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.