It's Having A Go At Being Summer.

A Good Couple Of Hours Exploring

Monday 19th August 2019
Alone

Just one of those leisurely days when little used avenues could be explored, see a path, follow it and look out for trails left and right. And it worked out pretty well, finding a few trails whose existence had been hitherto unknown to us but someone has been busy with the logs, crafting some nice drops and berms on trails winding down the hillside at the far end of Guisborough Woods. Even the weather kind of played nicely apart from the unseasonably strong wind, which made hard work of the ride back to the car.

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Droning On

Tuesday 20th August 2019
Alone

Another ride scrounging about Guisborough Woods and surrounding area, this time starting from Gribdale. The wind is forecast to be a bit more gentle today, so I thought I might give the drone another chance to behave itself. A few miles later some bloke on the verge of middle-age could be seen riding in and out of a trail while glancing skywards and swearing profusely. The plan was to launch drone, set it to active track, follow mode, ride trail with customary style and aplomb while drone follows filming magnificent aerial footage worthy of a Hollywood blockbuster. The reality is more prosaic, drone up, active track engaged, start riding along moor to trail entrance, drone follows nicely, turn into trail and begin descending, realise the buzzing of the motors is no longer audible, look back, drone is hovering at trail entrance, looking baffled and no doubt saying “Where’d he go? Where’d he go?” in drone-speak. Push back to top of trail, start the whole process again, after the third attempt it manages to film the top part of the trail, unfortunately without the rider. Low battery and it’s time to land, so that was twelve to fifteen minutes filming resulting in about 20 seconds of useful footage. Such is the wonderful world of drones, I considered that a good result. 

Deciding to save the second battery for somewhere more scenic, I packed up and rode on, deciding Highcliffe Nab might be a good spot for some more aerial manoeuvres, the wind however, had other ideas, gusting so strongly the drone would have struggled to film smooth footage and I might have struggled to ride smoothly. Not too worry, there are a couple of other locations in mind, unfortunately all of which turned out to be equally windswept, so the drone stayed in the bag and I enjoyed the ride. 

The car park is lower and more sheltered, so after I had my little picnic, it seemed an idea to use the remaining drone battery to grab a few general views of the area, B roll as they call it in the movie business. Launch drone, fly it a few feet and it randomly decides to disconnect itself from the app which is supposed to be showing me what the camera is seeing, I can still fly the drone and control it with the remote control but cannot start the video or see what I am filming. I land the drone and go through the whole start up and launch procedure three times,with the same results, not able to get the magical “Go Fly” notification at all, then as the drone is hovering and I am trying to think of a way out to make the stupid thing work, it suddenly does, everything back to normal. Why? How? No idea. Begin filming, beep beep beep “Low Battery Warning  - the device will land in ten seconds.” Frustration isn’t strong enough a word.

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Round The Reservoir Quicky

Wednesday 21st August
La Mujerita

A little ride out with La Mujerita today, driving to Square Corner through a minor cloudburst, which thankfully passed by the time we had got the bikes off the car. Square Corner is, as usual, suffering from its own micro-climate, where it is half as warm and twice as windy as the surrounding area, it was a relief to be on the bikes and heading down the road towards Chequers - the former coaching inn, not the prime ministers country house, which is in that region of Britain which deserves to be only ever passed over at 35,000 feet on the way to somewhere much farther south.

 La Mujerita likes her trails like her men, smooth and picturesque, which is, obviously, why she chose me; we took route 65 down through the forest to Cod Beck Reservoir, fire road all the way but the weather had improved substantially, so it was a pleasant downhill blast in the sunshine. We crossed the road after the reservoir and rode up to Scarth Wood Moor on tarmac, a steady climb but nothing too arduous, a brief rest at the seat and we rode down the other side, a long descent, mainly  paved with slabs of rock, giving way to gravel tracks lower down, with fine views across Whorl Hill to Roseberry Topping. 

From the road, we pedalled back to the reservoir, passing the throngs at Sheepwash, all getting a bit of countryside, safe in the knowledge they are only metres from their cars in case wild bear descends from the trees looking for an easy meal. Crossing the dam for the second time today, we reversed our outbound route back to Square Corner, now languishing in sunshine, only a short route but it appears to be the new favourite of La Mujerita.

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It’s Having A Go At Being Summer

Friday 23rd August 2019
Rod

In a change to the usual programme, we had an afternoon ride today because Rod is one of those unfortunate people who work days not shifts, it’s a Bank Holiday weekend and he is giddy with excitement to have an extra afternoon to add to his whole three days off. Hutton village is again the starting point, Guisborough Woods the venue and it’s having a go at being summer; sun, sweat and flies. We climbed to Highcliffe, more or less directly, not the easiest start but efficient in a brutal way. Continuing to the far end of the woods, we explored some trails which we had never ridden before, someone has definitely been busy, building berms, drop offs and jumps on a variety of tracks, we even ‘sessioned’ a few bits, just like young people do. One structure, which might be loosely described as a bridge, has obviously been constructed by someone too young to have discovered the pleasures of beer and kebabs and flexed alarmingly when crossed by some more mature gentlemen.

Dodgy bit of bridge building.

Returning to the Highcliffe area of Guisborough Woods, we sniffed out some more trails which Rod had seen on a video somewhere, these were more natural than the previous ones, following an established but well hidden trail through the trees. The last trail popped us out on the bottom track which leads to Hutton village, despite the brevity of our route, it was getting late, so mindful of the rush hour traffic we would have to endure (something shift workers find astounding, “They do this every day?”) we called it a wrap and headed back to the cars.

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The Coldest August Since The Last Ice Age

A Bit Of Lakeland Action

Tuesday 13th August 2019

The Breadlad

Following a four day break - from cycling, I threw myself into the deep end with a day trip to the Lake District for a ride up (and down) one of its fells - or hills as the rest of the world calls them. The Breadlad was ensconced in his caravan at Threlkeld, ready and eager to go by the time I arrived, the weather was doing a passable impression of early autumn not mid-summer, cold wind and the odd spot of rain but largely sunny. The Threlkeld to Keswick rail track cyclepath is still closed, which meant a diversion and an extra climb, whichever way we chose to avoid riding along the wacky race track which is the A66. We opted for Brundholme Road, which runs through the woods on the slopes of Latrigg, closed to traffic, it once was a public road, I can remember driving along it in the past, now overgrown by trees and bushes, the tarmac subsiding in places, it is reserved for cyclists, walkers and wildlife. 

We passed through Keswick and continued to Braithwaite, where we began the long climb up our chosen fell, firstly on tarmac, which turned to gravel, this lead to a grassy slope, upwards ever upward; eventually reaching a col and junction of tracks, naturally ours continued upwards, rock steps puncturing the path, shoulder the bike and make like a rambler, plodding upward towards the summit. The stiff breeze meant we only lingered long enough for a few pictures, enjoying a grand view over Derwentwater and across to the mighty Skiddaw, blue sky belying the unseasonable temperature. The descent is what we were here for and it didn’t disappoint, grass, rocks and gravel, downhill all the way back to Braithwaite; some steep sections necessitated a bit of pre-inspection, a more thorough perusal might have stopped The Breadlad’s headlong flight over the handlebars after one drop off, a handy cushion of thick bracken preventing any serious injury. 

From Braithwaite we made our way back to Keswick on minor roads, calling at the park cafe for a spot of lunch amongst throngs of people, it’s allegedly mid-summer but most are wearing fleece or down jackets and keeping a careful eye on the scudding clouds. Deciding to ride back to Threlkeld via Castlerigg Stone Circle, we set off, tarmac all the way and about five hundred feet of ascent to the stone circle which is almost as busy as Keswick town centre today. Whoever erected the stones chose exactly the right spot, there is three hundred and sixty degree panorama of fells and woods, it is like being in an arena with an audience of massif and ridge, slope and crag, and there is always an ice cream van for a cool down if things get a bit heated in the old pagan ceremony department. From here it is pretty much all downhill back to Threlkeld, gratefully accepted as we had clocked up over two and a half thousand feet of ascent. 

Height Profile.

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 The Coldest August Since The Last Ice Age

Wednesday 14th August 2019
La Mujerita

Me and La Mujerita rolled up at Gribdale, car thermometer registering a temperature of fourteen degrees, grey clouds drizzling slightly, waterproofs on, bikes off and up the hill as soon as possible, just to get warm. Welcome to summer 2019. Sticking to wide and firm tracks, we made our way across Newton Moor to Guisborough Woods and had a trawl around fire roads, keeping the technical difficulty low and cadence high. A disturbing amount of puddles and mud is appearing, trails are reverting to the sort of state usually encountered in December, bikes are sporting mudguards and waterproof socks have been taken out of the winter clothing box.

Working on the theory that any sort of day out on bikes is better than the alternative - not having a day out on bikes, we enjoyed our ride through mud filled hollows under glowering clouds, managing to squeeze in a few decent descents to liven things up. A post ride lunch stop at Fletcher’s Farm was so busy we had to sit outside on the veranda, moving tables to shelter from the wind, La Mujerita wearing her winter down jacket while I shivered in a thin windproof, regretting my choice to dress by the calendar not the conditions.

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 Staycation My Arse

Thursday 15th August 2019
Alone

Sixteen years to the day since the very first Terra Trailblazers ride and I was in the same starting place, Square Corner outside Osmotherley, alone and with no plans to replicate that original ride mainly because the first section, in Silton Woods, has long gone. Instead another old loop was dragged out and held up to the light, to see how it fares with the benefit of experience. The Arnsgill Ridge route, which passes through Sheepwash to Scugdale, then climbs Barker’s Ridge to follow wide, sandy tracks across the moor, eventually down to Low Cote Farm, before finishing with the Dale Head single-track. 

The route went well, mainly dry and fairly sunny. Arnsgill Ridge, in common with a number of moorland tracks recently, has been smoothed out and sanitised, no doubt for the benefit of the shooting parties who pay a premium for the privilege of day on the drink with guns. They could probably get similar a lot cheaper in Middlesbrough but without the views. What I hadn't reckoned on was a most unseasonable wind, verging on gale force made the technical Dale Head track rather more difficult than it ought to have been. 

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 Autumnal August

Friday 16th August 2019
The Ginger One, The Youth.

Another day with the sort of weather forecast that would have lesser men putting themselves under house arrest, so it is surprising that I managed not one but two companions today. The Youth and The Ginger One were metaphorically bright eyed and bushy tailed despite the pervasive gloom blanketing Teesside and North Yorkshire, we had no trouble parking by the river in Great Ayton, not always easy in August - well, in a normal August anyway. 

Riding steadily upwards we passed through Aireyholme Farm, continuing up to Roseberry Common, which was awash with ramblers, obviously taking a safety in numbers approach to their ascent of the East Face of Roseberry Topping. We mooched about in the rain, sliding down a few trails and spending a lot of time at the top of hills waiting for The Youth whose impressive physical development obviously doesn’t extend to the cardiovascular system. 

It rained occasionally, the wind blew and we rode until the siren call of the cafe drew us down from the moors, reversing our route from Roseberry Common was fast, wet and messy, faces splattered with unidentifiable but definitely organic matter, I can vouch for this because the lump which ended up in my mouth certainly had straw as part of its composition. A few minutes later we were three wet and muddy wretches sitting amongst a legion of impossibly pristine walkers in Fletcher’s Farm cafe. How can people go on the moors and stay so clean? I can manage to look like a tramp just crossing a car park. 

Relive 'Morning Aug 16th'