Further Flawed Forecasting

It was a grand day despite the dire predictions of the weathermen.

Starting to feel a bit of fitness coming back, after my ten week lay off, although spending last week being beasted by Rod and Superbri probably set things back a bit. The first day of November, according to the weatherman, looked to be mediocre, to say the least. As we assembled our bikes, the first drops of rain began to fall and just as suddenly stopped, never to reappear for the rest of the day - and a fine, autumnal day it turned out to be. Me and Simon T climbed up through Guisborough Woods from Hutton Village, golden leaves complementing the blue sky. We made our way across Newton Moor, using Andy’s Track to drop down to Gribdale, the bracken has died back enough for the trail to be rideable again. The fire road up to Captain Cook’s Monument hasn’t gotten any easier since last week. The plan was to introduce Simon to the Gribdale Gobbler and see if his big boy bike could handle the drops and gap jumps we usually swerve around to avoid over-burdening the NHS. The second half of the trail has been sabotaged, the jumps torn apart and the logs strewn down the track. Maybe owing to the felling work going on in the area but it does seem oddly specific. It is getting muddy now, the halcyon days of dry, dusty trails are merely a memory. And the way the trees are being harvested, who knows how long any of the trails will last? Returning to Gribdale, we rode up the steep bank and around the Lonsdale Bowl before Codhill Heights took us back to Guisborough Woods, we did a few trails around Nomad area, dropping down to ride one, which according to Strava, goes by the charming sobriquet, Shithouse Rat. Some fun was had, sessioning the jumps like young people might, before heading along the bottom track to Hutton Village.

Urra Moor Meandering

Just The Breadlad and me today, meeting at Clay Bank, on another exemplary morning. Clay Bank generally means a slog up the steps onto Urra Moor and today was no different, except the tailwind which usually pushes up the final slope to Round Hill was noticeable by its absence. Soon we were riding across the roof of the North York Moors on broad sandy tracks beneath an even broader blue sky. Like a pair of cycling gods (*) we powered across Urra Moor to the Incline Top and onward to Burton Howe and the start of the Old Coal Road. The long downhill was dry and fast, we hung a left at the bottom, pedalling back to Battersby Moor and picking up the singletrack bridleway to Ingleby Bank (or Turkey Nab, as we know it). The rock slabs are beginning to reassert themselves following the recent attempt at sanitisation and an enjoyably bumpy descent followed. The tracks in Battersby Plantation are rideable once again, bracken is relinquishing its grip although rocks are mossy and green. The last section of the bottom track emerges through vegetation so dense it was like being groped (we should be so lucky). All that remained was the fire road drag through the plantation and the brutal climb road climb to return us to Clay Bank car park.

(* some sequences may have been exaggerated for dramatic effect)

Slippery Sliding

It looks as though everyone has found something more interesting to do on this fine Monday morning because it was a lonely boy setting off from Great Ayton - after listening to Popmaster on Radio 2 obviously. Some heavy rain over the weekend has left the place wetter than Whitney Houston’s last joint and the strong wind doesn’t seem to be doing much of a job of drying it up. Usual start, through the farms to Roseberry Common, then up the steps to Newton Moor for a scrounge about some Guisborough Woods trails. A day of fallen leaves, wet roots, puddles and mud, sounds like our school dinners from the 1970’s, I hope my mother never reads this - she was one of the cooks; the trails were definitely more enjoyable than the dinners. Quite a few people about in the forest today, including two or three school or college groups with the inevitable less than enthusiastic member distraught at being torn from whatever screen they normally vegetate in front of. Anyhow, as you can probably guess, a couple of hours trail riding and it was back to Great Ayton for the all-important calorie replenishment, which is where my Garmin Edge 130 decided that Great Ayton High Street is at a lower altitude than Death Valley, adding in plus two hundred feet of climbing to get from Cooplands to the river. I blame Elon Musk, probably buying all the satellites so he can charge us to use them.

Mud-free And Gentle

A nice steady ride along Stockton riverside today, so La Mujerita could get the hang of her new bike. Windy again but pleasantly bright. We took the A19 cycle track to Newport Bridge, rode along the south bank of the river, passing the Tees Barrage and continued to Victoria Bridge. Crossing the river, we stopped to look at the swans which congregate near the casino, perhaps hoping some lucky punter will spend some of their winnings on a loaf of bread for them. Riding back along the north bank of the river, we again passed the Tees Barrage and the canoe course, no kayakers braving the water today. We continued along the cycle track, passing Portrack Marshes with a bit of wind assistance and made our way back to Newport Bridge. An art installation picture frame was the ideal spot for a photo opportunity before we retraced our tyre tracks back to home. The first drops from what turned out to be a hefty rain shower hit us just as we turned into our street, so perfect timing really.

0% Chance Of Rain.

Could have fooled me, low, grey clouds, replete with moisture, occasionally riven by blustery wind to reveal an optimistic patch of blue sky. Always on the verge of a downpour, although it never actually happened. Me and The Breadlad today, another Great Ayton start. Is it the fine riding on offer or the Cooplands meal deal? We rode directly up to Gribdale and continued upward to the woods below Captain Cook’s Monument. A simple sentence which glosses over the pain and agony of a seven hundred foot ascent. All to check out the promise of a track in the woods, one I spotted the other day. It turned out to be okay, in the way that chips without salt are okay but could be better. A narrow trail through closely packed conifers on a bed of pine needle snow, gently descending to a grassy fire road; a bit of exploration and we found another trail, cutting diagonally across a steep hillside, off-camber, lots of slippery roots trying to plunge us down the hillside, a nice addition to our portfolio of routes which will be better in the dry. Eventually we found ourselves on a fire road we recognized, remember Terra Trailblazers are never lost, only sometimes temporarily misplaced, which led us back to the Gribdale road.

More climbing took us to a wind-assisted ride across Newton Moor before we headed into Guisborough Woods to avail ourselves of the large variety of trails on offer, mainly sticking to the shelter of the trees because the wind was becoming fiercer. We moved out into the open to finish the ride, hike-a-biking halfway up Roseberry Topping to turn off onto the bridleway known as Clatter and Bang, which leads to The Folly, a piece of architectural whimsy below the cliff face of the hill. A quick photo stop at The Folly, before an absolute horde of walkers descending from the summit of Roseberry Topping caught up with us. Why do they have to go everywhere mob-handed? Safety in numbers in case a flock of marauding sheep decide to turn nasty? Further bridleways took us down and through the woods to emerge on the outskirts of Great Ayton, ready to sample the delights of Cooplands the bakers. We ate our meal deal on a bench by the river, buffeted by wind, the threat of incipient rain looming over us, watching diners in The Buck, the warm, dry Buck, eating their meals and perhaps pondering on the life choices of two mud-splattered retards sitting across the road.