Moist Hamsters
24th June 2019
The Breadlad.
Freshly returned from one of his frequent trips across the Atlantic, where he even indulged in a spot of bicycle related bear dodging, The Breadlad thought he could utilise his remaining days off by emulating us retired folk and having four mountain bike rides in a week. Dipping his toe into the bleak harshness of retired life, the constant grind of turning pedals in mud, rain and wind, day after day, cafe after cafe, will he be able to hack it? We began the week at Hamsterley, lots of standing water around following a wet weekend and more rain to come, forecast for two pm, with a bit of luck we’ll be in the cafe by then. We stuck exclusively to the man made tracks, not being in the market for mud and wet roots, it is June supposedly. Riding up on fire roads to Windybank Road, through swathes of open ground that were forest a few weeks ago, we passed the entrance to The Pensioner trail and continued to Section 13, plenty of puddles but otherwise good as usual. Bypassing Boneshaker because that is the Terra Trailblazer way, the next two sections are Special K and Brainfreeze, both damp and slippery but nothing riders of our calibre couldn’t handle, mincing down as hesitantly as two tramps heading for a shower.
One side done, a quick blast along The Grove Link and begin the long drag up the other side, passing Accelerator to the NSP (Natural Stopping Point), the green box before the muddy, rooty climb to the next level, where we paused to take on calories while the midges realised dinner has arrived and begin freeloading there own sustenance. It’s hard to imagine what part midges play in the grand scheme of things, vicious blood-sucking little bastards that they are, Hamsterly midges are especially butch, fearlessly zooming at any bare skin, despite slapping hands decimating their family. You would think seeing your grandad and a few of your cousins being pulverised would serve as a warning, engendering some degree of caution but no, just dive in and get as much blood as you can. Which can’t be much, how big can a midge’s stomach be? So why does the extraction of a fraction of a millilitre of best O Neg leave an itchy spot of such disproportionate size and irritation? Natures idea of a joke?
Sweaty, steamy and itchy, we continued to the start of Polty’s Last Blast, which segues neatly into K Line, a short climb and we’re into Transmission and the stone altar NSP, a very brief sit down before the midge legions sniff us out and boom, we’re off down Triple Tranny as it is known, Transmission, Accelerator and Nitrous. Accelerator and Nitrous are now linked by a handy berm, which saves you going out onto the fire road and in again, shaving valuable micro-seconds from that all important Strava time. Seeing we probably have more chance of becoming leader of the Tory party than getting Triple Tranny KOM’s, it was wasted on us but it does improve the route; we reached the bottom high on endorphins, if we were Americans we might have high fived or fist bumped with a-whooping and a-hollering but we settled for something more Northern.
“That was alright.”
“Aye canny.”
“Cafe?”
“Can do.”
In the cafe the forecast rain arrived bang on time, a proper deluge, monsoon stair rods, Noah waiting impatiently on the gang plank as the snails edge towards the ark. The rain is supposed to stop in about thirty six hours, so that’s tomorrow cancelled, something else The Breadlad needs to learn, when you’re retired missing a day owing to bad weather is not a problem, there are plenty more days to go at.
Relive 'Moist Hamsters.'
Thank God For EasyJet.
26th June 2019
The Breadlad
Now this country is beginning to take the proverbial micturition, the end of June and the thermometer in my car is reading ten and a half degrees, it’s damp and drizzly, the car park is a mud slick and I’m on the Easyjet app looking for cheap flights to anywhere warm while I wait for The Breadlad to show up. We had a full day of rain yesterday and it looks like its little brother, drizzle, is coming out to accompany us today.
Undaunted, we pedal onto the moors, which are mostly nestled beneath a cosy blanket of cloud, our true Brit stoicism getting us up Three Sting Hill to Warren Farm, from where we dropped down to the old chimney in Leven Vale before ascending a very soggy Field Of Heavy Gravity. Across the moor to Baysdale is rocky and technical, some of the drop offs are bigger than they look, which goes some way to explaining a bloke on the verge of middle age laid on a cushion of wet heather wishing his knee pads were on his knees instead of in the car boot.
The bridleway from Three Barns in Baysdale is mainly puddle and it is a relief when we get to the road above Hob Hole, even though it signifies a few miles of mainly uphill, tarmac; drive trains grinding away because the dry lube hasn’t survived. How could we be so stupid, dry lube in June? Over towards Gribdale we spent some time searching for a hidden bike track, so well hidden we couldn’t find it, if it even still exists, before we powered up the hill to Captain Cook’s Monument, powered being a relative term at this stage of the ride.
A mandatory stop at the monument, consuming calories in the cold, shivering in the chilly wind prior to descending by a little used track, wet branches, slippery rocks and squelchy ground dropped us to a fire road, then steep, skiddy tarmac through Bankside Farm soon had us at Glebe Cottage. Where, remarkably the weather decided to improve itself, not actually going as far as beaming sunshine but some lightening of the greyness with a slight rise in temperature tempted some hardy souls to sit outside.
Relive 'Thank God For EasyJet'
What A Difference A Day Makes...
27th June 2019
The Breadlad.
Hold on a cotton pickin’ minute, as Deputy Dawg used to say, put the EasyJet app down and rescind the emigration papers, something funny is going on with the weather around these parts. The temperature has risen by at least ten degrees and there is a big ball of burning gas shining down on Square Corner. How can twenty four hours make such a difference? The Breadlad is on day three of his audition for retirement and not faltering yet, even with an ascent of the Mad Mile to begin the route, although he could hardly complain seeing as it was his idea. Breathless and panting at the top but another dab-free ascent in the bag, we continued along the Drove Road on this fine, sunny and virtually windless day (I bet I don’t write that too often), eating up the miles as we sped along wide track.
At the junction with Kepwick Bank we headed down Arden Bank a short way, then turned off onto a grassy track across Dale Town Common which lead us to a field edge bridleway, gradually downhill to Noddle End. The bridleway continues steeply, turning to limestone-strewn singletrack, treacherous when wet but today enjoying a bit of a respite. A fire road takes us through the woods below the climbing area of Peak Scar, deserted today despite the fine weather, probably the head-height nettles which blanket the access to the bottom of the crag during summer have something to do with it.
We took the road, heading towards Dialstone Farm but turning off to gain the escarpment, the view magnificent, patchwork fields and toytown houses far below us. The escarpment runs north to south and is good ridden either way, we headed north, making our way towards paradise, well, High Paradise Farm, or more importantly, High Paradise Farm tearoom.
A quick diversion onto the quarry drop section of the Sutton Bank blue route, turned into a slow diversion when we had to go back and search for my missing GPS but it turned up, definitely investing in a tether for future use. The new Heineken pump in the cafe was put to good use for some essential rehydration, while we sat outside on the patio with three dogs and a family of ducks, all enjoying the weather.
Reluctantly we left paradise behind and pedalled back along the Drove Road, four miles of undulating track leading to one mile of pure pleasure, the Mad Mile in the fun direction. And grand it was too, loose and rocky at first changing to hard pack gravel for the long run out to the gate. Sunshine, blue sky and a mile long descent; some people actually choose to be at work on days like this, they will probably make a psychiatrist very rich one day.
Relive 'What A Difference A Day Makes...'
A Quick Ride Around The Rim
28th June 2019
The Breadlad.
And in the red corner, for his fourth appearance this week, comes The Breadlad, still going strong although he is playing the old “got to be back early” card so his last day as a trainee retiree is not too arduous. An old favourite route came to mind, along The Fronts from Lordstones, up the steps, around The Rim, down Medd Crag and back up the road to Lordstones, about ten miles, just right for a short day. The weather is continuing to be amenable, not quite as hot as yesterday as we set off from Lordstones, red arms slathered in the factor 30 we forgot yesterday but warm enough to work up a sweat on the first hill. The Fronts still harbours a few puddles and some deeper mud hags especially in the tree-shaded sections. The last bit, below the cliffs on the east end of Hasty Bank, has been felled and the formerly rocky downhill is now a motorway, wide and fast but lacking the enjoyment it used to have. After crossing the road, we shouldered our steeds for the hike-a-bike up the Carr Ridge steps, at the summit The Breadlad finally succumbed to the siren call of his week old Mars Bar as the rigorous demands of riding four out of five days depleted his calorie reserves.
The Rim, as we call the track skirting the edge of Urra Moor, is part of a prehistoric earthwork, used to mark historic boundaries in the landscape, the earthwork is a scheduled ancient monument and the path we follow was moved slightly a few years ago to avoid damage. It is a good ride, undulating, on grass, rock or loam, looking down into Bilsdale, some of the usually muddy sections were suffering from the recent wet weather, it will take more than a day and a half of sunshine to dry them out but it was all rideable. Medd Crag is another of those descents which has suffered from sanitisation in recent years, instead of a feast of pick your line technicality, we now have a downhill blast between the gates. Fast but like so many other tracks on the moors lacking the enjoyment of the old days.
Still we’d had another day of mountain biking and as we began the long haul up the Raisdale Road, The Breadlad confessed to feeling the pace, I had to give him the disappointing news that he is not prepared for retirement unless he can manage four days a week and it looks like another fifteen years or so at the crumpet face for him.
Relive 'A Quick Ride Around The Rim.'
No comments:
Post a Comment