Good Friday Fun
I bet not one of the gadgies crucified on that Friday thought there was anything good about it, although how an anniversary can be on a different day every year baffles me. Then again, as the saying goes, if you could reason with religious people, there would be no religion. Anyway, it was alright for three of our day workers because they managed a day off to join me at an unseasonably cold and windy Birk Brow. The Youth, SuperBri and Miles are all ready for an introduction to the woods above Margrove Park, trails courtesy of local legend, one man and his dog, Ralph (with Max). A wee bit squelchy in places but we managed a few decent runs before moving on to Guisborough Woods for more of the same, mainly riding on Ralph’s trails near the concrete road. Our fun tainted by thinking of the ascent of Birk Brow necessary to reach our vehicles and the all important burger van.
Muddy Monday.
Easter Monday, if you have any chocolate eggs left, you’ve failed to take advantage of Easter Sunday’s calorie amnesty. Still a Bank Holiday, weather still outstanding in its mediocrity, same personnel as the previuos ride apart from The Youth who found something better to do with his time. We congregated in a layby outside Castleton before riding uphill toward the Shaun The Sheep bus shelter, three quarters of a mile up the hill Miles realises he is now three quarters of a mile away from his water bottle, which is still in the car. A bit of extra training for him then. Me and SuperBri took the obligatory pictures with Shaun The Sheep. Miles returned with his bottle and we took ourselves along Robin Hood’s Butts, eventually arriving at a cold, windy and surprisingly deserted Danby Beacon. The highlight of the ride, Roxby Moor singletrack, came next, enjoyable as ever. The Slagbag was as unenjoyable as ever, especially for SuperBri who snapped his chain, such is the awesome, superhuman power of his legs. A steady plod up Lealholm Rigg took us back to Danby Beacon for a descent of the old 4x4 track, now resurfaced in the Spanish style, a few million fist-sized rocks for us to gravel-surf to Oakley Walls. A quick scoot along Clitherbecks, followed by The Flying Bees took us into Danby; we passed through the village, continuing to Danby Park, the water bottle detour extra mileage beginning to tell on Miles, as were the muddy patches approaching Danby Park. The ground is still suffering from the wettest March in the history of wet Marchs and Miles had already done a fair few miles. A steep lump of tarmac stood between us and our picnics, nothing for it but to pedal. It wasn’t as bad as it looked. Well, for me and SuperBri, Miles may have had a different opinion.
Bowscale Tarn and Latrigg
A day over the Lakes today, joining The Breadlad at his mobile palace beside the A66, in the shadow of the mighty Blencathra. We headed up to Bowscale Tarn high in the fells between the hamlets of Mungrisdale and Mosedale, one of The Breadlad’s regular routes but a new one for me. A steady ascent on a decent path, typical Lakes’ style, embedded rocks with the occasional rock garden to liven things up and pleasantly mud free. The descent was a lot more fun than the climb up, the tarn was almost deserted, calm and clear. We took a few pictures before hitting the descent. Unusually we’ve been having east winds all week, our ride toward Keswick from the tarn was with a tailwind, turning us into the cycling gods we always knew we were. Being mountain bikers, or masochists, our ride to Keswick took in an ascent of Latrigg, once described by my brother as “the pimple on the arse of Skiddaw”. I prefer the more eloquent, foothill. It still feels like a mountain when you’re climbing up from the valley. The main reason for riding up Latrigg is the descent of Spooney Green Lane to Keswick, if you pick a quiet weekday to avoid the miserable-faced walkers who return our cheery greetings with a passive aggressive glare, the joys of life having bypassed them somewhere on the walk up. A quick call into the North Lakes metropolis of Keswick before we took the delightfully flat railway track back to Threlkeld. A further couple of miles pedalling and we were back at The Breadlad’s little hideaway, where he goes to wind down and recharge from his international jet setting lifestyle.
This Time Next Week...
This time next week it will be enjoying our annual sojourn to the sierras of the Costa Del Sol and hopefully it will be significantly warmer than North Yorkshire in late April. A blast from the past today as The Cruncher rejoins the mountain biking world. We met at Great Ayton and headed into Guisborough Woods for a scrounge about the trails, well, the dry ones anyway. It turned out dry trails were few and far between and we managed a fair bit of character-building mud splodging, something I’m sure The Cruncher has missed through wasting far too much time on silly road rides. We made our way up to Highcliffe Nab, admiring the view while being buffeted by a stiff easterly. A wind assisted descent of Codhill Heights took us to the road at Percy Cross Rigg, from where we made our way to Gribdale and a bit of road riding back to Great Ayton. It’s been a while since Great Ayton had the pleasure of my company, probably more than a month but Cooplands The Bakers is still closed. No more meal deals then. Luckily the butchers shop is still present and correct, luring us with a delectable window full of pastry-wrapped animal flesh.
Clicking on the route names will take you to the Strava page for the route. Where you can marvel at how slow we are.
