Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

The start of another week and I am at Scaling Dam again, exactly two weeks since I was comprehensively saturated in the same area. Hopefully there won’t be rain of that magnitude again. In fact things looked quite promising in the weather department, as I rode along the dam, Scaling reservoir flat calm in the sunlight of an autumn morning, framed by russet shades of dying bracken and leaf-shedding trees. I rode further inland, passing through High Tranmire farmyard until The Slagbag reared its ugly head, the lower end guarded by an ever expanding Hardale Beck, a few minutes of puffing and panting later and I’m riding across flat moor before dropping down to Green Houses, a tiny enclave of with two or three houses in a green valley. From here, tarmac to Lealholm RIgg, where I turn off onto the stoney track, following it a short distance before heading down to the Oakley Walls road. I could have rode Lealholm Rigg all the way up to Danby Beacon but that would have meant a very short ride. A steady plod along Oakley Walls brought me to the Clitherbeck bridleway, Watersplash singletrack as it known on Strava, the water splashes are very much in evidence today, this was the point a fortnight ago where the drenching started, thankfully there was none of that behaviour today. The dry conditions have given the estate workers a chance to torch a bit of heather, setting fire to thick, old growth so that next spring, new shoots can be easily accessed by young grouse. Unfortunately I was downwind of this particular piece of land management, even though it was a couple of miles away, the air was hazy with smoke and I soon smelt like a kipper. I made my way up the Pannierman’s Causeway, some of the recent soft patches are now hub-deep, wheel sucking mud, I found out the hard way, a patch which was rideable a fortnight ago detained my bike and gave it a cavity search. A mile or so of tarmac took me from the Pannierman’s Causeway to Danby Beacon, followed by the superlative bridleway over Roxby Moor. It has been recently treated to a fresh coating of gravel, which slows things down a bit but hopefully, will improve the riding during the claggy months. A fine finish to any ride. I was soon back at Scaling Dam, bike on the roof rack and up the road to the burger van at Birk Brow for some proper cyclists’ nutrition.

Grease Is The Word

And here I am back in Great Ayton, parked up by the river, a sure sign either there is a dodgy forecast or I can’t think of anywhere better to go. It was the latter today. Rode up to Gribdale, for a change, continuing past the car park, through Oak Tree Farm and up the Nab End track, Nab End is all rideable since it was resurfaced a couple of years ago - more’s the pity because it is a tough climb but was an “interesting” descent of rocks and roots, deep gullies and narrow ridges. I kept an eye out for interesting fungi to stop and photograph as I panted upward, the significant word here being stop; unfortunately none of the usual crop of bright red, picturesque, photo-competition winning, fly agarics were interested in modelling today and I had no excuse to stop until the gate at the top. From here, a quick blast along Percy Cross Rigg and down to Sleddale before I was climbing again, on the more amenable track up Codhill Heights, which culminates at a handy seat behind Highcliffe Nab. After a quick snack, I made my way to the base of the cliffs which form Highcliffe Nab and launched myself down one of the trails which run to the fireroad, Magic Mushroom, I think. It was not the pleasant, flowing downhill track of summer months, more a coalescence of mud and wet roots, often hidden beneath a rug of equally slippery leaves. Suffice to say it was not my best performance. I made my way through the forest on equally mediocre trails until I found myself on a trail called FloRida, which runs through a heavily wooded (for now) section of forest and was in remarkably good condition compared to everywhere else. The area of the forest at the western edge, nearest Roseberry Topping is in the early stages of being felled, some access tracks have been bulldozed through the trees, it looks as though all the trails in the Homage To The Loamage area will soon be memories. I got a few in while I still can before riding up the hill to Roseberry Common. I could have rode directly downhill, through Aireyholme Farm and back to Great Ayton from here but my mileage for today had only just scraped into double figures, so I shouldered the bike and hiked up the steps onto Newton Moor, riding across the moor so I could enjoy the delights of Fingerbender Bank (named after one of The Pensioner’s unfortunate accidents) followed by the rocky descent to Gribdale. From Gribdale, I retraced my tyre tracks to Great Ayton.

Happy Birthday

Windscreen wipers slapping time (showing my age there) all the way to the start, this was definitely what we used to call a “Who Dares Wins” ride. In the face of an appalling forecast, 80% chance of rain, me and The Breadlad met up in Great Ayton (yes, again), mainly because neither of us wanted to be the first to back down. Amazingly, the rain stopped as we parked up and didn’t trouble us for the remainder of the day. More amazingly, The Breadlad was early, that’s two rides in a row, I swear he’s sleeping in his car in a layby somewhere. Not quite trusting our luck with the weather, we had a road warm up, pedalling to KIldale before leaving tarmac behind at New Row and heading up the Yellow Brick Road to Percy Cross Rigg. At a gate, tarmac stops and off-road fun begins, climbing up to the World War 2 building, then dropping to the gate at the top of The Unsuitables, one of the entrances to Guisborough Forest. The remainder of the ride was more or less similar to the previous one, FloRida and Homage To The Loamage amongst others, all suffering after the early morning rain. By the time we had made our way onto Roseberry Common, the cloud had dissipated like The Ginger One’s interest in mountain biking and we were basking under sunshine and blue sky. Well, basking in our smugness at not bailing on the ride. And the happy birthday? It turns out it is one year today since my Whyte was first introduced to the delights of North Yorkshire, coincidently riding from Great Ayton on that day too. Our return route took us through Fletcher’s Farm, so we took advantage of the farm shop for scones and hot drinks, sitting at tables in a barn rather than mingle with the clean people in the main cafe. How do people manage to go into the countryside and stay clean? In one of his more philosophical moments, The Breadlad summed it up perfectly, we were in a cafe somewhere, muddy, sweaty and filled with post-ride endorphins, looking at the clean people surrounding us.

“We got out and do something, then go to the cafe. For these people going to the cafe is doing something. That’s no way to live a life.”