Just When You Think It's All Over

Mountain Bike Ride.

Oz.

8th March route.

The Beast From The East has been and gone, wiping out half our ten day break but today the roads are clear and it is merely drizzling lightly as the bike is put on the roof rack for the first mountain bike ride in a while. Riding in snow is okay up to a point - that point is generally about hub height, when pedalling becomes impossible and even walking has its moments. At Marton, the rain had coalesced to big sloppy snowflakes, by Great Ayton, winter wonderland had returned, as welcome as Gary Glitter at a primary school nativity play. 

Two brave souls pressed on into the wilderness, riding from Great Ayton to Kildale on increasingly sketchy roads, slithering through slush. At New Row, we left tarmac behind and climbed to Percy Cross Rigg using the Yellow Brick Road, snow-filled despite the tree shelter. It wasn’t long before we were pushing - a theme that was to continue the remainder of the day. Percy Cross Rigg was an expanse of virgin snow - soon marred by the tyre tracks of the only two idiots blundering about the moors. Onward and upward - we actually rode most of this bit, tyres biting through the snow to the tarmac below, the off-road section, after the gate, was a different story, old, uneven snow was covered with a new layer of the white stuff, impossible to see a sensible line, it would take better men than us to ride through this - back to pushing for us. We imagined things might be easier on the downward slope - from the wartime relic building to the top of The Unsuitables - but no, keeping bikes in a straight line proved an arduous task, trying to move downhill without actually steering. It was difficult to see where the land ended and the sky began, the sky probably slightly less white than the snow, which, oblivious to the calendar, still fell.

We followed the fireroad across the top edge of Guisborough Woods and out onto Newton Moor, managing to pedal the majority of it. The steps down to Roseberry Common seemed fair game today, snow-covered and devoid of pedestrians, Roseberry Topping only just visible across the common, complete with lunatic fellrunner performing a barely controlled fall down the hillside. On the opposite side, we mirrored his descent but with significantly more falls, hidden holes and patches of deep snow snatching our front wheels, pitching us into the drifts, impromptu snow angels marking our progress down the hill. Continuing along the track from Roseberry Common to Aireyholme Farm, some of the snow turned to mud and water, the lower altitude warm enough to begin a thaw. I don’t think we have ever been so pleased to see mud, our speed may have even reached double figures for the first time today. Despite waterproof shoes, socks, trousers and jackets, we were still dripping from the waist down, mainly from riding through huge puddles. Fletcher’s Farm beckoned us and we were powerless to resist, before long we were pooling water onto the floor as hot drinks made everything right with the world.

The grey sky began to brighten up, patches of blue trying to sneak through as though snow eased off. The snow-covered roads we had started our route on were now canals of melt-water, steaming gently in the afternoon sunshine.