Bollocks To Christmas

Mountain Bike Ride

Benny The Brawl, The Breadlad, The Youth

24th December route

It’s the time of year when the majority of the “christian” world completely lose their shit and throng the shops and car parks in celebration of being let loose from the usual nine to five existence. Give a day person a day off and the first thing they’ll do is head to a retailer, apparently shopping is now considered a leisure activity rather than a grim necessity to be endured while imagining all the better places we could be. After several days of attempting to thread a way through aisles packed with manic shoppers determined to make it the best christmas ever by panic-buying anything which can be consumed and a home-life consisting of the expungal of every trace of pre-christmas existence by hiding anything not featuring  tinsel or glitter. Christmas eve has finally rolled round signalling the beginning of the end and the gratifying feeling that in two days it will all be over. In a quest to separate ourselves from the rapacious hordes, a few of us decided being wet, cold and muddy would be preferential to an ill-tempered trudge around another supermarket.

Me, The Youth, Benny The Brawl and The Breadlad met up at a surprisingly well-filled Gribdale car park, plenty of like-minded folks about, well, almost like-minded - mountain bikers were conspicuous by their absence - all prepared to brave the dull, drizzly day and  tree-bending wind. Unseasonably warm temperatures have left the tracks in a predictable state, gloopier than medieval midden after a plague of dysentery. This, plus the wind, a muddy car park and actually being outside his bedroom, put Benny The Brawl into an epic rage, riding the rutted track across Great Ayton Moor while being blown sideways into the ruts, raised his blood pressure to the level which would put us blokes teetering on the verge of middle-age in an electric bed surrounded by nurses and beeping machines. Reasonably flat ground calmed him down a little and we continued around the Lonsdale Bowl with tailwind assistance, although he didn’t seem to find the water splash as enjoyable as everyone else, using some very unchristian language this close to Jesus’s birthday.

A quick scoot along the Percy Cross Rigg tarmac and up Codhill Heights took us to Guisborough Woods, where we decided to sample the full force of the wind by continuing to the top of Highcliffe Nab. We almost came close to the mythical £250 from You’ve Been Framed when The Youth’s lightweight body proved unequal to the strength of the wind which blew him steadily toward the cliff’s edge; a hurried dismount robbed us of £250. The novelty of being buffeted wore off eventually and we cycled through the woods back to Roseberry Common and took the steps to Newton Moor. The weather took a turn for the worst and The Breadlad modelled the latest in waterproof fashion, digging out his Niagara Falls ponchos: who needs Gore Tex? Retracing our tyre tracks around the Lonsdale Bowl and Fingerbender Bank, finishing, without further incident, down the steep hillside back to Gribdale car park. After some hesitation, Benny rode it like a pro, probably down to our special coaching, which mainly consists of profanity, shouting and casting doubts on his sexuality. We kept the camera rolling, just in case, you can never have enough blooper reel footage.