Damp At Danby

Mountain Bike Ride

25th September 2017 route

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

The return of The Breadlad.

He put on his blue suede shoes and he boarded the plane, touched down in the land of the delta blues, I don’t know if it was in the middle of the pouring rain but he brought a few spits and spatters to Danby with him when he returned from his sojourn in Memphis. It was almost like a reunion today, first ride with The Breadlad for months, Trainee#2 has rejoined the fold and The Fireman reappeared. Our quintet was completed by Benny The Brawl, who managed to find his way to Danby on time and without a detour through Huddersfield or somewhere. The sun did not put it’s hat on to welcome us back, in fact the sun was probably trying new hats on in a land far away because it did not even make an attempt at breaking through the clouds all day.

A straightforward pedal up Ainthorpe Rigg opened our lungs and the drop down the other side was fun as always, except for Benny who seemed to think it was something normally encountered in The Red Bull Hardline and opted for the pedestrian option. Continuing into Fryupdale, we had a quick detour to The Yorkshire Cycling Hub, which is now open and looking good, even the Terra Trailblazers can’t justify a coffee stop after less than three miles, so we continued for a few speedy road miles to Houlsyke. Climbing again, we made our way, somewhat more slowly, up to Oakley Walls, the weather taking a turn for the mediocre, too hot and clammy for a coat but raining lightly nonetheless. We took the track to Clitherbeck, where a shoot delayed us for a few minutes, we stood and watched grouse mainly avoid being shot before we were allowed to continue. Benny seethed with impatience at the 3 or 4 minute delay, a bit strange for someone who can see nothing untoward at spending 6 hours on a Playstation, and stormed off up the road towards Robin Hood’s Butts.

Entering Robin Hood’s Butts brought back unpleasant memories for Benny, part of the worst day of his life but this time he was saved from the physical and mental trauma by a right turn onto The Sis Cross track. A inviting singletrack line carves through the the heather, the usual muddy patches becoming more moist following the mediocre attempt at summer Britain dealt out this year. Everyone enjoyed our slightly damp spin down the track, even Benny managed to look marginally less glum. A quick spurt up the road took us to a puddle-strewn Lord’s Turnpike, the pleasant downhill at the end depositing us almost at the door of The Stonehouse Bakery, where Benny looked at the menu then took the jump in the car and vanish option - it's almost as though he's embarrassed to be seen with a bunch of sweaty, mud-spattered old blokes.