Seeing as some of us spent the first week of May in Southern Spain, (details here) riding dry, dusty trails in the sunshine, the remaining three weeks were going to have to come up with something spectacular to top it. Realising it had been totally outclassed, the weather put in half-hearted effort, dazzling us with sunshine but like a dad with the thermostat, keeping the heat down because it didn't want to spoil us. Still, nothing was too bad it kept us from the bikes, even the few wet days weren’t enough to dampen our enthusiasm, or the trails, which are in perfect condition. (Mainly).
Very Quiet For A Bank Holiday
Monday 27th May 2019
The Breadlad, Rod, Jeff.
Riding on a bank holiday, there's a novelty. In anticipation of all our usual parking spots being inundated with day people driven giddy by the excitement of three whole days off, we parked in a large lay by on the outskirts of Castleton. We needn't have worried, the temperature has dropped ten degrees since Friday and it's the quietest Bank Holiday we've had for a while. We stood shivering for a while, three of us waiting for the time-challenged but airmiles-rich Breadlad to turn up. Why is it always the case that the one who lives closest turns up last.
As the day progressed towards winter, he eventually turned up and we warmed ourselves by riding up the road to the Shaun The Sheep bus stop and continuing with a wind assisted trundle along Robin Hood's Butts. The usual large puddles where present to skirt around but it was a bit drier than usual. At the Sis Cross bridleway we turned right and followed the splendid singletrack down to the road above Danby. There was one patch of mud on the whole track, which I managed to find and splatter all over my legs, so I could look like a proper mountain biker. A bit of road/track/road took us from Clitherbeck to Danby Beacon where we stopped for a breather and a shiver in the fresh wind before moving on to the Roxby Moor track, a variety of trails, cutting through the heather, which head across the moor on narrow, rutted doubletracks, gradually downward, as speedy as you dare. At Hardale Beck, the “ford” has expanded to become a deep pool in the middle of the stream and no-one rode through it, all preferring to save our energy for the ascent of on the other side, The Slagbag, a steep slope of grass and gravel which saw a quartet of dab-free ascents today. Another mix of tarmac and off-road riding brought us to Lealholm where, in contrast to last time we were here on a Bank Holiday, we were able to sit and eat our pies on an otherwise deserted village green. Last time it was rammed.
Filled with unhealthy but delicious baked goodness we pottered along the road towards Danby, turning off to cross Duck Bridge and climbing to Danby Castle. After a quick breather, we followed the road toward Fryupdale, turning off on the grassy track up Ainthorpe Rigg, legs feeling the pace a bit now as we clocked on towards the twenty mile mark. Our successes on The Slagbag were not replicated and everyone ended up as a pedestrian. The ride down the other side was worth the effort, a speedy blast down the rocky track, not as technical as it used to be before the track was renovated but much faster.
All that remained was to pass through Danby, to reach the gentle path through the woods of Danby Park and a brief tarmac climb back to the waiting cars. Twenty three and a bit miles, a grand way to spend a bank holiday and infinitely preferable to the refuse tip/garden centre option which seems so popular amongst the day working fraternity.
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A Wet Finish
Tuesday 28th May 2019
La Mujerita
Another day of mixed weather, it was drizzling gently when we arrived in Kildale Station car park, although it managed to be slightly warmer than yesterday. It is time for La Mujerita to sample the dubious delight of the Ingleby Incline, a relic of the ironstone mining days and a brutal but efficient way to gain height. We rode easily from Kildale to Bank Foot Farm and followed the railway to the base of The Incline; it stretched up ahead of us, disappearing into the sky, the top section appearing so vertical you have to wonder how the gravel stays on.
We both made a brave attempt at riding the monster but were both off before the halfway gate, naturally the sun chose to put in an appearance at this point, as we slogged uphill, still wearing jackets. Eventually the top was gained and we took a break, trying to make out the old buildings which stood at the top of The Incline, only blocks and the odd roof beam remain now, although I can remember buildings standing in the late sixties or early seventies when we used to go walking with my dad.
We carried on to Bloworth Crossing, which was an actual crossing less than one hundred years ago, with a crossing keeper who lived in an adjacent cottage and opened and closed the gates as required. Only puddles and a sign board remain today and we doubled back on ourselves on the Cleveland Way, the wide sandy track damp and sticky today and clouds were closing in like dirty grey marshmallows engulfing the landscape. We thought we might escape the majority of the deluge as we headed downhill from the gate at Tidy Brown Hill but it wasn’t to be, by the time the refuge of Glebe Cottage was reached we were like the proverbial drowned rats, but nothing a bowl of homemade soup couldn’t put right.
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A Nice Little Loop From Scaling Dam
Wednesday 29th May 2019
Alone
The following day I found myself unexpectedly alone, so decided to have a run to Scaling Dam and check out the status of the car park, the water board have installed gates and a clock telling patrons what time they must vacate the car park, although even the most tardy of us probably manage to be back by nine pm. What kind of nocturnal shenanigans initiated this policy do not bear thinking about but it is good to see the food van has been reinstated too. After the all important check to see what time bacon sandwiches stop being served, I was pedalling along our old Scaling Dam route, heading for High Tranmire Farm and, for the second time in a week, The Slagbag, a much more leisurely approach today, stopping for selfie-filming along the way. After the climb and subsequent pootle across the moor, a brief section of tarmac took me onto the wide highway, climbing up Lealholm Moor to Danby Beacon, against the wind which was doing it’s best to spoil what could have been a pleasant day weatherwise.
From Danby Beacon, there is a 4x4 track which leads down to the road at Oakley Walls, beloved of our “One Life: Live It” wobbly-headed brethren, owing to it now looking like something from The Somme during the first world war, vehicles have been banned. But not bikes, riding down was not an enjoyable experience, balancing above deep ruts, filled with mud and water, things improve lower down where it becomes more stony and the surface is better able to withstand chunky tyres and horsepower. On the one hand, the drivers ought to know better than to be ploughing across soft peat, especially when it is wet, on the other hand, it is a very small corner of a large moor, out of the way and only an eyesore to anyone actually on the track.
Moving on, I put in an extra loop, riding the bridleway to Clitherbeck Farm, then using the road to pick up the Pannierman’s Causeway and riding it back to Clitherbeck Farm on a partially paved trod, originally built to provide a dry route for packhorses to cross the moor in medieval times. And now a nice little track to pedal across on a mountain bike. I made my way up to Danby Beacon again and hit the Roxby Moor singletrack for the second time this week; aided by the brisk wind, I was pushed along the track, rattling through the heather on a six inch wide track filled with loose rocks and wheel catching ruts. The track widens as it climbs gently to the farm road, I stopped a while as some grouse chicks scattered across the track, hiding in clumps of grass as I stalked them with my camera.
Back in the car park, the van was still doing a roaring trade, a lot of the old regulars seemed to have returned, in motor-homes and on motorbike, pensioners like myself, idling away the hours with tea and cigarettes, chatting at the picnic tables, full leather outfits ample protection against the wind. It would have been rude not to partake, within minutes I had a gigantic bun full of hot bacon in one hand and a coffee in the other and all is well with the world.
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Pedalling Through The Precipitation
Friday 31st May 2019
Sean
To the finish the month off, young Sean ventured out for his second go at mountain biking and his first ride on his new bike, an oldie but a goodie, a Specialised Epic which will be just the job for him. The long uphill, from Great Ayton to Roseberry Common, via Fletcher’s Farm and Aireyholme Farm was a tester for him - although he was not aware of this - if he could make it to the top without stopping, we were having a more brutal ride than if he’d capitulated. He pedalled the whole way, unknowingly giving himself a whole load more pain for the rest of the ride - but a better selection of downhills. The first downhill, from Roseberry Common to enter Guisborough Woods, was almost his last, when the bottom appeared more quickly than he imagined and he carved a whole new track through the bracken, disappearing off the side of the track, swallowed by a hollow. For some reason he was reluctant to repeat his endeavour for the camera.
Continuing into Guisborough Woods, Sean was acquainted with some of the gentler trails before we embarked on the long drag to the top of The Unsuitables and over Percy Cross Rigg, pausing at the old wartime building for midget gems and an explore. The Lonsdale Bowl came next, along with the rain, which half-heartedly tried to wet us but the end was in sight and we weren’t bothered. Fingerbender Bank was successfully negotiated without bending any parts of our respective anatomies and soon we were at Gribdale with only a couple of miles of downhill tarmac between us and the cafe. And that was another month of riding over - for me, 280 miles in 19 days of riding, it’s not easy this retirement lark but I struggle through.
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