The Hottest November Day On Record.

Mountain Bike Ride.

The Pensioner.

1st November Route.

The first day of November, riding in short sleeves and shorts, if this global warming bring it on. Of course, The Pensioner managed a more pessimistic outlook, “We’re going to pay for this later you know. It’ll be a terrible winter.” Etcétera, etcétera. Getting behind the whole mindfulness thing (this season’s latest psychobabble) and living in the moment, I was content to let the sun caress my bare arms and not even entertain the concept of snow, ice and cold for a few more hours. Oddly, considering it was a sunny Sunday and the last day of the half term holiday, Danby was pretty much deserted, not quite tumbleweeds blowing down the High Street but very few people about.

Eventually, after The Pensioner had locked and unlocked his car a dozen or so times, forgetting to get stuff out, forgetting to put things in, we set off riding - as far as the T junction at the end of the road, where he returned to his car to get his cycling helmet. Take two and we’re off, pedalling steadily up the road to Ainthorpe, then taking the bridleway over Ainthorpe Rigg, now completely sanitised which makes it a lot less fun to ride down but considerably easier to ride up. The descent of Crossley Side is always good to go down, starting as a rocky gully which opens out to a grassy path. Worth the ride up without a doubt. From the corner where New Way meets the Fryup road, we made our way to Stonebeck Gate Farm intending to take the bridleway to Crag Wood but after some discussion decided against it as it would probably involve some mud-plugging and it was too nice a day to be struggling through a morasse. We became road riders for the next few miles, riding through scenic splendour to end up in Lealholm, then Houlsyke, then the painful drag up Oakley Side to the Oakley Walls road. Having a breather after the ascent, we basked in the sun, taking in the view, looking south to the head of Fryupdale, slightly misty in the distance; fog or heat haze?

The siren call of the cafe, paradoxically soundless but nevertheless insistent, lured us onward, retracing our route of a few days ago, past Castleton Pits to Clitherbeck Farm, both agreeing it was not as fast the other day, feeling damp and draggy - or maybe just lacking Monday’s tail wind. The last section down into Danby, The Lord’s Turnpike features some big puddles but the finish is always good, downhill and generally dry, ending practically at the car park, mud-spattered and sweating. Sweating in November? Mud baked on by the sun, not shivering as we loaded bikes into cars; a whole winter like this? Yes please.

It being Sunday, the Stonehouse Bakery is closed, The Pensioner, for whom a ride without tea is as unthinkable as optimism, gaiety and glee, relied on his local knowledge and we retired to Castleton Tea Rooms for our post-ride calorie replacement. Still rather less full than would be expected, it being such a marvellous day; is there some other way of spending a sunny Sunday we don’t know about? And would it be more fun than riding a bike?

October Round Up and Video

October Round Up and Video

Don’t like words? Straight to video - click here.

Another good month’s riding but the best thing about October is we start the winter shift pattern, day people look away now; 12 shifts per month, that is 6 days and 6 nights, or more importantly 18 days off, every month, from now until May. And people still want to retire.

October is always the Lakeland Monster Miles month, a good ride in decent weather, The Fireman and me cross biking the, surprisingly dry lakeland fells. Chairman Whelan organised another cross bike ride for us on our local moors, I also managed a couple of MTB rides which meant I ended up doing over 100 miles and 11,500 feet of ascent in a week.

The rest of the month consisted of mountain bike rides and the usual BNQ’s (Before Nights Quickies), the roads are now covered in wet leaves make for some interesting cornering on the cross bike. It has been a fairly mild month and mostly dry for our rides although the days when it did rain left a great deal of standing water around the moors.

Some weekend riding happened when our days off were unfortunate to fall on weekends, it appears Sunday drivers really do exist. The Hyundai i20 which always appears in front when we are making our way along country roads, multiplies on a weekend, invariably being driven to a garden centre at two thirds of the speed limit by some silver-top for whom fourth gear is merely a concept which they may try if a dual-carriageway is ever encountered.

Peregrinations With The Pensioner.

Mountain Bike Ride.

The Pensioner, The Fireman

26th October route

Dull but dry said the weatherman. Some breaks in the cloud allowed rays of sunlight to beam through in a picturesque fashion, all very crepuscular, as The Bread Lad might say; never one to pass up a chance to shoehorn his new favourite word into the conversation. Three of met up under the aforementioned dull sky in Danby. A brief discussion ensued regarding The Pensioner’s current capabilities, before we found ourselves following him up the road toward Clitherbeck Farm. Heading offroad across Castleton Pits, the wind was against us, naturally part of the universe’s great plan to make The Pensioner’s life more difficult and nothing to do with being an autumnal day in late October. A steady drag up the road to Danby Beacon, one of the Terra Trailblazers’ NSP’s (Natural Stopping Points), although the cold wind and lack of views today meant we did not hang about too long. Some sublime singletrack over Roxby Moor beckoned, still pleasantly dry, The Fireman and me took advantage,careening across it as though we were being followed by the hounds of hell, not an irascible sexagenerian.

We took it a bit easier for the next section, making our way to Hardale Beck and it’s unattractively named Strava segment - The Slagbag, a climb as gruesome as its title, steep and loose, lung-burstingly steep, The Fireman cruised up it, me and The Pensioner took things more leisurely. Riding across the moor to Green Houses, we were battling the wind again but the sun began to break through for longer periods; by the time we were on the Oakley Walls road the wind was behind us and everything was well with world. At Oakley Side, a group decision was made to retrace our tyre tracks to Clitherbeck, wind and gravity assisted riding getting closer to the cafe; what could be better?

Our final bit of offroad, Lord’s Turnpike, today a bit muddy, a bit damp and against the wind again, fortunately the ultimate section is steeply downhill, passing the famous “Beware Of Flying Bees” sign and down into Danby. The Stonehouse Bakery was fairly full, it being half term but we were able to squeeze around a small table to ensure The Pensioner was not denied his mandatory post-ride pot of tea. Calories replenished, we left the cafe and walked into a summer’s day which had somehow appeared as we ate, a pleasant end to the day unless you are The Pensioner for whom it was merely further evidence of life’s great plot against him because it ought to have been warm and sunny all day.  

                        

Sunday riding. Again?

Mountain Bike Ride.

Dave.

25th October route

Another weekend; another Clay Bank start. Just me and Dave this time and he fancied an old Terra Trailblazers route from 2003, (TTB05) 12 years and one week to the day, not having hungover youths or smoking pensioners this time it ought to be (hopefully) less than a full day epic.

The downhill start through the Greenhow Plantation was a great help to our average speed, although the ascent of Turkey Nab, or Ingleby Bank as it is sometimes known, from Bank Foot Farm brought it back to more realistic levels. A bunch of wobbly-head, One Life: Live it, offroaders had managed to skilfully tip over a Land Rover near the gate, which took away some of the agony of the climb. It did not help the second section which soon degenerated to pedestrianism, owing to the loose surface, nothing to do with our lack of technique or weak legs. The signpost at Tidy Brown Hill, directing Cleveland Way walkers to Kildale, indicates the majority of the climbing is over and it was not without some relief when it crept into vision. Continuing, more easily, along the moor, we were passed by a few groups of motocrossers doing their Sunday thing; each to their own and all that. Our human-powered engines spun pedals relentlessly, onwards toward Bloworth Crossing, then up to Cockayne Head and onward past The Badger Stone, ultimately to Tripsdale, that magnificent track which becomes gradually rockier, steeper and faster as it nears the valley bottom, culminating in some loose hairpins which nave caught out many an unwary Terra Trailblazer over the years.

Tripsdale descent

In mountainbiking, as in life, every pleasure must be paid for and the climb out of Tripsdale is as equally steep and loose as the descent. A lapse in concentration resulted in a lifted front wheel which put paid to my attempt to repeat the only Terra Trailblazer’s dab-free ascent of this track. Eventually we made the top as the sun broke through and a pleasant ride above East Bank Plantation took us to Medd Crag, the now-ruined downhill track to Urra. It appears someone thought it a good idea to bulldoze the bottom part of the track into a smooth carriageway, then abandon it, so it is now just a mass of soft, wet mud and broken rocks.

A long slog up The Raisdale Road followed, steady pedalling regained most of the height we had just lost. Both feeling the pace by now but with only a few miles to go, the cafe was given a swerve and we embarked on The Fronts, that glorious roller-coaster track which passes along the side of Cringle Moor to Broughton Plantation. Things begin to deteriorate from the plantation, the track is sheltered by trees and never seems to dry out properly, the worst section is just after The Wainstones, where things go uphill and traction depends on tyre choice. Today was touch and go, it’s fair to say we shall probably be ignoring this track until about May, unless there is a good frost.

The last half mile is an excellent rock garden leading to a fast bit of fire road before a sharp right finishes the route on a pleasurable high with a slippery, rooty, downhill which spits two tired but happy riders out onto the road opposite Clay Bank car park.

Mingling With Day People.

Mountain Bike Ride.

Dave, Rod.

17th October route

A rare weekend ride for me, a regular occurrence for my two companions, who belong to that curious subspecies of working life: day people. Only shift workers can take the objective view of people who spend Monday to Friday in a work/telly/bed routine, then use their precious time off walking round shops or recovering from hangovers. The occasional day person will maybe grab a few hours riding at the weekend, the really keen ones lash out on high power lights to blunder about the woods after dark on weekdays, when respectable shift-working cyclists have already done a full day’s riding and are relaxing, feet up on the coffee table, smug in the knowledge they enjoyed the empty trails in the hours of daylight. Really demented day people buy turbo-trainers and “ride” in their garages - the less said about that sort of behaviour the better, a bit like the difference between going out for a sociable couple of pints and snorting neat vodka to make sure the alcohol quota is fulfilled.  

We met up at an unusually (to me) full Clay Bank car park and commenced the gruesome plod up Carr Ridge onto Urra Moor, passing Round Hill - the highest point on the North York Moors and continuing on the Cleveland Way toward Bloworth Crossing. The short section which crosses the small stream at High Bloworth has been nicely paved which eradicates the former water-filled, muddy trench, we all expected the stream would have been bridged - it hasn’t. Three sets of forks bottomed out in the unexpected dip. On Rudland Rigg, karmic retribution for laughing at The Ginger One’s pinch-flat on The Mad Mile yesterday was extracted as my own pinch-flat became evident, then my pump decided it couldn’t really be bothered with all that pushing air out business any longer, taking a step down and becoming a mere sliding stick. Luckily Rod was equipped with serviceable pump.

Repair effected, we pedalled onward along Rudland Rigg toward the oddly named Golden Heights, it has to be said that Rudland Rigg is one of the most depressing tracks on the moors, always loose, always rocky, always uphill, no matter which direction you’re heading. It can be considered a necessary evil because there are some gems which make their way down its flanks. We were heading for one now, the bridleway which drops from West Gill Head into Farndale, worth every pedal stroke. Soon we were on it, beginning on a vague indentation through grass which became a more defined track contouring the hillside, carving through bracken, which luckily is starting to die off, continuously interesting, and we managed to reach the road with all our rear mech’s intact - unlike The Pensioner last time he rode this track.

At the road, we turned left and headed northward to the low point of the day - the ride back up to Rudland Rigg from Monket House, viewed from Blakey Ridge, a seemingly vertical ribbon of concrete and gravel; viewed from ground level, a lung-bursting, leg-crippling, heart-pounding torture. Slowly we inched upward, until the angle eased and we could ride without looking monks at an Amsterdam sex show. Regaining Rudland Rigg we essentially retraced our steps back over Round Hill until we could turn off on the interesting bridleway which makes its way down Jackson’s Bank into Greenhow Plantation, from where we followed a muddy fire road back to Clay Bank. A finish more suited to our more mature years than the Carr Ridge steps, which have extracted a toll of bruises and bike parts from us over the years.

Square Corner Again

Mountain Bike Ride

The Ginger One, The Fireman, Disaster Dan.

16th October route

Eight days from our last venture from the windswept Square Corner, we find ourselves here again, shivering in the curious micro-climate as we assemble bikes. The Ginger One managed to drag himself away from his action-packed life as a sport’s spectator and see what it might be like in the real world, outside of 16:9 ratio screen, although not without his iphone to catch up on things during rest moments. The Fireman and MTB virgin Disaster Dan completed our quartet.

A downhill start, just to give Dan a wholly false impression of what mountain biking is all about, took us easily to the SIlton Woods downhill track, which we despatched with our customary style and grace, as usual, clocking Strava times amongst the slowest ever recorded. But no casualties despite the mud and the slippery rocks. Continuing through the forest, we took back roads for a while, into Kepwick village, eschewing Kepwick Bank for a change and continuing through Cowesby until we reached Brickshed Cottage, where we switched to pushing mode for an ascent of the bridleway to Cowesby Moor, now used as a descent by the Sutton Bank Red Route. This would best be described as arduous, however the track across the moor is a delight nowadays, compared to the actual swamp it used to be, having been resurfaced by the Sutton Bank crew. Climbing steadily upwards, we rode through Boltby Forest on fire roads until we reached the Hambleton Drove Road near the boundary stone at Steeple Cross, where we paused to regain our breath, a more elegant way of saying  panting, swearing and stuffing our faces with calorie-dense snacks.

Eventually we made our way to Sneck Yate and along the road to the turn off opposite Wethercote Lane which leads to the path above Boltby Scar, where we headed toward High Barn, taking in the fine views from The Escarpment before riding the best bit of the Sutton Bank Blue Route, the singletrack which goes through down past Boltby Scar and continues downward, our route managed to take in the highlights of the descent before we cut our losses and hiked back up a more direct bridleway to regain High Barn.

Heading North on the Cleveland Way, signs began appearing for a tea room at High Paradise Farm, we would be passing through the farm yard, so it would be rude not to try it out. More signs whetted our appetites, until the final notice which informed the tea room closed for winter at the end of September; the fact that people are hungry in the middle of October obviously irrelevant. Never mind, we swallowed our disappointment and pedaled onward, retracing our steps through the top of Boltby Forest and back on to the Drove Road, pausing only for a play in the bombhole as we left the woods.

A steady drag along the Drove Road, unusually against the wind, began to take it’s toll on our newest recruit and he found himself trailing behind some blokes twice his age. The Ginger One led the way, finding a sudden burst of energy as he realised the quicker he turned the cranks, the sooner he could be back in front of the telly. We regrouped at the top of the Mad Mile, happy in the knowledge it is quite literally - all downhill from here, a glorious descent, somewhat sanitised from previous incarnations but not without the odd interesting section. The Ginger One led the way, speeding off like Danny Hart, for the purposes of filming I brought up the rear, before going into downhill mode, passing Dan, then The Fireman, both riding with caution and common sense as befits people employed in the safety industry, around a bend I went, picking up speed after the loose rock section, clumsily jumping water bars, The Ginger One was in sight, now looking more like Miranda Hart as he pushed his bike dejectedly down the track, victim of another Mad Mile pinch flat. Some rather ungentlemanly sentiments were expressed, verbally and nonverbally as he was overtaken.

More Adventure Biking

Cyclocross Bike Ride.

The Chairman, Oz, Rich.

9th October route

Another sunny Great Ayton start, assembling bikes by the river, Chairman Whelan of The Cafe Racers lured away from pristine tarmac for a bit of buttock-rattling on his cyclo-cross bike, or adventure bike as the manufacturers have christened his bike. The rest of us just used our unadventurous cross bikes. The Chairman wore a particularly fetching black Lycra ensemble which made him look like an emaciated Hoover belt.

Some steady road riding took us to Ingleby Greenhow where our adventure credentials were tested by the ford behind the church,  swollen by the rain earlier in the week, discretion being the better part of valour and all that, we took the handy footbridge provided. Gaining height up the road toward Clay Bank, soon we turned into Greenhow Plantation and followed fire roads to The Incline, two words guaranteed to turn any self-respecting cyclist’s bowels to water, especially those riding high-geared cross bikes. Slowly winching our way up the loose surface, one by one feet hit the floor except for Chairman Whelan whose policy of treating the E shift hedonistic one a.m. cream cake feasts as something more unthinkable than a depraved crystal meth orgy in a Darlington squat is paying off. He made it to the gate and even attempted the even looser and steeper top section, if he had managed it he would have made a name for himself - that name would have began with C, and it wouldn’t be Colin.

Once things levelled out we kept following the old rail track which contours the moors to the valley of Rosedale, an engineering feat which must have entailed hundreds of 19th century man hours as the demand for steel grew with the Industrial Revolution. Six miles of almost flat riding, cranking along, taking in the views across Farndale to Rudland Rigg. Crossing the road at the top of Blakey Bank, another disused rail line beckoned, running high above Rosedale, passing relics of the mining days, a fenced of air shaft, the remains of buildings and an almost complete kiln which was used to drive the water from the ore before it was loaded onto the trains. Another bowel loosening bank came next Chimney Bank, luckily we were heading down, into Rosedale Abbey for our cafe break.

Sandwiches scoffed, coffee swilled, back on bikes, the only way is up, as the song says and soon our pace was reduced to a steady plod as we passed The Pensioner’s snigger point at Bell End Farm and onward ever upward to bring us the the Castleton road some five miles away. Payback time in the form of the almost straight road which drops directly to the village of Castleton gave us a chance to increase our average speed for a while before the climbing restarted, an especially vicious gradient, thankfully brief, leading to another bridleway which passes Box Hall on its way to Commondale. Varied surfaces ranging from concrete to loose rock but no difficulties. The road drag from Commondale toward Kildale came next and lacked the usual headwind so felt almost pleasant, at Percy Cross Rigg crossroads, a bit more torture was mooted and we headed uphill to sample the delights of the Lonsdale Bowl on cross bikes. Some people thought it could not be done on skinny tyres being more ‘offroad’ than anything previously ridden in this ride; rutted, rocky and muddy across moorland, through heather and rough grass before a loose slope curves down to the car park at Gribdale, a high speed blast on the mountain bikes but requiring a bit more consideration without the skill compensation provided by 140mm of suspension travel.

All downhill from here, we opted to turn left at Dikes Lane and pass Fletcher’s Farm Coffee Shop on our way back into Great Ayton, just for a bit more offroad.