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
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
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
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
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.
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