire topography - apparently all my fault, as if I’m responsible for every hill we ride up and specifically, the weather which, for once, conformed to the forecast and was raining lightly. At least the wind would be behind us all the way home, a bit of fine route planning which did nothing to cheer up the juvenile contingent who view bad weather the way our generation might view nuclear fallout. The wind assistance pushed us to the Mad Mile which we descended in fine, if somewhat incautious, style, the weather keeping the ramblers and dog walkers where they belong. Wet but happy we reached the gate at the bottom, even Benny had cheered up a bit.

"This is not mountain biking" 

We retraced our tyre tracks back along High Lane, psyched for a descent of the slabs which lead to the ford at Sheepwash. The geezer in the front (despite approaching middle age) successfully negotiated the slabby drops only for a spot of imprudent braking in a loose gully to throw  him over the handlebars; blood was spilt but the bike survived with barely a scratch. Not that another scratch would be noticeable.

Living the dream.

Arriving back at the car park, drenched through and in one case dripping blood, a three to one decision saw us eschewing the cafe in favour of warmth and dryness, much to the disgust of Trainee#2. The spirit of The Pensioner, for whom the cafe was the most important component of any ride, was channelled by the mediumship of Trainee#2 who sped from car park in a flurry of opprobrium and abusive gestures.

Lakeland Monster Miles 2017

Cross Bike Ride.

The Fireman

15th October route

A wet weekend in Keswick is not an uncommon occurrence but Keswick excelled this weekend, managing to precipitate for the majority of the four days we were there. The weather gods must have admired our tenacity because they rewarded us with a weather window for this year’s Lakeland Monster Miles, the sun even put in an appearance.

The start line was moved to the other end of Fitz Park, to the more solid ground of the council car park, there were fears the sodden sward at the museum end would suffer from the feet and tyres of 850 cyclists. Me and The Fireman joined the lengthy queue, waiting for our turn in the exit cache and the safety briefing, which concentrated this year on the numerous route changes owing to ground conditions. The long route had been cancelled and everyone found themselves doing the mini massif. A few blows of the horn and we set off to a symphony of beeping timing sensors, adrenalised riders jockeying for the front even before we had left the car park, perhaps eschewing pacing because it is only a measly fifty miles. Older and lazier wiser, we pedalled through early morning Keswick, deserted apart from a few hundred cyclists and climbed up to the Castlerigg Stone Circle, the first ascent of the day thinning out the riders before we plummeted down to Threlkeld. Normally the start is much more amenable, along the old railway but some of the bridges are still down following the 2015 floods. The next part of the route remains unchanged, from Threlkeld to Scales, then on the gated road to Mungrisedale, before turning north to Mosedale, following the gently climbing road beside Carrock Fell to Calebreck and an unexpected food stop, in the even more unexpected sunshine.

A quick sugar hit and we were off again, venturing off road on a rocky mining track which climbs forever upward, through a couple of splash and dashes, which this year were more walk and wade. Eventually, a welcome downhill arrived, disappointingly it was too muddy for the speedy, swooping descent we imagine is our usual style. Green is grip: brown is slip, arms aching from braking, slithering through squelching grass, we proceeded downward somewhat slower than we went up it seemed. A mixture of tracks and tarmac took us to the second food stop, where we sat and watched some of the hares who had zipped past in Keswick staggering in.

We were sure Setmurthy Woods would not be included owing to the ground conditions: we were wrong. The usual finish, from the woods, down Watch Hill was not included, instead diverting through the woods on a fire road which climbed interminably through an unchanging landscape of green trees, grey gravel and panting cyclists. The road through Cockermouth came as relief, even the long drag on the B5292 seemed amenable. More climbing took us to the outskirts of Wythop Mill, where, we ascended some more to Wythop Woods, where the route reverted to fire road, beginning with a steeply descending and loose track, complete with whistle-blowing marshall and riders choosing the discretion over valour option. The novelty of ascending had long since worn off, our discretion may have been left behind somewhere near Over Water, the excitement of speeding over sketchy ground was soon dissipated by a cruel trick of memory. I was sure it was downhill all the way to the shores of Bassenthwaite from here but no, every bend revealed a new hill, grinding the pedals around in grim circles we plodded onward and upward, an asteroid strike or nuclear holocaust was beginning to feel as though it would come as welcome relief, the descent finally arrived and caution was again thrown to the proverbial as the limits of skinny tyres were tested on the bends, skittering over gravel, finally exiting the woods mud-splattered, drenched but happy the end was in sight.

The thought of only a few flat miles between here and Keswick livened us up better than any gels could manage, just as well because finding a part of my body that did not ache was becoming difficult. Legs aching from pedalling, arms, shoulders and back suffering from gripping the bars, an actual bruise on the palm of one hand from the rocky battering it took on some of the tracks. At Portinscale, the compulsory dismount for the suspension bridge came as a shock, cramping legs having their first go at walking for a few hours. Minutes later we were riding through the blow up arch and I was collecting my fifth Monster Miles finisher’s medal.

The medal felt hard earned, the ride more difficult than previous years, no doubt due to my lack of practice at long routes lately but my Garmin tells me the amount of climbing in the mini massif has increased by well over 500 feet from previous years. Shortly after arriving back at our rented house the Keswick weather reverted to type, heralding the arrival of storm Ophelia, it didn’t matter, pubs make the best umbrellas.

The Ten Day Breaks Have Recommenced.

The Ten Day Breaks Have Recommenced.

Despite heralding the approach of winter, the first ten day break after the summer period is always as eagerly anticipated as an eighteen day break. Knowing we're only incarcerated twelve days a month and have the remainder to go out and play makes the season of mists and mellow muddiness bearable. The first batch of riding days was planned out, Benny The Brawl opting for an unprecedented five days out of ten, plotting to get fit and show the old blokes a thing or two.

Mountain Bike Ride.

The Breadlad.

11th October 2017 route

Benny’s enthusiasm faltered at the first hurdle when he was too tired to turn up at for our first ride, Great Ayton, texting some unlikely tale of being awake all night. That just left me and The Breadlad and a bit of route rescheduling, now we didn't have a gigantic teenager moaning about tree roots and steep, muddy tracks. The few miles of ascent we began with wouldn't have suited him either, we weren't that keen to be honest but plodded up to the top of The Unsuitables, The Breadlad hampered by a binding brake which gave him a bit of an extra workout.

From The Unsuitables, a foray into less-travelled conifers seemed like a plan, so a slow pedal into the wind took us to some trails around the FloRida area. Surprisingly muddy in the trees to begin with but things improved as we made our way down, weaving between trees on a blanket of pine needles. Crossing a fire road, the track continued onto a recently felled area; the trail had not survived the clearance, soon deteriorating to a tangled mass of branches, brambles and swampy puddles. Against our better judgement we carried on, quite literally carrying at some points until a fire road we recognised came into view. Back in more familiar territory, an enthusiastic but ultimately style-less descent of Stripes followed, before we climbed back up into the forest and made our way, via a couple more off-piste tracks to Roseberry Common for the varied descent around the side of Roseberry Topping, joining Brant Gate, to the road by the car park. The car park of nocturnal assignations between canine walkers.  Or so I've heard. Time constraints saw us pedalling down the road, directly to the most important part of the ride - Stamps cafe, followed by a pie from Stokesley Butchers.

Mountain Bike Ride

Benny The Brawl, The Fireman, The Breadlad, Trainee#2, The Youth

12th October route

The next day saw a better attendance probably because it was Hamsterley and a chance to ride down the mighty fine line that is the K-Line line (to paraphrase Lonny Donegan). Benny The Brawl staged a recovery, The Breadlad was spotted mingling with paying customers in the car park, The Fireman joined us, along with Trainee#2 and The Youth came along to reduce the average age of our posse to below forty years.

Our route was the usual Hamsterley hot lap with some off piste variations, away from the official tracks it is still surprisingly dry in the woods, a few muddy puddles about but all rideable. Benny is beginning to improve due to our 'coaching’ which is predominantly a combination barracking, abuse and encouragement and the ever-present possibility of £250 from You've Been Framed. It won’t be long until he reaches the same standard of mediocrity as the rest of us. We managed to break some kind of slowness record, over four hours out to do less than thirteen miles, without accident, puncture or mechanical, it's difficult to explain where the time went but we were having fun so it didn't matter. Especially seeing as the 68 Cafe has began staying open a bit later.

September 2017 Round Up and Video

September 2017 Round Up and Video

Video click here

A month of few rides unfortunately, mainly owing to a bit of much needed rest and recuperation by the Black Sea, Guisborough, Danby and Hamsterley were the venues for the three mountain bike rides we managed. Oddly enough, as we embark once again on that slightly cooler but equally wet and muddy season called autumn, more riders are returning from whatever pastime they have been indulging over summer and returning to the world of fat tyres, profanity and incompetence we call the Terra Trailblazers.

Highlight of the month, if not the year, has to be our mass trip to try the new route at Hamsterley - K Line - an awesome addition to our usual Hamsterley Hot Lap. Swooping berms, floaty jumps and tabletops whizzing along in a blur of grey track and green trees. Well, whizzing along as fast as someone on the verge of middle-age can manage.