An Unwelcome Thaw.

The first ride of what turned out to be a lonely week, maybe the side effects of my gut microbiome increasing diet are putting them off, perhaps curry and Guinness are not as probiotic as I imagined they would be. After an unpromising start, the weather improved a little - well, it wasn’t actually raining which is always a bonus. What it is doing is thawing, leaving Guisborough Woods looking like the aftermath of a power cut in a freezer shop; puddles have reverted to liquid, mud is back in its dragging, cloying nuisance state and yet there were more people about than a sunny Bank Holiday. Despite the thaw, the top of The Unsuitables still remains a sheet of thick ice, it is possible to walk around it on the grass verge either side but plenty of folks were still risking a broken elbow by trying to short cut across the ice. Today was another predominantly fire road ride, diverting to the occasional, carefully considered trail, for a bit of excitement before hunger got the better of me and I retraced my tyre tracks back to Great Ayton. I ate a late lunch on a bench by the river with only a vigilant gull for company, just waiting to pounce on any crumbs trying to escape the journey to my alimentary canal. He was unlucky.

Hamsterley Hot Lap. Version 2:6

Seven quid to have a rest from the constant mud of North Yorkshire didn’t seem too high a price to pay. Another day at Hamsterley, switch off the brain and follow the signs riding and another variation of our Hot Lap, which paradoxically involves switching on the brain and ignoring the signs. Hamsterley has some of the best trails in the country but linking them up by following the red route is akin to Dante’s eighth circle of Hell, miles of pointless fire road, meandering through dark conifer plantations for no apparent purpose. Hence the hot lap concept, everyone will have their own variations, anyone who returns after the initial disappointment of the official route anyway. I bet there are a few who try it once and never return. Anyway, this new variation returns to the old, anti-clockwise loop, beginning with Pikes Teeth, this time utilising a different start which misses out Gorse Bush Alley and isn’t as brutally steep as following the black arrows. After Pikes Teeth comes Rocky Road to the stream, then the climb to Oddsox, maybe slipping in Route 666 for those in a particularly masochistic frame of mind. The name of the two trails after Oddsox always escapes me but do them next, to the valley floor, turning left toward The Grove followed by a massive fire road climb which (eventually) leads to Polties Last Blast, the beginning of Hamsterley’s quintessential quintet; Polties, K Line, Transmission, Accelerator and Nitrous, five varied trails leading back down into the valley behind The Grove. Which only leaves one more climb to finish the lap, unfortunately the climb in question being Cough Up A Lung Lane. The name says it all. If you are still in possession of both lungs when you arrive at Descend car park, pass through the car park to the start of Section 13 from where another four quality trials will let you plummet down the hillside like a downhill god. Section 13, Boneshaker, Special K and Brainfreeze, all old trails with a more natural character to the trails on the other side of the valley. Warm down on the gentle Gruffalo trail and it’s over. This incarnation takes in all the trails of the other hot laps in a shorter distance but with a similar amount of climbing, so it felt a lot more arduous. Perhaps it won’t become the most popular variation.

Greyer Than A Pensioners Coach Trip.

Opening the curtains to be greeted with a vista of steady drizzle is never the best way to begin a day but by the time I was ready to venture out into the wild grey yonder, things were improving and the sun was attempting to force its way through the clouds. It turns out we had an extremely localised ray of hope, everything south of the Tees was blanketed in dark dampness. The further south I went, the lower the cloud became, at Sheepwash it skimmed the road. Still didn’t stop the car park being almost full though, dog walkers don’t let a bit of precipitation put them off - unlike mountain bikers because for the third time this week I had the same number of companions as I have ovaries. The Whyte has never had the pleasure of riding up the Mad Mile, although pleasure might not be the correct word, compared to the last foray, heavier bike, harder gear ratio (I want my 52 back!) and lacking fitness, combined with a draggy, saturated track made today’s attempt somewhat more challenging. I made it. A panting, snivelling wreck of a man I might have been but I have still got it. The cairn at the top is always a welcome sight after 400 feet of ascent in a mile. The remainder of the ride felt like a pootle down the cycle tracks, following the Hambleton Drove Road south, in and out of low cloud. A coffee at High Paradise Farm would have been welcome but according to the sign on the gate she is only open July and August nowadays. A pedal across a soggy Dale Town Common took me to the top section of Arden Bank, rejoining the Drove Road to retrace my tracks back to Sheepwash, the highlight being, of course, payback from the gravity bank with a descent of the Mad Mile, 400 feet in a mile is a lot more fun in the downward direction. The Hambleton Drove Road continues all the way to the ford at Sheepwash, more or less downhill all the way, a superb finish to a ride. Low winter sun began to break through the clouds just as I arrived in the car park. About typical.