Laughter In The Rain

Another one of those exploration type of days, delving into the secret trails, whose pleasures are hidden behind a jungle of bracken this time of year. The green menace is getting wilder, higher and more profuse, as one-time Terra Trailblazer, The Captain used to say in these circumstances, “It’s about time the council did something about this...” I think there is more chance of seeing The Ginger One spending some of his ample disposable income on a new bike and rejoining us. Me and Simon T, rode up to Captain Cook’s from Great Ayton, messed about in the woods for a bit, then rode across to Guisborough Woods and did the same. That about sums up the ride. I spent some time explaining the Major Tom (our guide in Spain) trail grading system to Simon. Whenever hazards lay ahead, Tom would warn us and describe them as “a bit spicy”. A little vague for inadequates like us, we persuaded him to introduce sub-grades based on the curry scale, so an easy track, something like a blue route at a trail centre, would be a korma, reds might be madras and blacks vindaloo. Anything so far out of our league it may as well be in the Red Bull Rampage would of course be a phall. Works pretty well, give it a try on your local trails. To sum up our ride, we baulked on some vindaloos (owing to the wet conditions, you understand), rode some madras’s and cruised a few kormas. Of course, Spain doesn’t have the bracken problem which infests out trails or the little passengers it delivers. Five ticks to extract when I got home, they just love me for some reason. Do I have an ovine odour? More felling is taking place in Guisborough, some old favourite trails have gone, including Les's 3, which was one of the original official routes of the forest. Despite the showers, we managed to stay dry for most of the ride, apart from the last ten minutes, as we were pedalling back to Great Ayton the rain became more prolonged but we were too close to shelter to stop and drag coats on. Luckily the butcher’s shop has a substantial awning to shelter beneath while we pondered the cornucopia of pastry wrapped comestibles on display in the window.

Bye bye Les's 3

Peaceful Easy Feeling

Today’s ride was carefully chosen to be a bracken-free experience, open moorland and wide tracks to keep me away from certain little blood-sucking arachnids which love me more than fat kids love chicken nuggets. I wasn’t wholly successful in avoiding bracken but at least the ride was tick free, it is well on the way to triffid-like domination. Imagine if it didn’t die in winter, we’d be living in a green world. I parked up at Birk Brow and headed straight for the Quaker’s Causeway, exactly one week since me and Miles were in exactly the same spot, this week I was alone. I rode the whole causeway to the Castleton road, dropped down the road to the Shaun The Sheep bus shelter, so called because of the Karl Striker (Teesside's Banksy) mural on the inside. Turning right at the bus shelter, I got onto a bridleway leading to Commondale, a little thick bracken to contend with but at least it was dry. Another bridleway passes by Foul Green Farm, following the Esk Valley Line towards Castleton. The Pensioner and The Breadlad once mistook Foul Green Farm for a cafe, plonked themselves down at a picnic table and asked the farmer’s wife for a pot of tea for two and a menu when she came out to see why two strange men were sitting in her yard. A pair of Llamas in a field beside the bridleway seem content to have swapped South America for North Yorkshire and provide an interesting photo opportunity. The bridleway crosses the Castleton road and continues through Danby Park, terminating in the village of Danby, from where a long climb takes me up to Danby Beacon. Cool and breezy but at least the rain is staying away for a few hours. A newly resurfaced 4x4 track takes me down to Oakley Walls, the dolomite which has been spread liberally over the original Somme-like ruts is finally becoming consolidated so riding down is no longer an exercise in gravel surfing. Nowhere near as much fun as it was previously though, riding in and out of metre deep ruts left by the wobbly heads in their all wheel drive monsters. From Oakley Walls, I pedalled to Robin Hood’s Butts via Clitherbeck Farm, riding the whole length of Robin Hood’s Butts back to the Shaun The Sheep bus shelter, ready to retrace my outward route. Yes, the Quaker’s Causeway twice in the same ride; a bit of route planning which would meet outright refusal from some of our companions - those with buttocks made from cotton wool and fairy dust. My glutes are made from sterner stuff and it wasn’t long before we were queuing at the burger van, ready to replace some vital calories.