Like A Couple Of Teenagers Playing In The Woods.
One of those Spring days when deciding how many layers to wear is tricky, pleasantly sunny but, as the saying goes, the wind had teeth and by the time we reached the high moors, we were glad of the extra clothing. Rod has managed to escape from work for a week and was probably wishing he was back by the time we were hauling ourselves up Coleson Banks onto Battersby Moor. The chilly wind accompanied us along the Cleveland Way track until we turned off along the stony track which leads ultimately to Armouth Wath on what is known as The Flagged Road, normally we ride this track the opposite way, the ascent from the crossing of Black Beck always comes as a nasty surprise on a track we normally consider almost flat. It’s weird how your mind blanks out the unpleasant bits of trials until they appear in front of you like uninvited relatives. Turning into a headwind, we pedaled back up the Old Coal Road to Burton Howe, where we hung a left and made our way to Bloworth Crossing, just to get a few extra miles in our legs. The broad tracks are drying up nicely, a few puddles here and there, the odd muddy patch but mainly superb, especially if you like easy riding with fine views. From a blowy Bloworth, we followed the old rail track back to the Incline Top before hopping up onto our original track and riding in the opposite direction, back to Burton Howe, continuing to Tidy Brown Hill and embarking on what is still one of my favourite tracks on the moors, the section of Cleveland Way which leads to Baysdale. It is not in any way technical or even that steep, simply a gravelled doubletrack with a few drainage humps but you can pretty much throw caution to the wind and ride as fast as your cajones allow. A singletrack bridleway leads off from this track, rutted and wet, heading down to join Ingleby Bank, or Turkey Nab as it is more commonly known, steep and fast, just remember to slow down before the gate. From the gate we went into the woods, ready to make like youths, sessioning bits of trail, searching out hidden sections, maybe having the occasional dab, slithering about in moist loam and generally having a grand time for an hour or so until hunger forced us back to the cars. Back in the valley, sheltered from the wind, it was like a summer’s day, the camping stools came out of the boot and we enjoyed a proper tailgate picnic.
Another Great Ayton start, we took ourselves directly up to Aireyholme Farm, braving the Fletcher’s Farm puncture run and continued into Guisborough Woods. Almost immediately heading onto the trails, which are beginning to dry up slightly but not as much as is ideal. Some sliding and slithering ensued, a few falls and more than one refusal at the first fence, or jump in our cases. One trail which was felled out some time ago has been reinvented as a mini jump park with a set of doubles, a gap jump and some steep drop ins, we played on the slopes, while young Olly attempted the doubles with a confidence we could only dream of. Moving on to an ascent of The Unsuitables calmed us all down a bit, reaching the top as panting wrecks, we met Bingo Bob and his mate on their electric bikes, they seemed unimpressed by our leg-power only ascent. Probably because we could barely speak. We continued over Percy Cross Rigg and around the Lonsdale Bowl, heading along to Newton Moor to the gate opposite Roseberry Topping, ready for an epic descent beginning with Little Roseberry. The wind was howling in by now, as we began the drop, we caught the full force of the gale, pushing us sideways off the track but we all managed to get down unscathed. Gravity still on our side, we continued downward, curving round the base of Roseberry Topping on rocky tracks and stone steps until we reached Roseberry Lane. Moving on, we went to Cliff Rigg Quarry, one of those places where people on the verge of middle-age go to be embarrassed by teenagers. A few pitiful attempts on the nursery slopes ensued while youngsters flung themselves into the air like a flea circus. (Google it, it was a thing in the days before entertainment), they then kindly demonstrated ‘the cliff drop’ for us, dropping off a ten foot precipice onto the slope below, even stopping to tell us how easy it is, “just roll over the edge and pull up a little bit...” I’m sure if I tried it, I’d just roll over the edge and lay there a little bit - until the air ambulance arrived. Entertained but slightly humiliated, we left the youths to it and headed toward something we could polish off without any hesitation or practice - our picnics.
Seeing as the nice people at Lordstones have left their car park open for us to use during lockdown, it would be rude not to start from there now and again. Of course, we would much rather the cafe and shop were open too but that’s for a future time. Another what to wear sort of day, sunshine with a blustery wind, the threat of a shower ever present but hopefully not materialising. A good drying wind, as my mother would say and it is having the right effect on the trails, The Fronts, as far as Sheepshagger Bank was fine and dry, apart from the occasional muddy puddle to catch out the unwary - just call me Mr. Unwary. The Fronts is the name we give to the track which runs across the north faces of Cringle Moor, Cold Moor and Hasty Bank, terminating at the Bilsdale road, opposite Clay Bank car park and Sheepshagger Bank is a steep gully where we once rescued a sheep, stuck by its horns in a wire fence, some compromising photos may have been taken, as an unnamed Terra Trailblazer approached from the rear, fortunately in the days before digital cameras and social media. Unfortunately the alleged photos are now lost in the mists of time and only the name remains. The shale singletrack around the front of Cold Moor is a bit of a hidden gem, normally bypassed in favour of the wider track below, let’s hope it stays that way. From the end of the singletrack, we shouldered bikes for a plod up onto the ridge of Cold Moor, ready for that North York Moors classic, the imaginatively named Cold Moor Descent. A smorgasbord of bicycling delights, from grassy singletrack to a rocky streambed, multiple lines to choose, constantly interesting, the antithesis of groomed trail centre riding and predictably enough avoided by the shiny bike and full face helmet crews. The trail finishes down in Chop Gate, down being the significant word here, with the options to continue the ride being up, or up, or even up some more. Occasionally the odd lunatic (usually The Ginger One, who has been keeping a low profile this month) suggests the Mast Road, which is a coronary-inducing, private road leading to Bilsdale Transmitter mast, the giant totem of the herds who worship television. Thankfully that option remained un-mooted and we pedaled up the Raisdale Road, then more steeply off Raisdale Road to the col at Stoney Wickes before climbing a bit more, around the head of Scugdale to Brian’s Pond. More climbing took us to the summit of Carlton Bank with fine views across Teesside to the North Sea, the CF Industries cooling towers belching out plenty of steam, keeping my pension topped up, just behind the cooling towers - my little house. Can’t get any more local than a ride where you can still see your house. A couple of nice singletracks, followed by a fast fire road and we were almost back at Lordstones but not before we’d stopped in the shale tip play area to channel our inner teenager. Playing on jumps again - for the third time this week, it’ll all end in tears - eventually. Using a cunning combination of cowardice and caution, we managed to find a few kindergarten jumps which were more in our league. They say start small and work up, when it comes to jumps; I’ve been in the start small phase for over twenty years now.
The forecast was predicting 40 mph winds and hailstones, interest in a moors ride was muted to say the least but there is always the local, before work, quickie with La Mujerita option to fall back on. It is definitely windy and rain is lurking in every gust but we managed to stay dry for a spin around the urban rurality in our locality. We even managed to squeeze in enough off road tracks to qualify it as a gravel ride rather than (heaven forbid) a road ride. For those familiar with the area, we rode from Billingham to Norton, along Station Road to where road becomes rutted track, passing a few small farms and riding stables, an ascent of the Stony Bank brought us back to the outskirts of Billingham. Turning left, we continued toward Wynyard, dropping down the Golden Gates bank and climbing up again on Blakestone Lane, making our way to a section of the Castle Eden Walkway, another old railtrack utilised as a cycle track. Time was against us, so we turned off at Carlton, rode through the village and down to Thorpe Thewles, returning home along the Wynyard Road. Being proper cyclists, not calorie-counting, skinny-tyre weirdos, the lure of our local Greggs was too strong to resist and some of their finest comestibles formed the basis of a hearty lunch.
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