By the power of social media, a whole three riders met up in Lordstones car park, ready, willing and eager to start the week with a classic route. The Breadlad and me are going to introduce Miles to the Cold Moor Descent. The weather seems fairly settled, not too nippy with decent amounts of sunshine to illuminate the autumn colours. A circuitous route to Cold Moor took in a couple of lesser known tracks before we were shouldering bikes for the hike up the bridleway, ten minutes vertical plodding later, the track became less steep, prompting Miles to leap on his bike and pedal away into the distance. We just kept on plodding owing to our better understanding of the conservation of energy. The Cold Moor Descent was awesome as usual, long and varied; we feel envious of Miles, having all these tracks to discover. From the finish of the bridleway, in Chop Gate, the only way is up and we set off on the long climb to the top of Raisdale Mill Lane, Stoney Wickes, Brian’s Pond and ultimately the summit of Carlton Bank. A palette of golds, browns and greens spread out beneath us, resplendent in the afternoon sunlight. All downhill from here as the saying goes and it wasn’t long before we were tucking into the golden brown of cheese scones at the cafe.
It's Drying Up Nicely Out There.
Back to my usual lonely existence today, but as Rudyard Kipling said, Down to Gehenna, or up to the Throne, He travels the fastest who travels alone. A bit less time making cakes and a bit more time watching Terra Trailblazers’ videos and he’d have realised he was talking bollocks. Just a quick scrounge about Guisborough Woods from Great Ayton, finishing with a loop around the flanks of the mighty Roseberry Topping and down the bridleway through Newton Wood. Which was a new bridleway to me, The Breadlad gave me the heads up about it recently and it turns out to be fairly exciting, steep and rooty in parts with a drop over the edge to catch out the unwary. There was even a squirrel posing on the top track, who stayed still long enough for me to get a picture.
For the second time this week, or third if you count lunch on Saturday, I was at Lordstones, this time bereft of companions, like a lonely orphan scouring the barren wastes in search of companionship, as they turn their backs on the splendour of nature in pursuit of filthy lucre and the glory of Mammon. Or perhaps they just had to go to work. Which I don’t, or never did according to some of my colleagues, so here I was on another splendid autumn day, panting up to the summit of Carlton Bank (again). A bit busy on top today, so I didn’t hang about, making my way instead to Brian’s Pond and following the bridleway to Scugdale, venue for many hours of my wasted youth, okay, adulthood; while proper men were walking round B&Q with their tape measures and paint charts or climbing the career ladder, I was idling my life away climbing rocks in the sunshine with a bunch of like minded ne'er-do-wells. The place looked magnificent today, the dying bracken glowing gold in the November light, buttresses of weathered rock standing like sentinels, looking down on the valley below, smoke from burning heather gently drifting across the far distance. A photo opportunity too good to waste. Half an hour later, I was back on the chain gang, heading up Barker’s Ridge to gain the sandy track to Cock Howe, ready to point my bike down the Head House bridleway. A minor classic of the North York Moors, singletrack the whole way, mainly tyre width, a few rocks, a drop off or two, ending with a steep finish to the inevitable stream. A clamber up the other side and the track continues on tussocky grass to end at Head House, an isolated former farm house, now seemingly used as a shooting house and for storage of bird feed. Wide, sandy tracks lead across the moor back to Barker’s Ridge and a bit of payback from the gravity bank almost all the way back to Lordstones.
The autumnal splendour has become autumnal drabness today, the sky has clouded over and slight dampness, not even heavy enough to be drizzle, moistens the air but the golden embers of dying leaves still give the illusion of sunshine. Me and Simon T. meet at Hamsterley at some ungodly hour, the clock hasn’t even struck ten by the time we're pedaling away from the car park. The Pensioner will be spinning in his coffee tin, which is where the remainder of his ashes, not scattered about the moors and dales, reside. I’ve been involved in a few ashes scattering ceremonies over the years, as most free-range people want to be cast to the winds in the places where they had most enjoyment and pubs take a dim view of a desiccated Uncle Bert being spread around the bar, so outdoors it has to be. What is always surprising is the sheer volume of ashes. Is it the coffin as well? Although I have a sneaking suspicion the coffins will be resold to unsuspecting punters. Anyway I have digressed again, we were out so early Ken Bruce will be telling me off for missing Popmaster, the birds have only just piped down from the dawn chorus and the moon is probably out if we could see for the clouds.
We were embarking on the clockwise hot lap, a variation tweaked and nuanced over the years to give the most pleasure for the least effort and we miss out the whole of Cough Up A Lung Lane which is a bonus. Here it is for the uninitiated, start from the main car park, Gruffalo Trail to Skills Loop start, nice warm up around the Skills Loop, climb back to the start - this way you can do the see-saw twice. From the Skills Loop start, follow the fire road uphill, it cuts through the forest diagonally, and arrive at Windybank Road, turn right and follow tarmac to the start of Section 13. Then it is Section 13, Boneshaker (or not), Special K, Brainfreeze. Follow the Grove Link back towards the visitor centre and pick up the trail which climbs to Pikes Teeth, after Pikes Teeth head down Rocky Road to cross the river, turn right and follow the trail parallel to the river to a fire road. Climb up the fire road and keep climbing up to Route 666 (if you can be bothered). The next trail is Oddsox, followed by the two trails after it, the names of which escape me. Back in the bottom of the valley, turn left and begin the long climb to Polties Last Blast, which becomes K Line, a last climb up from K Line leaves only the holy trinity of Transmission, Accelerator and Nitrous to do - what a way to finish a ride. Return to the Grove and follow either the Forest Drive or the Grove Link back to the main car park. Around 15 miles, a couple of thousand feet of climbing and a distinct lack of pointless fire road wandering which characterises the official red route.
Clicking on the route names will take you to the Strava page for the route. Where you can marvel at how slow we are.
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