Some Like It Hot

For the first time this month I managed a companion, although you may not believe me as he (or she?) must remain incognito for reasons of national security, or was it job security? Plus they are suffering from a condition which requires rides to be short, risk-free and not too bumpy - not their usual style at all. The no publicity box has been ticked, the NDA signed, no images will be published, covert name assigned - The Phantom. The weather remains warm, although it is tending toward humid, me and The Phantom met, away from prying eyes, in the car park at Ingleby Greenhow. We pedalled to Battersby and embarked on an ascent of Coleson Banks, a gruesome 600’ height gain in slightly over a mile. Labouring slowly upward, we became a perspiring buffet for every fly in North Yorkshire, eventually the Cleveland Way sign at the junction with Baysdale road came into view and we knew we’d cracked it. More climbing followed, essentially a reversal of last Monday’s route, crossing Ingleby Moor and ascending the Old Coal Road to rejoin the Cleveland Way at Burton Howe, high above Greenhow Botton, which nestles in a horseshoe of hills surrounding the valley on three sides. The Phantom and I headed north on the wide, gravel track, descending a loose corner, the scene of one of The Pensioner’s more spectacular tumbles which resulted in a grazed hip and six months of moaning. We continued unscathed, still following the Cleveland Way until we could turn off onto the singletrack which provides a more enjoyable route to Turkey Nab (Ingleby Bank as the Ordnance Survey insist on calling it). About half way down the bank, an undulating alternative appears running parallel with the gravel road, as alternatives go it is usually pretty good fun, however Mr. Bracken and his extended family were in control today, swamping the narrow track with green fronds and fibrous stalks. The Phantom bailed back onto the main track at the earliest opportunity but I decided to show Mr. Bracken who was boss, mainly by body-slamming it into submission while verdant tendrils held the bike fast. I emerged from the vegetation, victorious but probably with more ticks than a first term register. We pointed ourselves towards a few trails in the plantation below us, old favourites, unfortunately also suffering from bracken overgrowth; forget Day Of The Triffids, I’m sure, given the chance bracken would take over the world. But at least the winter sorts it out. We had a play on the trails which weren’t completely covered but hunger gradually lured back to our picnics; even phantoms need to eat, the strain of all that undercover stuff builds up an appetite.

Cruel Summer

After yesterday’s heat and humidity, today we just have the humidity, in fact, so much humidity the windscreen wipers were on all the way to Swainby. Or perhaps we should just admit it was raining, the fickle English summer reverting to its stereotype. Just me and The Phantom again, ready to battle against whatever North Yorkshire could throw at us - and it had a good go. Another short but sweet route today, up Scugdale, Brian’s Pond, Carlton Bank, Faceby Woods, Heathwaite and back to Swainby. We managed to remain coatless until Brian’s Pond, where the rain ramped up a couple of gears from mere drizzle, aided by a frigid wind straight from the icy wastes of Siberia. A cruel summer indeed. From Carlton Bank we made our way to Faceby Woods and spent a bit of time channelling our inner teenagers on the tracks and jumps. We could do this without fear of embarrassment because the real teenages are all back at school. When our poor old legs could take no more of pushing up the steep trails, we followed the Cleveland Way track back to Heathwaite, where a couple of miles of tarmac took us back to Swainby and a cold, damp picnic in the bus shelter beside the toilets. We know how to live.

Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger.

The next morning we're back to blue skies, albeit with a noticeable drop in temperature. In view of The Phantom’s delicate condition, something less arduous in the ascent department was the order of the day, so we had a Scaling Dam start, parking at the east end car park for a change. Farm tracks lead us to Hardale Beck and The Slagbag, which is a hideous climb by any standards. In deference to The Phantom we both walked it, knowing it would be the only significant climb of the day. The drop down to Green Houses was even more fun today because the gate halfway down the rough track was open. After Green Houses the track becomes tarmac, we rode unimpeded all the way to Oakley Walls, chancing upon a Terra Trailblazers original, The Fireman, whose riding has taken a different direction - cycle touring. It was good to catch up and we spent some time standing by the side of the road gossiping like fish wives. The Phantom and I resumed our off road adventuring, pedalling the gravel track to Clitherbeck Farm, continuing up the road to Robin Hood’s Butts, before enjoying the Sis Cross bridleway, exactly one week from when I last had the pleasure. Today’s descent was far from the dry, flowing, dab-free, poetry in motion of last week; yesterday’s rain put paid to that, arid gullies have reverted to muddy puddles, something we can probably look forward to all the way until next May. A bit of gentle climbing followed, up the Pannierman’s Causeway to the Danby Beacon road, more climbing took us to the beacon, which was crowded with people, most of them wearing North York Moors guide shirts. Not used to seeing such a congregation, we moved on to the significantly more quiet Roxby Moor and pointed ourselves down the track. For the first time ever, I was the one vanishing into the distance, The Phantom taking a more cautious approach while tasting my dust. The track begins to climb over the moor, changing from gravelled doubletrack to wide, sandy bridleway. After a mile or so, it joins the farm road we started on and we retraced our tyre tracks back to Scaling Dam for the third car park picnic of the week, at one of the thoughtfully provided picnic tables, literally basking in the sun, which has gained a bit of heat since we set off.