Another February Threesome.

A Pootle Around The Lanes With Kendo.

12th February 2018 route

Illustrating the truth in the old adage “with age comes wisdom” Kendo chose the best day of the week, weatherwise, to have a ride out. Duly, I pitched up at his house on a sunny but crisp Monday morning for another pedaling peregrination about the cycle paths and minor roads of Teesside. The Tees Barrage can be reached by cycle path, with only a couple of roads to cross, from there paths on either bank of the river lead to Newport Bridge, we opted for the path on the North side, working on the theory everything south of the river is a bit dodgy. Along the path a viewing frame has been erected, similar to the one near Roseberry Topping, a piece of installation art, or whatever the arty types might call it, essentially a welded metal rectangle which frames a view. In this case, Newport Bridge, some strange contortions of the body are required to achieve the full effect, or perhaps the idea is people crossing the bridge can look down and see squinting, Quasimodo-like figures framed against a backdrop of the Tees Barrage. Continuing in the sunshine, we pedalled past our Nitram plant, churning the stuff out, keeping our pensions topped up and along Haverton Hill Road, still on cycle path, passing current and redundant industry, including Kendo’s former workplace and my soon to be former workplace, the mighty CF Industries. Further on, looming in our right like a great, grey cliff, is the huge shed of what was once the Furness Shipyard, where gigantic ships were built and launched into Chris Rea’s Steel River, sometimes at the rate of one a year, until its closure in 1979.  The whole yard is now subdivided into separate firms, no longer building ships but all involved to some degree in marine engineering, predominantly wind turbines, which are, at the moment, a bit of a  growth industry. 

What might elsewhere be classified as country lanes took us past “the tomatoes”, the vast greenhouses on the outskirts of Billingham, growing tomatoes using waste heat and carbon dioxide from nearby chemical factories. We arrived at the 12th century village of Cowpen Bewley, arguably the home of Teesside’s first chemical industry, the production of salt from the surrounding marshes and took a breather before continuing via a mixture of off-road tracks and residential streets to another small village on the outskirts of Billingham, Wolviston. Popular local legend has it the village was named after the numerous wolves which inhabited the area but more realistically it may have been named from one of two local landowners, one called Wulf and the other Wolvis. Kendo’s bad back, the curse of the process operator, 40 years battling with recalcitrant valves, or maybe 40 years slumped in a control room chair, was feeling the pace and we returned to Norton by the shortest route. The secret singletrack which runs parallel to the A19, normally a pleasant few hundred metres through the trees was a morass of mud and fallen branches, probably harder work than Kendo would have liked at this stage of the route but he rode it without demur, unlike some of snowflakes* who occasionally venture out with us.  

Billy No-Mates In The Snow.

13th February 2018 route

A forecast predicting rain is always correct, whereas a forecast for sunshine can quite often be wrong, throwing in a bit of unwelcome precipitation. Today’s forecast was for rain which is why I found myself alone in Great Ayton watching circular ripples on puddles through the droplets covering the windscreen, wondering if the naysayers might be right about the state of my mental health. Being made of sterner stuff I donned the waterproofs and just for extra kudos, headed into the brisk wind along the road out of Great Ayton and on towards Fletcher’s Farm. The cafe was closed and I continued ever upward, passing Aireyholme Farm, up an increasingly muddy track to Roseberry Common. The wind was by now so fierce the hinge pin had been pulled from the gate post at the top and the five bar gate blown over, twice I attempted to push it back upright and block the gateway but each time the wind blew it over as though it were balsa wood.

The rain, however, had turned to snow, which, although horizontal, was preferable and I shouldered the bike for a plod up the steps to Newton Moor, staggering a bit as the side wind attempted to blow me over like the gate. Back on the bike, a quick pedal over the exposed moor brought me to the top edge of Guisborough Woods and the top of The Unsuitables from where I gained Percy Cross Rigg, which was followed, battling into the wind until it turned to tarmac. Down Sleddale and up Codhill Heights, seemingly a weekly occurrence at the moment, mainly because it seems sensible to stick to more well surfaced tracks rather than destroy the singletracks by riding them in the slop. A paved section of the Cleveland Way, mainly iced flagstones, led me cautiously back to the top of The Unsuitables, where I reversed my route over Newton Moor, to the gate overlooking Roseberry Topping. From here, a choice of routes leads down to Roseberry Common, the distinctly bike-unfriendly paved steps I’d previously carried the bike up; the steep downhill of Little Roseberry, directly opposite its big brother; or the technical track which runs down the north flank of Little Roseberry.

Opting for the latter, I set off through icy rocks and rutted drop offs, a particularly eroded drop appeared, normally it would be approached with some circumspection but I’d been here and done this last week and it was nowhere near as hard as it appeared, so I sailed over it. Or rather didn’t. An accurate description might be ignominious heap laid in the slush laid underneath a bike, a 26” wheel bike. Last week, the 29” wheels of the stumpy had been adequate compensation for my lack of skill and the well documented drop off prowess of said wheels had served me well. Fortunately this lapse of memory was paid for in mere bruises and soon I was back at the blown over gate, ready to reverse my route back to Great Ayton, in the, wait for it, sunshine, enjoying what had became a rather pleasant afternoon.

 Billy No-Mates In The Wind.

14th February 2018 route

Snowflakes* being conspicuous by their absence today, I reasoned I may as well attempt to regain some semblance of fitness in time for the Moors And Shores ride by putting a bit of effort in on the cross bike. Today's forecast promised forty to fifty mile an hour wind after midday, so I got motivated early in the hope of being back before the buffeting. A similar route to Monday’s took me to Wolviston from where I followed the usual roadies routes to Thorpe Thewles, Carlton, Bishopton and around in a loop to Stillington. The road into Stillington was closed, necessitating a diversion back through Bishopton, to approach Stillington from the other direction. Yes, there was signage, it was probably the most well signed road closure in Britain and yes, I ignored every single one, assuming, as is my wont, there is always room to squeeze a bike through. The two metre high wire fence straddling the whole road and grass verge put paid to that idea and I turned into the strengthening wind suitably chastened. Diversion completed, I crossed the A177 and continued to the hamlet of Grindon, ready for the Fulthorpe descent which is normally an enjoyable coda to any ride in the area. Today, the wind rendered it less so, even having to pedal on the downhill sections. 

*Snowflake: (noun, Brit. slang)) Derogatory term for radiator-hugging dilettante rarely seen cycling between October and November in case they get wet, cold or muddy.