Tuesday, 30 November 2021

Almost The Last Bit Of November.

 

 Snazzle Badger Monday



Met up with The Breadlad and Simon T. on the Hutton Village road, surprised them with an easy start, along the old rail track to Slapewath for a play in the woods, we were soon sailing off the jumps like gravity was a concept invented to keep ordinary mortals earthbound. Or maybe not - but God loves a trier. After a couple of successfully wasted hours, we rode back to Guisborough Woods, where Simon T. departed, rushing home to be in the arms of his beloved. Me and The Breadlad headed for our beloved - cafe - to get on the outside of a couple of toasties but not before we’d taken in a couple more trails, including the aforementioned Snazle Badger (sic). Seeing as we’d spent so much time in the woods it was quite a late finish, turning winter cold and dusky by the time we were back at the cars.














Elder Abuse




Almost a Christmas Dinner Ride sized crew out today, Howard, Simon T, Miles and Bingo Bob, three fast boys, an ebiker and the fat old gadgie at the back. It’s not even as though I’m documentary fat, the chances of me being on Panorama, laid on a reinforced bed while an endless stream of Deliveroo drivers keep me supplied with pizza and kebabs, is slim but that’s how I felt today. In some cultures I’d probably be considered anorexic, say Polynesia or the bar of most working men's clubs. Four backs disappearing  into the distance while I struggle along like poor Tiny Tim Cratchit.  And was there any concession for this victim of the abuse wrought by Guinness and pies? Of course not. We were introducing Miles and Bingo Bob to Hamsterley Hotlap 2.1, a minor variation on Hotlap 2.0, which should enable them to enjoy Hamsterley without enduring the purgatory of the official red route, which appears to have been designed to save wear and tear on the trails by ensuring people never want to return. Here is the route for those who haven’t been paying attention to previous blogs. Section 13, Boneshaker, Special K, Brainfreeze, Pikes Teeth, Route 666 (if you can be bothered) Oddsox, Two Wheels And Trolls, Polties Last Blast, K Line, Transmission, Accelerator, Nitrous. And that’s it, 13 trails in the bag and a nice flat tarmac road back to the cafe. Unless you’re with a bunch for whom abusing the elderly is a way of life and they suddenly turn off onto the Grove Link for one extra hill. They did miss out the Skills Loop though, probably too tired from their testosterone-fuelled, race-pace rampage, whereas I could have went round again - said the lying tortoise to the perspiring hares. 







A Bit Sloppy Round The Rim





Just me and The Breadlad today, at a bright but chilly Clay Bank, The Breadlad arriving as is customary, a fashionable fifteen minutes late, giving me time to fail dismally once again at Popmaster on Radio 2. Most of the questions are about people I have never even heard of. All these new bands like The Foo Fighters and Destiny’s Child, whoever Destiny’s Child might be. A quick route planning meeting occurred, taking into account the environmental variables, me being abused by young people yesterday and how many hills we could swerve and still class ourselves as mountain bikers. A rough plan was formed and we began the push/ride/carry up Carr Ridge and onto Urra Moor. The edge of Urra Moor, overlooking Bilsdale, is known to one and all as the The Rim, even though it is actually a Scheduled Monument, protected by law; a prehistoric linear boundary in the form of a dyke, gets a bit sloppy in winter, so we thought we’d give it a last go everything turns to clag. We might have left it a bit late, that’s all I’m saying. From the junction at Medd Crag a tailwind pushed us up the wide track to Round Hill, we carried on to Cockayne Heads and took another track, emerging at a junction above the Badger Stone. It was a little exposed to the cold wind up on the tops but the scenery and blue sky made up for it. We made our way into Bloworth Woods, one of The Breadlad’s favourite places on the moors - mainly because he once found a twenty quid note, spotting it before The Pensioner, whose legendary poor eyesight was known to improve when free currency was involved. We climbed out of the woods onto Rudland Rigg, that curious North York Moors anomaly which is always uphill no matter which direction you ride it. Our next stop was a blowy Bloworth Crossing, recent erosion making some of the original crossing timbers visible again and pedaled back to Round Hill and a grand descent on the paved bridleway, almost all the way back to the Carr Ridge Steps, dropping down an alternative finish which culminates on a fire road descent known on Strava as Dusters. Not even slightly dusty today, the soil damp from now until May probably, an interesting gully has begun to snake its way across the track though, deep enough to trap an unwary wheel in parts, which makes for a more exciting finish.









The Calm Before The Storm




There was a storm predicted to be heading our way, so we met up at Gribdale, maximum fun for minimum mileage, just Miles and Simon T. joined me today as everyone must have been battening down the hatches.  We whizzed up the fire road to Captain Cook’s Monument - whizzed, of course, being a relative term. The wind was already beginning to pick up, battering the exposed monument, we didn’t hang around, heading straight back down the hill, using the track known as Down The Wall before making our way to the far end of Gribdale. Another hideous climb got us onto Percy Cross Rigg, which we followed to enter Guisborough Woods at the top of the Unsuitables. Beginning with The Secret Path, we worked our way down through the forest, taking in as many tracks as we could with the minimum of climbing and a grand time was had by all until we realised a big hill stood between us and Gribdale and calmed ourselves down a bit before we reached the bottom of the forest. Muddied but undaunted, we made our weary way back onto Newton Moor, dropping back to Gribdale via Fingerbender Bank and Andy’s Track (our names - I’m sure they are called something else on Strava). We made it back to our cars before the full force of Storm Arwen wreaked havoc on the country. And wreak havoc it did, roofers and tree surgeons will be rubbing their (cash in) hands together for months to come.











Clicking on the route names will take you to the Strava page for the route. Where you can marvel at how slow we are.


Thursday, 25 November 2021

Classic Descents In The Cleveland Hills. Episode Five - Sis Cross.

 Classic Descents In The Cleveland Hills.




This series hopes to show our best-loved tracks on the moors, usually using the GoPro Hero 9 Hypersmooth mode because nobody wants to sit through fifteen minutes of chest cam footage, however magnificent the surroundings. Being someone who is against the whole best of, top ten mentality, especially when applied to unquantifiable entities, they are in no particular order, each one is someone’s favourite.


Episode Five.





Sis Cross


Classic moorland singletrack, the remnants of a medieval pony track used for transporting goods across the moors. The cross no longer exists, unless you count the waist height standing stone which marks the start of the descent. Just over half a mile from the Danby end of Robin Hood’s Butts is a small cairn and a bridleway marker post, (NZ 70335 11317) follow the singletrack southward, climbing gently to reach the “cross”, have a breather and take in the view across to Castleton and the hills beyond. A mile of singletrack stretches ahead, dropping down the hillside to end at the road above Danby. Mostly a groove through heather, with an occasional dip through peat hags to keep you alert, they can get a bit sloppy in winter but are still passable. It is a big skies, wide moors experience, no trees or jumps, just pure, unadulterated moors. If you are heading for Danby and the cafe (and who wouldn’t?), cross over the road where a short bridleway descent gives a last bit of off road fun. 


About Classic Descents In The Cleveland Hills.


They might not all be in the Cleveland Hills, possibly not even descents and whether they are classics or not is purely subjective but we enjoy them and I’m not one to spoil an alliterative title with facts. The Cleveland Hills form the North West edge of the North York Moors and it is the area where most of our riding takes place, predominantly cross-country; purple moors under big skies, criss-crossed by a network of sandy tracks which link up wholly natural descents, loose and ungroomed, a world away from risk assessments and construction design management. No marker posts or direction arrows, get a map or some local knowledge, “To boldly go...” might not be the wisest course of action, some of these trails change week by week depending on the actions of weather and walkers, you can expect loose rocks to miraculously appear dead in the middle of a moorland singletrack, placed by militant ramblers, who are a little overzealous in their belief the countryside should be closed to any other user groups. Self reliance is your friend, all the usual stuff about bike spares, extra clothing, reserve food, phone battery charged up and generally not being a knob apply, it might be a long way to the nearest road and an even longer way back to your car park. If the worst comes to the worst and the mountain rescue team needs to be called out, a grid reference or What 3 Words phrase will be enormously helpful, if you are unaware of either of these things, should you really be leaving the trail centre? An old-school whistle comes in handy for those spots where phones don’t work. Either three blasts or six blasts with a minute gap between sets is the approved method. Handily most hydration packs have a whistle included in the buckle of the sternum strap. I am not trying to be alarmist here, it’s all just common sense really. The majority of our routes are not gnarly or extreme in any way, we leave that for those more skilled but steep inclines and sudden drops, along with the dreaded ruts will always be possible. https://www.adventuresmart.uk/ Relax, enjoy the scenery, journey not destination and all that, when the heather is in bloom, the sun is shining and the winds are favourable there is no finer place to be.








Sunday, 21 November 2021

More Autumnal Adventures Amongst The Ancients.

 Worth It For The Burger.



Yet again the wheels of the motor industry have stopped turning, giving Keith the benefit of a free day to enjoy in the company of two of the finest mountain bikers in the north east of England, unfortunately they couldn't make it, so he had to make do with me and The Breadlad. Despite the mild weather for the time of year,  Birk Brow was being strafed by a bitter wind. Luckily The Breadlad was merely minutes late and we were soon heading down the bridleway in Skelton Warren woods, above Margrove Park. We hadn't gone far when we met Guisborough woods trail building legend Ralph and Max the saluki, Ralph immediately turned us around and pointed us down some of his newest trails, thrilled that someone would be testing out his handiwork. The trail we did was pretty enjoyable, a nice change from simply hurtling (or as close to hurtling as we ever get) down the bridleway. We continued into the woods at Slapewath, for a spot of sessioning on the jumps - just like the young people, despite our combined age approaching 170 years. Quitting while we were ahead, that is before any bikes or bones were broken, we moved on to Guisborough Woods to enjoy a few leaf-covered trails, always bearing in mind we still had to climb back up Birk Brow to finish the ride. Keith reminded us last time he did this ride we finished in lashing rain, sure enough, it began to rain as we started the ascent. Obviously Keith brings the bad weather down from Sunderland, we didn’t even have a word for rain until he appeared. Some idiot suggested we try riding up the bridleway in Skelton Warren instead of the path beside the busy road, two other idiots agreed. It won’t happen again. Significantly steeper than the road option. When we reached the car park, Ralph was waiting for us with his hand-drawn trail map of the woods we’d just slogged up through, we have plenty of trails for next time.












Swainby Saunter.




Definitely turning a bit cooler today, still pleasantly dry though. I met The Breadlad in a rather busy Swainby and we immediately began climbing, up past Whorlton Castle - now unfortunately locked to prevent visitors; probably after the day The Youth used his climbing prowess to clamber onto the battlements and wander round like the ghost in Hamlet. More climbing took us through fields to Faceby and a stiff ascent to Faceby Plantation for a welcome bit of downhill to Heathwaite. One of our Fields Of Heavy Gravity awaited, followed by the Clain Wood steps, eventually we reached the ford at Sheepwash and climbed some more to High Lane. Sack the route planner, I say. In the woods above Cod Beck Reservoir we rode a few of Rod’s trails, some characterized by Rod’s signature rock ramps, to enable fallen trees to be surmounted without breaking the flow. Osmotherley’s most infamous resident - The Colonel - has been busy on a couple of trails but it looks as though his heart is not really in it, we could hop over every one of his obstacles. The last climb of the ride took us to the collection of antennas known locally as The Table And Chairs, high on Swinesty Hill, overlooking the A19. From there it was downhill, on a variety of tracks, all the way back to Swainby and The Rusty Bike cafe.










Pity It Was Only A Quicky.




Just a quickie this morning as I had to pay my respects to a departed neighbour in the afternoon. Me, Simon T. and Bingo Bob rolled out of Great Ayton on a fine autumn morning, the pristine silence only broken by the sound of my dodgy rear hub grinding and grunting like the  death rattle of an overworked robot. It only has to last another three weeks such is the parlous state of stock levels for bike parts nowadays. It was only intended to be a quick trawl around some of Guissy Woods’ finest tracks but emerging on Percy Cross Rigg, it soon became apparent I had less brakes than testicles. Inspection revealed the rear brake hose had come off its mounting (the cable tie had snapped) and the tyre had rubbed through the hose, causing a hole. The remainder of the ride was done with only a front brake, needless to say, some of the steeper tracks were given a swerve in favour of trails which wouldn’t require extensive dental reconstruction if I came off. We finished up in Cliff Rigg Quarry, where Bingo Bob became Big Air Bob, actually clearing a tabletop - a feat never before recorded in the history of the Terra Trailblazers. Mild, sunny, warm, dry, we were having a grand time and then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like “Bloody hell, look at the time, I have to be at the crematorium for half three.”














Clicking on the route names will take you to the Strava page for the route. Where you can marvel at how slow we are.