A Bit Breezy On't Tops

A Bit Breezy On’t Tops

Monday 3rd June 2019

The Breadlad.

The start of another month, it’ll probably be no surprise if I say sunny but cold for the weather, the three month heatwave which was predicted is taking it’s time getting boiled up - maybe it’ll begin in October and last until Christmas. I found myself in an unusually busy Scaling Dam car park listening to Popmaster on Radio 2 as I waited for The Breadlad to show up. He arrived only marginally late, which is on the verge of early for him and it wasn’t long before we had ridden to through High Tranmire farm and found ourselves tackling The Slagbag again, exactly one week since we puffed and panted our way up it. Today was no different. At the top a brisk headwind sought to push us back the way we’d came but we pressed on, through Greenhouses and along the road to Stonegate, passing “Smelly Farm”, we are well aware that all farms have an odour but this one is consistently fills the air for half a mile either side with a smell of ordure so strong birds fall out of the sky, only the underground public toilets which used to be in Billingham town centre could compete. I think the farmer must be feeding his animals on a diet of cabbage and curried beans washed down with Vaux Double Maxim. Old school drinkers will know what I’m talking about. 

We stayed on tarmac to Bank Lane before heading down to the River Esk, passing West Banks, an overgrown double-track leads down to what was once a ford but it would require a fairly aquatic vehicle to get through it now. We opted for the stepping stones, hopping from stone to stone on our back wheels like Danny Macaskill on the verge of middle age - no we didn’t, anyone who has seen us ride will know the only time we ever get the bike onto one wheel is just before we go over the handlebars. We remounted and a had a bit of up and down riding, recrossing the river, using a bridge this time and heading into Lealholm, where we considered our options, which boiled down to, ‘stay low into the wind, wind behind on the high ground’. Which worked out okay and it wasn’t long before we were at Danby Beacon, a grand 360 degree viewpoint, taking in the moors south east and west of us and to our north, the North Sea. 

Half a mile of rough track and we turned off onto the Roxby Moor singletrack for a wind-assisted blast through the heather, definitely one of the best tracks in North Yorkshire when it is in good condition, as it is today. The track runs down to a junction of sorts, in the middle of the moor, where it opens out into the more familiar wide, sandy tracks which criss-cross the moors, we took one of these, heading back toward the High Tranmire Farm road, keeping a careful eye out for grouse chicks running about in the ruts, there are lots of them about this year. Minutes later the we were on a picnic bench replenishing our bodies courtesy of the butty van, with the quality and quantity of calories which would make a nutritionist shudder. 

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 Guisborough Woods Shorty

Tuesday 4th June 2019
The Breadlad, Uncle Ian.

The next day I was the tardy one, mainly owing to the sort of drivers for whom fourth gear is merely a concept and are happy to pootle along blithely unconcerned about the thirty cars behind them. We were having a early start today as both my companions, The Breadlad and Uncle Ian, were under time constraints, so it was a quick blast around Guisborough Woods and back to the cars. Our last ride with The Breadlad for a while, his international playboy way of living is taking him off to Canada, where he hopes to emulate Brandon Semenuk on his home turf. Or maybe not. Our ride was brief to say the least, but we still managed over 1,000 feet of climbing in six and a half miles and manage quite a few of Guisborough Woods’ finest trails, so it was an action packed couple of hours with barely any padding. 

My old Santa Cruz has been resurrected from retirement and I rode it today while the Stumpy receives a bit of TLC at the LBS, going back to 26” wheels after several years of 29” then 27.5” wheels is definitely odd, the steering is much faster, a slight nudge of the bars to get around a tree has you smashing into the tree, rolling large drops can leave you teetering on the front wheel in one of those slow motion “am I going over the bars or not?” moments. Best not to get too carried away. After a wending our way through the woods in a most enjoyable fashion, we headed back to the cars - parked at Hutton Village, of course, bringing us three quid closer to The Breadlad’s millionaire lifestyle - where we packed bikes away and pondered how best to squander the afternoon.

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Having A Go At Being Summer

Thursday 6th June 2019
La Mujerita

And somehow we find ourselves at Guisborough Woods again, this time lashing out three quid merely for the privilege of parking closer to the cafe, seeing as the council have exempted themselves of all responsibility for building or maintaining trails. Me and La Mujerita had a predominantly fire-road based ride, winding our way up through the forest on the kind of tracks she enjoys. The Santa Cruz got a day off today in favour of the my old 29’er Stumpy, which, to be honest, is probably in a worse state than the Stumpy which is being repaired but it’ll do for a second bike. In contrast to the 26” wheels from Tuesday, the 29” hoops feel huge, like piloting a stately galleon round the woods, the big wheels soaking up the bumps, which is just as well because the forks don’t seem to be doing much of a job of it. 

We squeezed in one bit of singletrack, the bridleway through the burnt out area at the east end of the forest. Bracken is already forcing its way back through the ashes and charred branches as nature begins to regain control. In a change from the normal programme, today’s weather managed to be sunny and warm, well, warmish, not exactly at the SPF30 stage yet but pleasant shirtsleeve riding. 

Back on wide tracks, we made our way to the concrete road on the Cleveland Way, for a bit of welcome downhill and then followed the old rail track back to Hutton Village, where we threw in an extra loop because it was too early to head back to the cafe. We climbed back up through the forest toward Roseberry Common, turning off on what used to be the original finish to the old Red Route, through green fields of wheat and barley to Bousefield Farm before a rapid descent back into the woods,  half a mile later, we were sat outside the cafe, letting the sun dry our sweat-soaked clothes before the drive home. Correction, my sweat-soaked clothes, I forgot ladies don’t sweat, they only perspire gently. 

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That Was A Quick Summer

Friday 7th June 2019
The Youth.

The following day was also spent in Guisborough Woods, that’ll be three times in one week, that’s a novelty. Yesterday’s pleasant early summer weather decided to take the day off (or maybe the month looking at the forecast) and although it is sunny the wind is like the icy breath from a demon in Norse mythology. Shirtsleeves don’t seem so wise today. We started from Kildale, completely forgetting the cafe is closed on Thursdays and Fridays, so it looks like today’s fuel will be courtesy of midget gems and the triglycerides so magically converted by my thoughtful body, from an excess of cheese toasties and pork pies and stuffed into a handy roll around my waist. And I save on belts, so it’s win win really. Our route took us up The Yellowbrick Road, ridden the whole way today, just to prove I’m not always the fat lad at the back. The climbing continued up Percy Cross Rigg and we got a bit of respite, freewheeling down the other side to the Unsuitables gate, where we met the inevitable e-biker, raving about the benefits of a battery and motor. 

We continued on to ride a few of the weaving through the trees trails which hide in the woods, the 29” wheels struggling a bit with the tight turns, sticking forks and mediocre brakes not helping either but what is that saying about bad workmen blaming their tools? And I wasn’t having as many problems as The Youth whose rear rim was exuding bright green tyre sealant like a Chernobyl bukake party, The Youth had to put air in at the top and bottom of each trail before he admitted defeat and put a tube in. If he rode a bit more cautiously, maybe taking a leaf from the books of us marginally more mature gentlemen, he wouldn’t keep knocking chunks out of his rims. 

Riding up the fire road toward Highcliffe Nab, four mountain bikers came the other way, evidently so far in the zone not one of them could acknowledge our friendly greetings, we probably weren’t wearing or maybe, riding, the correct labels to be worthy of their attention. First time I’ve ever seen people like that in Guisborough, usually everyone is up for a bit of chat and some trail info swapping. We rattled down a few more trails while the wind strengthened and chilled us some more but we were on the return leg now, leaving the woods behind and riding down the wide bridleway along Codhill Heights to Sleddale before reversing the Yellowbrick Road. Continuing down to New Row and back to Kildale, passing the closed cafe, condemned to eat Midget Gems in the station car park, next to the mysterious puddle which never dries up, the puddle close to the toilet block, the puddle which may not be rainwater. 

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