There's No Such Thing As The Great Indoors.

Mountain Bike Ride.

The Ginger One

3rd February route

On what must be the best day of the year so far, blue sky, light wind, dryness all around, only The Ginger One was able to drag himself away from whatever pleasures detain all the part-time, fair-weather bikers and swing a leg over a cross bar for another few hours out in the fresh air. All these other shift workers must have a strong belief in reincarnation - they’ll probably come back as ramblers or worse, green-laners.

A well used route from Danby, nothing too arduous, apart from the initial ascent of Ainthorpe Rigg, it was dry enough today for a dab-free conquest, (well, for one of us anyway), the usual steep muddy section was just passable. Descending the Crossley Side, fun as always, slabby rocks at the the top relent to singletrack which turns into a broad, grassy finish on the road to Fryupdale. Emerging unscathed from the descent,we paused to admire a proud upstanding cock - and some geese - at the farm before a few miles of scenic tarmac took us speedily to Houlsyke, where we began climbing again. Initially on the minor minor road which runs parallel to the road in the bottom of the valley before we returned to offroad with an attempt at ascending Oakley Side, the steep and rocky downhill we often utilise to finish rides. It is an equally steep and rocky uphill, the muddy vehicle tracks were of no benefit, in fact it was not too long before we were reduced to pedestrianism for a while such was the lack of traction. A pleasant stroll later, we were back on the road heading for the Clitherbeck’s bridleway, which we crossed against the wind. After Storm Henry which gifted us with its presence over the past two days, this barely merited the title wind.

From Clitherbecks we followed the road to Robin Hood’s Butts, the moors track which becomes more like a Venetian canal with every rainstorm, although I can not imagine Venetian waterways ever having a fringe of ice. The Sis Cross track was our next objective, significantly drier than last time we ventured along, in parts the singletrack as good as a track anywhere in the world, carving sinuously through the heather, occasionally terminating in a boggy hags, which were negotiated with varying degrees of success, before reverting to singletrack, The challenge for 2016 is a no-dabs traverse of this track.

The continuation appears to pass through someone’s garden, marked by posts, before a damp field leads to a stream crossing which is still too deep to blast through and power up the other side. Rounding the corner at the top, we startled a pair of deer which took themselves off onto the moor and watched us watching them. Another brief, uphill turned to a grassy downhill which led us to the Danby Park bridleway, where the geographically-challenged Ginger One suddenly realised where he was and more importantly, the proximity of the Stonehouse Bakery.

January 2016 Round Up and Video.

January Round Up and Video.

Click here for video.

January 25th 2016 route

January 27th 2016 route.

January 28th 2016 route.

A country wracked by extreme weather events, conveniently user-friendly names by the met office, Desmond, Gertrude, giving the increasingly alarmist press a neat headline for the latest “Killer Storms” which would wreak havoc over the whole country, all non-essential personnel locked down like Himalayan climbers waiting for a weather window as the wind threatens to rip their tent to shreds. Those of us who are able to recognise the difference between speculation and journalism went out anyway and it was fine, the odd fallen tree, a smattering of snow and some canny gusts of wind, despite the best efforts of the media over two hundred, mainly, off-road miles were despatched without hypothermia, snow-blindness or polar bear attack.

Some rides went unblogged (too busy riding) including a couple of ventures on the new SOW track, which shows promise even in its wet and slippy winter guise although it undoubtedly needs riders with superior skill levels to our middle-aged bumblings to fulfil fully the potential of the tracks. Another day saw an ascent of Arden Bank, that heinous, lung-busting, leg-burning, purgatory of pedal-driven persecution which ascends almost a 1,000 vertical feet from Hawnby to regain the Hambledon Drove road. Which was a good day’s climbing considering it began with an ascent of The Mad Mile. Still, the daily special at Hawnby Tearoom was well worth the pain.

Pictures

#nomoreturbotrainers

Hamsters, edited highlights, winter version.

Mountain Bike Ride

The Trainee

21st January 2016 route.

In complete contrast to the debacle that was yesterday’s ride, today we managed a more or less continuous pedal. Some local knowledge from a knowledgeable local informed us there was significantly less snow at Hamsterley than the North York Moors: he was not wrong. Paradoxically, the tracks were mainly covered in what can only be described as grippy ice, a kind of semi-thawed slush which had a remarkable amount of friction.

Our latest edited highlights of Hamsters route is as follows - winter version, missing out the off-piste stuff,

1. Pikes Teeth, up the hill from the car park, a harsh start, then a long drag to get you warmed up for the rest of the day.
2. Oddsox, from the bottom of Pikes Teeth, fire road to Rocky Road, down to the river, cross bridge, take the right hand track parallelling the river, at the end turn left up another fire road. Ride past Route 666 because that is what it deserves, follow the fire road to Oddsox.
3. Transmission, on the opposite side of the valley, plod up to the transmitter and begin, so good we sometimes do it twice.
4. Accelerator, turn right from the end of Transmission and into the entrance, this track appears flat, no rocks, no drop offs just speed. So good we always do it twice.
5. Nitrous, directly after Accelerator and completely different, steep, rocky and varied. Don’t be a dick and ride over the last berm to get a faster Strava time. If your cycling is more about conceit than enjoyment there is a Strava segment for the trio known as Triple Tranny.
6. Section 13, across the valley, up the hill, yes, that hill, pause  (or maybe not) at the wooden hut and continue to the top, watching out for paying customers in full face helmets emerging at speed from the woods. Gird your loins and tackle the next bit of gravity defying before plunging back down, carving berms and getting some easy air on the jumps.
7. Boneshaker, turn right along the fire road from Section 13, Boneshaker is on the left. More old school than the previous tracks, which is a polite way of saying less well-surfaced. There is a new finish to this route which leaves a lot to be desired; most riders continue to use the old finish.
8. Special K, after an uphill tarmac surprise, Special K appears, main features a steep bomb hole and a wooden wall ride, the wall ride is generally wet.
9. Brainfreeze, along a fire road from Special K and into Brainfreeze, another old school track, culminates with a platform jump often avoided by craven old blokes.
10. The Skills Loop, do the see-saw, zig zag to the start and point yourself downward, taking in a few ‘technical trail features’ although a few less than there used to be since some of the wooden sections were removed.

And that’s it. Say hello to The Gruffallo and make your way back to the car park. All the best bits - 11 miles and a fair bit of climbing. The cafe will doubtless be closed so get yourselves to The 68 Cafe outside Toft Hill, just be aware in winter last orders for food is 2:30pm and it closes at 3pm.

The Long March

Mountain Bike Ride.

The Ginger One.

20th January 2016 route.

As a defence, “it seemed like a good idea at the time.” probably could be bettered and even the most mediocre legal eagle could rip it to shreds; a geographically-challenged snooker player from Darlington did not even question the wisdom of today’s execrable route choice. Constrained as we were by snow on the high moors, it probably lacked a bit of sense to start from Clay Bank car park, only 677 feet below the highest point on the North York Moors, we decided to stay low and see what transpired. A lot of trudging through snow, mud and water with heavy bikes and wet feet is what transpired but more of that later.

Our initial descent to Greenhow Plantation on the road featured a few patches of ice and snow, entering the woods, we followed snow-covered fire roads, up and down to eventually reach Bank Foot Farm, giving way to a few large vehicles which are currently employed in harvesting the trees. After Bank Foot the usual format is to slog on up Turkey Nab onto Battersby Moor, the aforementioned conditions made this option somewhat unattractive. The low level track from Bank Foot to Coleson Banks used to be reasonable except for a brief messy section, an entirely logical thought progression reasoned quite often tracks are repaired and strengthened prior to tree-felling to facilitate access and egress for the wagons and heavy machinery. This particular track had not been visited by us for quite a while ergo there is every chance it is now a gorgeous thoroughfare which would lead us speedily and picturesquely to Coleson Banks. Of course there was every chance to converse was also true. The converse was also true with knobs on. A brief section of exemplary fire-road lead us unwittingly into a Somme winter, the track is beyond destroyed, metre deep trenches running with water stretch into the distance, bordered by ridges of soft clay topped with snow. Unrideable and barely walkable, the going was slow and sticky, sinking ankle-deep with every step, at points we were able to get off the track and stagger through the remains of the plantation but were forced to rejoin the track by fallen trees and thick brush. Ice rimed puddles alliteratively punctuated our passage as we plodded painfully upward.

Finally a metal barrier came into view, our torture had come to an end, we stumbled onto the Coleson Banks track like two Gulag escapees. The Coleson Banks track, once a popular way to and from Baysdale is also wrecked, the track surface now about three metres below the surrounding moorland funnelling water downward, reducing the terrain to bare rocks and earth. Probably unrideable to ascend - now there’s a challenge. It was not a challenge to two dilettante process operators, we showed it who was boss by turning tail and heading downhill to Battersby, where a large red sign informs the us the ‘road’ we have just descended is closed. Can’t think why.

Some road riding took us back to Bank Foot where we reversed our route through the snowy woods before the final drag up to the carpark which never gets any easier.

What Kind Of Fools Would Be Out On A Day Like Today?

Mountain Bike Ride

The Fireman.

14th January 2016 route

Some precipitation may have been forecast, in addition to the fifty mph wind and perhaps some snow on high ground and possibly down to lower levels but it takes more than a meteorologist’s prophesy to put off a Terra Trailblazer. Well, actually it takes much less than that but two of us made it to Great Ayton, through slush, snow and flood water. Seeing as we are here, we might as well have a ride. Decision made, hard core waterproof clothing donned, double Buffed, we set off into the snow, a covering of wet slush on the roads, legs instantly soaked. After a mile or so in the direction of Little Ayton, the snow being blasted at our left sides by the wind, we were reluctant to make a left turn into that wind which would give us access to the moors via Aireyholme Farm. We  pressed on to Kildale, the snow got heavier and the puddles got deeper, luckily vehicles were few and far between, the odd car or van ploughing through, sending up fountains of spray, like the log flume at Flamingoland.

At New Row we rode up past the cottages, battling directly into the wind, and began the off road bridleway, failing to even reach the gate, unable to gain any traction in the unconsolidated snow. After the gate, things were a little easier owing to the tree cover and we both had valiant attempts at a dab-free ascent but it was not to be. Conditions were somewhat different on the open moorland after the top gate, a prodigious wind howled in straight from the frigid bowels of viking Helheim, snow came in horizontal lines, the track’s potholes and rocks concealed by a smooth layer of white. Again, a brief effort at riding ensued before we admitted defeat and continued like Robert Swan on one of his polar walks, the wind doing it’s best to push us back down the track. At the top, an executive decision was made to ride straight back down Percy Cross Rigg and become roadies for the rest of the ride. The wind at our side again, following a vehicle track though the snow was fraught, the disadvantage of 29” wheels became apparent, in side winds they are like sails, if I was blown off the track once I was blown off a dozen times,  slithering uncontrollably into the heather-filled drifts as my 26er companion sped off into the distance.

Not wanting to wait about in the cold, we continued down the road toward Kildale, puddles and slush deeper than the outward journey, feet wet and freezing despite waterproof socks and shoes, the water coming in over the tops of the shoes and being contained by the very design which was supposed to keep it out. The smell of coffee was in our nostrils know, heads down, we pedalled on, still being buffeted by snow and wind, until we reached the sanctuary of Fletcher’s Farm Coffee Shop, where we were definitely the wettest, and possibly the stupidest, customers. We had not seen another cyclist all day, is this really the country that produced Ernest Shackleton, Captain Scott, the aforementioned Robert Swan and Pingu?  We were a bit cold, fairly damp and feeling very smug. Where was everyone else, spending the day watching Jeremy Kyle - The Retard Whisperer and prettifying their lady parts?

Drizzle

Mountain Bike Ride

The Ginger One

12th January route

While these clouds and this somber drizzling weather shut all in, we two draw nearer and know one another.

Henry David Thoreau

Just as well we do know each other because there were only the two of us on this freezing Tuesday morning, a mere duo of Terra Trailblazers hardcore massif, everyone else at work or cabined up waiting for better weather. Even yours truly has been a bit lax this month, twelve days in and only on the third ride. Today’s forecast was rain at 1pm, today’s plan was for a brief ride and back in the cafe for 1pm. Obviously North Yorkshire’s cloud and wind are no respecters of the BBC and they failed to stick to the plan.

A cold start, wet underfoot with some low cloud grazing the higher moor tops, we were pushed up the old Carlton Bank Gliding Club track by a tail wind, which, to be honest, only made things marginally easier. The wisdom of beginning a route with a 200 foot climb, when the Xmas excess is still bulging through the Lycra like someone trying to smuggle jelly, has got to be questionable but like The Unsuitables at Guisborough, it is a relatively speedy way of gaining height. Soon the bridleway parts company with the wide track and heads across the moor on some pleasant singletrack, before rejoining a wider track and heading down past Brian’s Pond on Carlton Moor, puddles becoming deeper and more voluminous as we rode further south.  Before long we were climbing again, up Barker’s Ridge, then heading towards another of The Pensioner’s, snigger, snigger landmarks - Cock Howe, actually one of North Yorkshires circa Bronze Age barrows.

The bridleway from Cock Howe to Head House was in surprisingly good condition considering we have had approximately twenty times more rain than this time last January, wet of course but not too arduous. From Head House the clouds came down to meet us, enveloping us in their wet cotton wool embrace as we turned into the wind, cold drizzle being forced down into any gaps. Returning to Cock Howe, we moved away from the wind and down the track, boggy at first but resolving to some reasonable riding in narrow ruts with the odd few rocks thrown in. The steep section down to Chop Gate proved to be somewhat slippier than usual; The Ginger One, who appears to have sold his soul to Beelzebub, rode it like Danny Hart, my attempt owed more to Miranda Hart, skidding out several times on the wet grass, few little lie downs before the bottom was gained.

From Chop Gate the original plan to head up past Beak Hills was shelved by mutual agreement in favour of a straightforward slog up The Raisdale Road back to Lordstones for dry clothes and a welcoming cafe. Entering the car park at the same time the rain was due to begin was ironic, seeing as we had been rained on for the past hour or so.