The Six Ride Blog

The Six Ride Blog.

It looks as though I have been a bit lax lately, writing up the blog, so here is a bumper edition covering most of the past two weeks.

Scooting Round Scaling

Monday 8th July 2019

Rod, The Ginger One.

It is nearly two weeks since this ride happened, so I am a bit vague on the specifics, Rod had some time off work and The Ginger One managed to tear himself away from the constant battle for overtime which is the main feature of industrial life amongst those who know no better. We had a pretty standard ride from Scaling Dam car park, making our way to Lealholm via the gruesome climb, known on Strava as The Slagbag. 

From Lealholm, roads took us to Houlsyke, then across the fields to Stonebeck Gate, from where we hauled our bikes and bodies to the top of Ainthorpe Rigg. The ride down to Danby was a suitable reward for our efforts, relief was short-lived as we made the stiff climb up The Lord’s Turnpike to Clitherbeck, then across the moor and up to Danby Beacon where we had a breather, looking at the view across the heather to Scaling Dam reservoir, gleaming blue in the afternoon sunlight. 

The awesome singletrack across Roxby Moor came next and we sped through heather on a narrow ribbon of loose rock and baked earth before the track widens as we head back to the farm road which takes us back to the car park and some welcome sustenance, a concoction of bread, grease and left-over parts from some unidentified animal. Heaven.

Relive 'Scooting Round Scaling.'

Dodging Showers From Lordstones

Friday 12th July 2019
Rod, The Breadlad.

I was able to catch up with Rod again following my two day, eighty mile ride with La Mujerita (blog here), we were joined by The Breadlad, freshly released from his forty eight hours of incarceration in the crumpet factory. We set off from Lordstones and rode some trails which may not be ready to be popularised just yet but they were enjoyable, eventually ending up at Clay Bank, girding our loins for the climb up Barker’s Ridge onto Urra Moor. 

From the top, an old favourite beckoned - The Rim, a natural trail, partly following the course of an ancient earthwork along the edge of the moor, high above Bilsdale. The dry(ish) weather has taken care of most of the squelchy bits, more than can be said of our next bit of trail, the descent through East Bank Plantation, which has a minor swamp to contend with, for a few metres before reverting to sweet loam and dry roots, down through conifers and startled deer. 

A farm track continues the route down to Chop Gate from where the Raisdale Road climbs back towards Lordstones, we took the turn off to Beak Hills, solely for an off-road finish. The sun is actually doing a bit of blazing and we sat outside to savour the warmth, indulging in some pint sized rehydration.

Relive 'Morning Jul 12th'

Mooching In The Sunshine

Monday 15th July 2019
All Alone

The start of another week and for the first time in quite a while it looks like it may be a week of lonesome trails for me as everyone  - all three of them, nowadays - is indulging in that thing I have almost forgotten, work. And look what they are missing, dryness, warmth, sunshine, bikes, hills plus the pleasure of my sophisticated conversation and penetrating insights into current affairs. Remind me again, just who is the Prime Minister at this moment in time? Such trivia was far from my mind as I climbed up the hill from Gribdale onto Newton Moor, shirt soon sticking to my back as the sun took hold. 

I made my way to Guisborough Woods  picking trails, more or less randomly but being a former process operator, therefore highly skilled in the art of energy conservation, managing to keep height loss to a minimum. I rode man-made and natural trails until up hill and down dale, as they might say in some parts of Yorkshire, until hunger pulled me back to the car via Andy’s Track which drops straight down the hillside to the car park. 

It will be for the last time for riding this track until autumn as the bracken is encroaching on the trail, already head height in some places’ another week and it will be too thick to get a bike through. In a rare flash of foresight, I’d brought a little picnic to eat when I got back to the car - okay, a sandwich, some crisps and a flask of coffee but it was grand, sitting on the grass in the sunshine feeling ever so grateful to those poor suckers keeping the wheels of industry turning but more importantly, keeping my pension topped up.

Relive 'Morning Jul 15th'

Birk Brow. Call yourself a hill?

Wednesday 17th July 2019
All Alone

Owing to a crisis in the pocket change department, courtesy of the National Health Service’s “kick ‘em when they’re down” parking policy, a leaf was taken from The Breadlad’s book, this summer’s bestseller, “Parsimony Pays (For My Holidays)” and I parked on Hutton Village road. It has been mainly dry for a while and the thought of the track from the Quaker’s Causeway to Westworth Wood has been tickling my fancy for some time now. There are a few ways to approach the area, I figured the most direct would be up Birk Brow and down the causeway to the bifurcation, where the bridleways split, one continuing along the causeway, the other heading across High Moor to Westworth Wood, which is an outlier of Guisborough Forest. 

Giving myself a gentle start, I pedalled along the old railway track skirting Guisborough, emerging at Charltons and the bottom of Birk Brow, infamous in winter for jack-knifed HGV’s and in summer for the dreaded caravanners. It is not too bad a climb, really two climbs with a flattish bit in the middle and I was soon riding past the burger van, manfully resisting the siren call of double bacon cheeseburger and onions, five miles into a ride is a bit early even by my undeniably low standards. Gaining the Quakers Causeway, climbing then descending, quite happily, on the uneven stone flags, it is difficult to understand why so much hatred and revulsion is directed toward this track by my fellow riders, just turn on the suspension, get a bit of momentum going and it’s fine. I guess they must have buttocks like two jellyfish in a sack, unlike my buns of steel. The path to Westworth Woods is not paved, more like a standard moors track, rocks, mud, grass, heather, one section is usually a miserable bog slog, which is why a dry spell is a must. Today it was all rideable, along the path are some engraved standing stones which I’d never noticed before, a couple dating back to 1798. There are nice sections of singletrack leading down to the woods, despite the challenging gorse bushes. A steep climb heads up through Westworth Wood, coming out at a gate which leading into Guisborough Wood, around about where the fire occurred a few weeks ago, the blackened ground already showing traces of greenery. 

At this point, I was at the very top of Guisborough Woods, car parked at the very bottom of Guisborough Woods which could only mean one thing - Downhill Time, a bit like Hammer Time but with better music and tighter pants. Literally spoilt for choice, I made my way back to Hutton Village via a selection of trails ranging from fast, wide and rocky to thrashing through the trees, well, as much thrashing as someone rapidly closing the gap into the twilight world of the sexagenarian can manage. If I am entering God’s Waiting Room, it may as well be on a mountain bike with rocks and roots under the wheels and sheep shit on the tyres, I’ll save the beige cardigans and Hush Puppies to wear when I’m sitting on a chair with a toilet in it, sucking a Werther’s Original and moaning about the price of a TV license. 

Relive 'Morning Jul 17th'

It’s Local And It’s Leisurely

Thursday 18th July 2019
La Mujerita

Just a gentle local ride with La Mujerita. A bit of road, a bit of gravel, even a bit of singletrack here and there and home for lunch. Weather managed to stay warm and nothing of any excitement happened. Plenty of roadies about, getting the miles in ready before spending the remainder of the day slouched on the settee, watching the Tour De France on TV. 

Relive 'Morning Jul 18th'

Drizzly Danby

Friday 20th July 2019
The Youth

The Youth decided to give this mountain biking lark another go, after a few weeks of indolence - or work as he calls it. We got ourselves to Danby just in time for it to begin drizzling, an indecisive attempt at precipitation which left us undecided as to whether we needed to wear coats or not. In the end we compromised, The Youth wore his because he was whining on about having some unspecified lurgy and I stayed in shirtsleeves because I’m from Hartlepool. The Youth had requested “some singletrack and some downhill” and that is what was duly delivered; unless you are in a really happy place like Les Gets or Whistler, climbing is a necessity to access the funtimes. 

Today was no different, we panted our way up the Pannierman’s Causeway from Danby until we reached the road which leads to Danby Beacon, turning left, we headed for Robin Hood’s Butts and ultimately the Sis Cross bridleway. This is another of the ancient tracks which cross the moors, thought to be originally for trade between communities, today the Sis Cross track is a narrow track, carving downward through heather, sinuous and flowing on a good day, a rutted boggy mudfest on a bad day. We were having a good day, firm ground and dried mud meant speedy progress back to Danby, where we passed through the village, exiting in the opposite direction, climbing through Ainthorpe before leaving the road and taking the bridleway across Ainthorpe Rigg, the prevaricating precipitation still with us but too hot to wear a coat, The Youth having dispensed with his some time back. 

The downhill from the top of Ainthorpe Rigg begins down a rocky gully before opening out to a grassy track, spitting us out on the Fryupdale Road like a cat spitting fur balls. As we reached the Yorkshire Cycle Hub, so did some proper rain but we were content to watch it from behind our coffee cups. By the time we left, what passes for summer around these parts had returned and we rode back through the fields to Crag Farm in bright sunshine, it was deemed good enough for one of the fabled ‘extra loops’, we rode to Clitherbeck and reversed our start, taking revenge on the Pannierman and his causeway by plunging down it in the friendly gravity direction. 

Relive 'Morning Jul 19th'