The Coat Stayed In The Bag

The beginning of what turned out to be a lonely but dry week, most of the Terra Trailblazers can’t turn out often enough to be classed as dilettantes nowadays. Not exactly blistering hot but dry and sunny I’ll take all day, any day. Parked up in Swainby and made my way to the summit of Carlton Bank via Whorlton and Faceby Woods. No paragliders up there today but a few Coast To Coast walkers trudging along with packs the size of sheds, looking like they are trying to smuggle jockeys across the county borders.. From the trig point, broad sandy tracks took me across the moor towards the new Bilsdale transmitter mast, the people of Teesside will be back to normal with their Freeview service. The previous mast caught fire about 18 months ago, wiping out the signal to Teesside and causing a surge in demand for books, musical instruments and condoms - no, not really, it was cable TV. The thought of a television-less life just too much to contemplate. The situation wasn’t helped by 3 idiots on bikes who turned up the following day to check out the damage, riding unchallenged through the security cordon to stand watching buildings still smouldering much to the dismay of those assessing the disaster. Anyway, it all ended quite amicably and we were free to go without police intervention once they realised we weren’t spies from Sky or Virgin. I continued down to the abandoned Head House before climbing back over the hill to Barker’s Ridge and a superb descent down into Scugdale, parts of the trail hadn’t got the dry up it is summer message and I didn’t manage to finish the ride unsullied by ordure. My tailgate picnic beckoned, so it was straight down the road back to Swainby.

More Dry Bits Than Wet Bits

Things are looking up...

Yesterday’s lack of moisture emboldened me for a trip over the high moors, Clay Bank start, Carr Ridge, Urra Moor, Round Hill, all remarkably pleasant: wide tracks, big sky, superb. A couple of walking groups out and about, with the sort of numbers which would get them a dispersal order in some Middlesbrough housing estates. The Pensioner would have loved this route, wide open, nothing to impair his vision, no trees to suddenly jump out in front of him. I rode to the top of Ingleby Incline, carrying on to Burton Howe and down the Old Coal Road ending at the lonely valley of Armouth (or Armoth) Wath, hanging a left to cross Ingleby Moor, joining a nice bit of singletrack down to Turkey Nab, or Ingleby Bank as the Ordnance Survey insist on calling it. Ingleby Bank is gravel, stones and bedrock, always fun to ride down (not up - that’s the very opposite of fun) but someone has made a parallel singletrack through bracken which is an excellent alternative. A bit of exploring on some old trails above Bank Foot Farm concluded the fun part of the ride before the fire road drag around the horseshoe took me back up to Clay Bank.

Better Than Working For A Living.

Ladies and gentlemen (drum roll) for the third day in a row we have blue sky, light wind and no forecast precipitation, another couple of notches on the thermostat and things could be almost temperate. Even parts of Guisborough Woods were dry, not all the trails though, some of those were still under the control of slip and slop. I rode up from Great Ayton and had the usual scrounge about the forest, in search of dry trails to ride, before taking Percy Cross Rigg to the Lonsdale Bowl. The decent weather has brought out a few moorland wanderers and even the occasional fellow mountain biker, taking advantage of the comparatively arid conditions. I descended to Gribdale, via Andy’s Track, getting the last few runs before bracken claims it for the summer. From the car park at Gribdale, I began the ascent towards Captain Cook’s Monument, turning off near the top to check which trails have survived the recent felling; the Gribdale Gobbler is as nice as ever, Pipeline is still weaving around the obstacles, a few others look okay from the starts. I climbed higher, eventually reaching the monument, a cool breeze discouraging lingering but not strong enough for a couple of paragliders struggling to get lift off the edge of Easby Moor. A steep and rocky track to me down the front of the moor, connecting with a bridleway, traversing north west toward Great Ayton. This is a limited use trail, too muddy in winter, too much bracken in the height of summer but today, like baby bear’s porridge - just right. The root-filled gully at the end of the trail even went dab-free today, no wet wood to sabotage my line choices. And then it was back to Great Ayton to eat food in the sunshine, on a bench by the river, trusty steed at my side, wallowing in the smugness of three dry rides in three days.