Slithering About With Miles.

First ride of November and in contrast to the last fortnight of October, which was better than the summer, November’s temperatures are returning to average and the sun seems to have ticked the box for no publicity, spending its time on this side of the earth skulking behind thick cloud. Miles has jumped off the hamster wheel of productivity for a few hours to have a scrounge about the woods, exploring trials old and new. The new Stripes, which has been resurrected following the tree cull and (according to Strava) been renamed Red Stripe was fun, slippery autumn leaves keeping things interesting. We climbed back up and made our way across towards Roseberry Common, introducing Miles to the trail behind Little Roseberry, which he has somehow missed. A few more trails took us slithering down through the woods before we made our way back to Guisborough, for me to return home to my retired layabout existence and Miles to add a bit more to the country’s GDP.

In The Misty Morning Light

As Seventies superstar Gilbert O’Sullivan once sang, alone again naturally. Took myself off to Blakey Ridge for a bit of Rosedale riding today, The Lion Inn was invisible through the mist which is often a regular feature this time of year. The plan was to do the Rosedale Half Round which, unsurprisingly, is a truncated version of the well known Rosedale Round. Basically, along the rail track to Chimney Bank, down the bank into Rosedale, up onto the East Side rail track, around the head of the valley and back to the car. Today I had a slight detour to photograph Ana Cross, before returning to Chimney Bank. On Rosedale Abbey village green, erstwhile Terra Trailblazer, The Fireman, was chilling under a tree with his skinny-tyred bike. Nice to see he is still getting out, unlike the majority of our former companions. This ride begins gradually downhill, turning steeply downhill into Rosedale Abbey, after seven miles of gravity-friendly riding , the inevitable occurs and it is time to start climbing. In a reverse of the first half, steeply at first, passing The Pensioner’s favourite sign, Bell End Farm, ( I swear I can still hear him sniggering), then more gradual along the rail track. The mist began to dissipate, occasional glimpses of blue sky became more prolonged giving great views around the valley, all the way back to the car.

Riding In The Russet

A nice bright Monday morning for what turned out to be the only ride this week and I can’t even remember why it was the only ride. Set off from Swainby and pedalled toward Sheepwash, grinding up onto Scarth Wood Moor just to head back down the hill on the track we call Olly’s Folly after the unfortunate youth who managed to break his ankle riding down. It is still fun. I carried on around the reservoir and up to High Lane, making my way to Silton Woods to ride a few trails through the golden brown carpet of leaves. Leaving Silton behind, I headed back to High Lane for a scrounge about the trails in the woods above the reservoir, stopping at the reservoir for a few pictures of the autumn colours. And then it was downhill all the way back to Swainby.

Too Cold For Downhills.

There comes a point every year when we change from summer gloves to winter gloves, start wearing an extra layer and maybe wear a coat when it isn’t raining. I wish it had been the ride before this one. Despite the temperature (allegedly) not being below freezing, this ride was colder than a penguin’s ankles, I threw in a few extra ascents just to keep warm. The ride was nothing out of the ordinary, Great Ayton start, through the farms, up the steps, Percy Cross Rigg, Codhill Heights, around the woods and back. But the views were magnificent, blue skies, wispy clouds and autumnal golden goodness from fallen leaves and the demise of the bracken. Some of the overgrown trails are reappearing from beneath their summer canopy of bracken. Perfect weather for photographs, when I could feel my fingers to press the buttons.

Frozen...

Definitely colder than the last ride but I was prepared this time, winter gloves, extra layer, coat. Parked at Hutton Village for a change, so I could finish the ride on some different trails, which all turned out to be frozen solid and grippier than the grippiest thing in Grippyland. Except for the frozen puddles. Another blue sky day, pleasantly windless, a pleasure to be out on the moors and not one thought was given to those unfortunate souls incarcerated by employment. There is a new trail which runs in three sections, from almost the top of the woods to Hutton Village, this was earmarked as my finish. Very enjoyable, some swoopy up and down bits through the woods which need plenty of momentum for a no-dabs ride. I’ll do better next time. The choice between climbing back up through the woods to ride more trails or an easy cruise along the road to my car wasn’t a difficult one. The car held hot coffee and food.

Bright And Breezy

Another blue sky day, although the temperatures have now returned to double figures after a few nippy days. A Scaling Dam start today, accompanied by my usual companion, Mr. Nobody, at least I’ll be able to have a sensible conversation. Today's route was nothing if not familiar but none the worse for that. From the car park, the most minor of minor roads took me to High Tranmire Farm, where I turned off and followed a rough track to Hardale Beck and its alleged ford - I’d like to see someone drive through, it gets larger every visit, now resembling a small pond. Once this is negotiated, you are faced with The Slagbag, a short but brutal climb on grass and gravel, levelling out on Thorn Hill, where you can get your breath back/vomit/pass out* (*delete as applicable). The track continues to pick up tarmac on the other side of the hamlet of Green Houses. More tarmac, into a strengthening headwind, took me along Oakley Walls until a welcome return to gravel and mud at the bridleway to Clitherbeck Farm. From the farm I followed the road to Danby Beacon, stopping for my first breather of the ride and a few pictures prior to heading down the unsurfaced Lealholm Rigg for half a mile or so until I reached a bridleway on the left. We have always called this the Roxby Moor singletrack, even though it is predominantly double track, on Strava it is Brown Rigg singletrack, either way it is a glorious mile or so across a heather moor, the blue water of Scaling Reservoir glinting in the distance. And the headwind became a tailwind for this section, the sun was out and all was good with the world. From a dip in the middle, the track climbs gently to reach the road to High Tranmire Farm which was part of the outward route. A short bit of tarmac leads back to the car park, from where a short drive takes us to the highlight of the ride - the Birk Brow burger van.

Could Have Done With Being A Bit More Frozen

A frosty start generally means nice, firm trails - not today unfortunately. A slight thaw meant everything was just soft enough to be draggy on the uphills and slippery on the downs. Another Great Ayton start but with Captain Cook’s Monument as the first objective, using an indirect route to check the condition of a few tracks on the way. Arriving at the monument, a few people were wandering about, Captain Cook’s must be almost as popular as Roseberry Topping as a destination. A couple of years ago, we visited the monument in Australia where Captain Cook landed in 1770, the town and the year. The town is the only one in the world which has numbers for its name, named from the year Middlesbrough’s most famous son claimed the continent for the British Commonwealth. The native aborigines may not be wholly congruent with this arrangement. Judging by the monument, I don’t think the Australians are that keen either, it is a post box size cairn with a small plaque, nothing like the imposing monolith on Easby Moor I am standing beneath. Putting all thoughts of historical mariners behind me, a pedestrian free route to Gribdale was engineered, although it wasn’t free from fallen trees, necessitating a bit of clambering. From Gribdale, the only way is up, unless it was to be a very brief ride, so I rode up onto Newton Moor, around the Lonsdale Bowl and up Percy Cross Rigg to reach Guisborough Wood and skirting around the top of the woods to Little Roseberry. After all these years I have just found out the track around the back of Little Roseberry has a name, on Strava maps anyway, Bridlegill Road, who knew? The lure of the animal flesh wrapped in pastry was becoming hard to ignore, so I continued in a downward direction to the butchers in Great Ayton.