The Youth
18th August route.
Just to show The Youth there is Lakeland riding beyond Whinlatter, a trip to Glenderaterra Beck was mooted. And what a perfect day it is for it, cloudless blue sky, dry trails, it's hard to believe places were being evacuated because of flooding four days ago. With the old rail track still out of action, we took the C2C diversion by Castlerigg Stone Circle, an extra climb but worth it for a look at the circle and it's scenic backdrop of Blencathra. The multitude of photographers evidently think so too, standing behind tripods, waiting for the moment when there are no tourists in shot, or bright red bikes leaning against the ancient stones.
Leaving the Joe Cornish wannabes behind, although I'm sure Joe Cornish would never be shooting landscapes in the midday sun, we rode through Threlkeld and began the ascent to the Blencathra Centre, one of those ascents which seem to blanked from memory until the moment you're anally breathing up the tarmac. We took a breather where the road turns to gravel and drank in the view across Derwentwater and down Borrowdale. Unable to prevaricate any longer, we set off along the wide track contouring Blease Fell, still climbing but more gently. Eventually things levelled out until we crossed a stream from where the track drops to the valley floor via a few more water-splashes.
The next section, literally, loomed above us and it wasn't long before bikes were shouldered as we plodded upward, my dodgy MCL ensuring cautious progress, even though the last few days of walking and cycling seem to be improving things in the pain and flexibility department. Our ascent was interrupted by the arrival of some aircraft which excited The Youth to the point of gibbering, apparently they were not just any aircraft but top secret S.A.S. stealth fighting transformers which can fold into a helicopter or a gigantic metal lizard which can stand on its hind legs or something; they can’t be much of a secret if The Youth knows about them. Although... His long hair and straggly beard do give him something of a Taliban demeanour. Just saying, like.
We reached the singletrack which clings to the side of Lonscale Fell, a grey thread cutting through the green fellside, luring us onward in an awesome situation, the bulk of Skiddaw to our right, Glenderaterra Beck to our left, five hundred feet below us. The Youth was in awe, it makes trail centres look more than a little tame. We reached the “tricky” section, where discretion became the better part of valour and a dab or two may have been employed to avoid a ride in the big yellow helicopter. A few metres further on, the technicality disappears replaced by a typical Lakeland rocky path, heading in that friendly gravity direction we love so much. Too soon we arrived at the road behind Latrigg, a dead end universally known as The Cheat’s Car Park by those who don’t want to cut out a few hundred metres of ascent when walking up Skiddaw.
For us there was more pleasure to come in the form of the track from Latrigg back into Keswick, which is, as Status Quo used to sing, down, down, and we cruised the whole track, savouring every lump and bump, twist and turn, roots and rocks in the autumn sunshine. Feeling fit, an extra loop was mooted and we passed through Keswick and on to Portinscale, ready for my second attempt in a week on the Catbells Bridleway, it’s all about the scenery, this one, being wide and gravelled with negligible danger of sudden death,unless you are especially maladroit; it’s a place to ponder a while, take photos and generally enjoy being let loose in the outdoors, while The Youth does youthful things like endo’s and wheelies in the golden glow of the afternoon sun. Another aircraft passed overhead, some kind of micro-light affair which looked like a bathtub suspended beneath a propeller, Last Of The Summer Wine meets Those Magnificent Men In Their Flying Machines, I think I’ll stick to the bike. The final section of the bridleway, down to the road has a little more interest and we enjoyed a last blast of rocks and roots before we took ourselves back to the fleshpots of Keswick, riding along what has to be one of the most scenic roads in England.
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