Fun In The Snow.

Mountain Bike Ride

Benny The Brawl, The Youth, The Ginger One

22nd January 2018 route


Sir Edmund Hillary
"Despite all I have seen and experienced, I still get the same simple thrill out of glimpsing a tiny patch of snow in a high mountain gully and feel the same urge to climb toward it."

Benny The Brawl
“It’s just shite. Why are we even doing this?”

Not for Benny the quiet majesty of a snow blanketed landscape, the challenge of riding an ice-covered trail, the giggling slide down an off-piste hillside. Cruelly wrenched from the centrally heated fug of his bedroom, the heroic adventure of his last Playstation game still tingling in his thumbs and deposited in an icy car park in North Yorkshire, the moaning began as soon the outdoor air hit his body. This set the pattern for the day, three enthusiasts spending a lot of time waiting for one snowflake. The Ginger One attempted some gentle words of encouragement, although unfavourably comparing an 18 year old to the world’s laziest sexagenerian cyclist, our erstwhile companion, The Captain, only served to fuel Benny’s righteous indignation. The main gist of his argument seemed to be only people suffering some sort of mental illness could conceivably find fun in being outdoors on a crisp white winter’s day. Seventy five percent of today’s little crew certifiably insane; one voice of reason from the back, attempting to persuade us to his way of thinking with a cunning mixture of petulance and profanity. He failed and we slowly (very slowly in some cases) but surely made our way from Pinchinthorpe to Roseberry Common.

A pleasant and lengthy downhill track presented itself as an option, thinking a bit of gravity-assisted riding might please our pet adolescent, we set off through the snow, control and grip optional extras, stopping at a junction, we found ourselves waiting again for Invisiben, who eventually arrived with a face like a slapped arse. A quick snowball fight gave him a chance to vent some of his anger before we moved on to the Elephants Hole where The Youth gave us a quick demo of his climbing prowess. Returning to Roseberry Common via Aireyholme Farm presented a few more challenges of the steep and slippery nature, not necessarily enjoyed by all of our party,  prior to the climb from the farm.

The steps to Newton Moor were covered in snow and ice, treacherous for those of us wearing smooth soled 5:10 shoes but we gave them a try anyway, this proved to be a step too far for Benny, people have projectile vomited further than he walked up the steps. Hanging about in the freezing cold at the top, it took us a while to realise we were now a trio and Benny was taking his chances alone in the snowy wastes of North Yorkshire. An enjoyable but ultimately flawed descent of Little Roseberry followed, the  track punishing our lack of prowess like an icy dominatrix. The Youth succumbed to one last attack of bravado on the steep Hospital Corner, artfully manipulated into being the guinea pig, track tester by The Ginger One; it didn't end well, blood was shed but only The Youth's, The Ginger One wisely took the fire road option.

We returned to Pinchinthorpe car park and found Benny The Brawl in his safe place, the front seat of his vintage Vauxhall Corsa, listening to what cannot even be loosely described as music.

The First Half Of January.

Mountain Bike Rides

Half the month gone already and a few mountain bike rides squeezed in, despite the cold and wet, a few hardy souls venturing out into the wilds of North Yorkshire for a couple of hours exhilaration before being able to justify a visit to the cafe.

2nd January 2018

Route

The Ginger One, Angry Andrew.

First ride of the year, woke up feeling nauseous, nothing a bit of fresh air after the New Year excesses, won’t sort out. Wrong; ended up having to rest for the next three days. Or it may have been The Ginger One's bargain downhill pants which have reappeared for the winter, still looking like an acid flashback to the 1980's. Struggling to keep up with a dilettante like the Ginger One ought to have told me something was not right but I carried on regardless. We had set off from Pinchinthorpe, the weather damp and drizzly, following fire roads to Roseberry Common, then, the first carry of the year, up the steps to Newton Moor. The weather began to deteriorate, becoming colder and wetter, a rerun of the Xmas Dinner ride as we descended Black Nab and made our way towards Highcliffe. From Highcliffe we continued along the top track, heading for the Concrete Road with the wind at our backs. The Ginger One voicing our thoughts - “We’ve got to do a bit of off-road at least.” Moments later, we spotted a previously unnoticed track leading into the trees, it would have been rude not to. And very pleasant it was too, culminating in the usual Guisborough Woods finish - a vertical drop to a fire road. The remainder of the ride was a reprise of the Xmas Dinner, complete with the Concrete Road waterfall and a soggy rail track to Pinchinthorpe. We made it to the cafe at the same time as the prelude to Storm Eleanor, swaying trees, banging signs and lashing rain on the outside, coffee and bacon sandwiches on the inside. Could be worse.

7th January 2018

Route

Benny The Brawl

What a day to be alive, sunshine, blue sky and crisp air. Me and Benny The Brawl met in Great Ayton, anticipating a day of speedy riding on frozen trails. We couldn’t have been more wrong, despite the cold, the trails were like swamps. Benny, already traumatised from leaving the warmth of his bedroom for the first time since Xmas Eve, seemed to be under the impression a little mud would engender a tactical withdrawal back to his Playstation. Pushing and sliding through the mire we continued onward, past The Red Run and out to Easby Moor, the bridleway, which is unrideable in the summer months owing to head-height bracken, today a sloppy mess. Winston Churchill’s famous words “When you’re going through Hell, keep going.” lost on the lone whine of dissent from the snowflake at the back. What would old Winston have made of today’s youth? Eventually, we arrived at Captain Cook’s monument, glorious in the sunshine, weekend warriors everywhere and gave the drone a spin, getting a few aerial shots for the video. The track to Gribdale was icy and thronged with people, the car park was rammed, cars abandoned on the grass verges because all the spaces were full, one of the reasons we rarely ride the moors on weekends. Benny was evidently beginning to get a little agoraphobic and demanded we must return to our cars by the quickest route, reinforcing his point by speeding off down the road to Great Ayton like a blinkered horse, unable to contemplate being outdoors any longer. When we reached the cars, the weather still marvellous, we’d done a less than impressive eight miles.

14th January

Route

The Breadlad, Uncle Ian.

Another Sunday ride, Me, The Breadlad and Uncle Ian braved a couple of heavy showers driving to Danby, Benny The Brawl was a no-show, obviously not recovered from last week’s gruelling adventure. Just as well, the five mile, uphill against the wind start, taking in Ainthorpe Rigg and New Way would have destroyed him. It didn’t do us any favours, to be honest but it was worth it for the Trough House track which was excellent although our perception may have been coloured by losing the headwind. At the road we turned left and followed the tarmac briefly before hitting the off road track on Bainley Bank, a speedy doubletrack which could really do with being a bit longer. Back on tarmac, we passed through the hamlet of Street and climbed out of the valley to the Yorkshire Cycle Hub for some well-earned refreshments in the cafe. A great set up nestled in Fryupdale, for those who have never been, bike shop, bunk house, cafe, wood burner, big screen TV showing mountain biking at a level slightly above our present skill level but come the summer...

In a fit of what could only be described as video induced enthusiasm, we decided to head back to Danby by retracing our tyre tracks over Ainthorpe Rigg, complete with the carry up the steep bit. The descent from the top, although much-sanitised from it’s previous technicality is still fun and somewhat faster than it used to be. This proved to be The Breadlad’s undoing, he took an unplanned dismount, straight over the bars, leaving him, in the words of Uncle Ian, “ laid on the floor like he was praying to Allah” Continuing more gingerly, he finished the descent, bruised and battered but unbroken.

15th January

Route

Billy No-Mates.

Two no-shows today, The Breadlad recovering from his tumble on Ainthorpe Rigg and Benny The Brawl (again) apparently because he is unable to read a weather forecast, somehow assuming rain at ten am equals rain forever, until the end of time, big boats, animals going in two by two and evolution into a new race of amphibious human beings. His nickname might have to be changed to Invisiben.

Sheepwash car park was a tad damp as I set off on my lonely way to Scarth Wood Moor, after a tarmac climb, the paved descent held a few big puddles and some muddy patches but was still enjoyable. Into Clain Woods and down the wooden steps, a bit cautious on the wet wood before continuing to Scugdale, the stream swollen and brown, funnelling a moors worth of water down to Swainby. Crossing the road at Heathwaite, I climbed up to Faceby Plantation and took the pleasant singletrack through the woods before crossing a field and popping out on the track to Faceby. The weatherman has spoke with forked tongue and an epic shower arrived, eschewing muddier route options, tarmac took me to Swainby, via the Gold Hill Loop road and it wasn’t long before the bike was shouldered ready for the hike back up the steps. The weather began to take a turn for the better, low winter sun breaking through the clouds as I reached the car park. It seemed too nice to stop the ride and not having any of the usual whingers to appease, it was easy to ride past the car and stick on an extra loop.

Kendo Rides Again.

Cross Bike Ride

Oz, The Breadlad, Kendo

5th January 2017 route (to follow)

After almost a dozen years in the wilderness, well, Norton Working Men’s Club, Kendo has entrusted his delicate parts to a bicycle seat and once again joined The Terra Trailblazers for a bit of pedalling. He enjoyed his first ride (TTB 036) in December 2004 so much, he rushed back fourteen months later (TTB 067), for another go and then nothing for the thick end of twelve years. He requested a gentle re-introduction. 

2006

2018

Times have moved on since those early days and most of us also have cyclocross bikes in addition to our stable of mountain bikes, so a pootle around some of the less well-known areas of Teesside seemed like a fine idea and a good way to let The Breadlad have a bash at the genteel but generally muddy art of CX biking. Consequently, a quartet of seedy looking gentlemen, some on the verge of middle age, gathered on a street corner in deepest, darkest Norton on cool but dry day, the preceding forty eight hours of rain had left the odd icy puddle around, or more realistically, the odd bit of dry land between the icy puddles. We pedalled along Norton High Street, resisting the lure of those fine British institutions, Greggs and Wetherspoons, passing the picturesque duck pond and the church of St. Mary, dating back to Saxon times. Kendo has vague memories of being the apprentice hod carrier when it was built.

We reached the Calf Fallow Lane area, an oasis of rurality, sandwiched between Norton and Billingham split by Thorpe Beck, today in spate, brown water lapping the banks. We crossed the bridge over the beck and came to our first test piece of the day, The Stoney Bank, not too steep but littered with uneven, slippery rock, an ascent relies on weight distribution, body positioning and cautious pedalling rather than purely powering up the beast. It also gets you out of breath and warmed up. We regrouped at the top and made our way along a gravel road with more craters than the Sea Of Tranquility and joined the Wynyard road. 

After a little tarmac riding our ragged peloton passed through The Golden Gates, under the ever-watchful eye of the security camera and onto the silky smooth roads of the Wynyard Estate, nothing as plebeian as potholes here. Continuing into the adjacent housing estate; surely the most soulless community in Britain, dead-eyed mansions overlooking streets deserted except for the occasional huge 4x4 piloted by a Stepford wife; we pedalled past the Disney inspired village green, fringed with expensive dormitories, feeling as though we were riding through a film set. Turning into the woods, a muddy bridleway cuts through to the Castle Eden Walkway, recent tree felling making things more difficult than usual but we battled onward to reach the firmer, flatter walkway; apparently the sort of track Kendo had imagined we’d be riding on. He’ll learn. 

The cafe in the former Thorpe Thewles station refreshed and replenished us for the return leg, which took a more direct route on minor roads back to Norton where we dropped off a suitably exercised Kendo and said goodbye to Oz. I introduced The Breadlad to some singletrack which wouldn’t be out of place in Dalby Forest - except for the perimeter fence and Keep Out signs of Holme House Prison. More singletrack, hidden metres away from the cacophony of the A19 took us home.

We had clocked up almost twenty miles of riding and barely scratched the surface of the hidden world beyond the chemical factories.

December Video and 2017 Round Up

December Video and 2017 Round Up

Too many words? Video click here.

Regular readers/viewers will have noticed the lack of a November video - or pretty much the lack of November. The final days of October were marred by an unfortunate collision, not hurtling down a mountainside or carving berms at excessive speed like a geriatric Danny Hart but on a suburban cycle path. Injuries received meant November was more or less cancelled but December arrived ready for a gentle (the doctor’s word, not mine) re-introduction to the delights of offroad riding. The weather did have other ideas, some days it was barely possible to leave Teesside for nine to fivers skidding into each other. The majority of December’s riding featured a view of Roseberry Topping, including the less than clement Christmas Ride - the highlights of which were dry clothes and hot food, the ride itself was a trifle damp and slightly cooler than ideal.

As for the whole of 2017, it must be said it was a pretty good year, as well as the usual local rides there were several successful and enjoyable trips away, most notably the Terra Trailblazers’ first venture to foreign climes when 4 of us went to Fuengirola in southern Spain with Sierra Cycling for a few days dry and dusty riding. 

A week long trip to Keswick, in the Lake District saw atypical Lakes weather and a few days were probably hotter than when we were in Spain. Luckily our rented house is next door to a pub, so rehydrating at the end of rides with cold lager became virtually mandatory. 

The weather gods were kind to us again in Scotland and we had a trip to Glentress in unheard of temperatures for The Borders - approaching 30 celsius at some points. Hot nights sleeping in sheds with a bunch of methane machines, at least we could leave the doors open. Belhaven Best has a lot to answer for.

The most memorable and poignant ride of 2017 had to be The Pensioner’s Ashes when we fulfilled Bob’s wish by riding his very own Nidderdale route and scattering his ashes at the furthest point. I’m not ashamed to say a few tears were shed, although that may have been just ash in the eyes. It even got it’s own movie. We found a worthy replacement for The Pensioner with a hulking brute of a teenager, cantankerous, opinionated, complaining and unable to have a thought in his head that doesn’t eventually come blurting out of his mouth - step forward Benny The Brawl. What he lacks in years he makes up for in dogmatism.

Me and The Fireman did our usual two cyclocross events, The Moors And Shores in April and The Lakeland Monster Miles in October, either we’re getting older or they are getting harder, it must be the latter, the routes are longer and more hills are creeping in but liked the dogged old mules we are, we just keep on turning the pedals. 

Oddly enough, one of the year’s major highlights came a little closer to home with the opening of K Line in Hamsterley Forest, arguably a pinnacle in the art of trailbuilding, a superb, swooping, non-technical trail; deceptively fast, as the regular air ambulance landings will testify, but a satisfying blast and a great addition to the usual Hamsterley hot lap.

And what will 2018 bring? For me a welcome lack of gainful employment, hopefully less accidents and more trips away interspersed with lots of riding on our local North York Moors. Is it too much to ask?