A Bit Breezy On't Tops

A Bit Breezy On’t Tops

Monday 3rd June 2019

The Breadlad.

The start of another month, it’ll probably be no surprise if I say sunny but cold for the weather, the three month heatwave which was predicted is taking it’s time getting boiled up - maybe it’ll begin in October and last until Christmas. I found myself in an unusually busy Scaling Dam car park listening to Popmaster on Radio 2 as I waited for The Breadlad to show up. He arrived only marginally late, which is on the verge of early for him and it wasn’t long before we had ridden to through High Tranmire farm and found ourselves tackling The Slagbag again, exactly one week since we puffed and panted our way up it. Today was no different. At the top a brisk headwind sought to push us back the way we’d came but we pressed on, through Greenhouses and along the road to Stonegate, passing “Smelly Farm”, we are well aware that all farms have an odour but this one is consistently fills the air for half a mile either side with a smell of ordure so strong birds fall out of the sky, only the underground public toilets which used to be in Billingham town centre could compete. I think the farmer must be feeding his animals on a diet of cabbage and curried beans washed down with Vaux Double Maxim. Old school drinkers will know what I’m talking about. 

We stayed on tarmac to Bank Lane before heading down to the River Esk, passing West Banks, an overgrown double-track leads down to what was once a ford but it would require a fairly aquatic vehicle to get through it now. We opted for the stepping stones, hopping from stone to stone on our back wheels like Danny Macaskill on the verge of middle age - no we didn’t, anyone who has seen us ride will know the only time we ever get the bike onto one wheel is just before we go over the handlebars. We remounted and a had a bit of up and down riding, recrossing the river, using a bridge this time and heading into Lealholm, where we considered our options, which boiled down to, ‘stay low into the wind, wind behind on the high ground’. Which worked out okay and it wasn’t long before we were at Danby Beacon, a grand 360 degree viewpoint, taking in the moors south east and west of us and to our north, the North Sea. 

Half a mile of rough track and we turned off onto the Roxby Moor singletrack for a wind-assisted blast through the heather, definitely one of the best tracks in North Yorkshire when it is in good condition, as it is today. The track runs down to a junction of sorts, in the middle of the moor, where it opens out into the more familiar wide, sandy tracks which criss-cross the moors, we took one of these, heading back toward the High Tranmire Farm road, keeping a careful eye out for grouse chicks running about in the ruts, there are lots of them about this year. Minutes later the we were on a picnic bench replenishing our bodies courtesy of the butty van, with the quality and quantity of calories which would make a nutritionist shudder. 

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 Guisborough Woods Shorty

Tuesday 4th June 2019
The Breadlad, Uncle Ian.

The next day I was the tardy one, mainly owing to the sort of drivers for whom fourth gear is merely a concept and are happy to pootle along blithely unconcerned about the thirty cars behind them. We were having a early start today as both my companions, The Breadlad and Uncle Ian, were under time constraints, so it was a quick blast around Guisborough Woods and back to the cars. Our last ride with The Breadlad for a while, his international playboy way of living is taking him off to Canada, where he hopes to emulate Brandon Semenuk on his home turf. Or maybe not. Our ride was brief to say the least, but we still managed over 1,000 feet of climbing in six and a half miles and manage quite a few of Guisborough Woods’ finest trails, so it was an action packed couple of hours with barely any padding. 

My old Santa Cruz has been resurrected from retirement and I rode it today while the Stumpy receives a bit of TLC at the LBS, going back to 26” wheels after several years of 29” then 27.5” wheels is definitely odd, the steering is much faster, a slight nudge of the bars to get around a tree has you smashing into the tree, rolling large drops can leave you teetering on the front wheel in one of those slow motion “am I going over the bars or not?” moments. Best not to get too carried away. After a wending our way through the woods in a most enjoyable fashion, we headed back to the cars - parked at Hutton Village, of course, bringing us three quid closer to The Breadlad’s millionaire lifestyle - where we packed bikes away and pondered how best to squander the afternoon.

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Having A Go At Being Summer

Thursday 6th June 2019
La Mujerita

And somehow we find ourselves at Guisborough Woods again, this time lashing out three quid merely for the privilege of parking closer to the cafe, seeing as the council have exempted themselves of all responsibility for building or maintaining trails. Me and La Mujerita had a predominantly fire-road based ride, winding our way up through the forest on the kind of tracks she enjoys. The Santa Cruz got a day off today in favour of the my old 29’er Stumpy, which, to be honest, is probably in a worse state than the Stumpy which is being repaired but it’ll do for a second bike. In contrast to the 26” wheels from Tuesday, the 29” hoops feel huge, like piloting a stately galleon round the woods, the big wheels soaking up the bumps, which is just as well because the forks don’t seem to be doing much of a job of it. 

We squeezed in one bit of singletrack, the bridleway through the burnt out area at the east end of the forest. Bracken is already forcing its way back through the ashes and charred branches as nature begins to regain control. In a change from the normal programme, today’s weather managed to be sunny and warm, well, warmish, not exactly at the SPF30 stage yet but pleasant shirtsleeve riding. 

Back on wide tracks, we made our way to the concrete road on the Cleveland Way, for a bit of welcome downhill and then followed the old rail track back to Hutton Village, where we threw in an extra loop because it was too early to head back to the cafe. We climbed back up through the forest toward Roseberry Common, turning off on what used to be the original finish to the old Red Route, through green fields of wheat and barley to Bousefield Farm before a rapid descent back into the woods,  half a mile later, we were sat outside the cafe, letting the sun dry our sweat-soaked clothes before the drive home. Correction, my sweat-soaked clothes, I forgot ladies don’t sweat, they only perspire gently. 

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That Was A Quick Summer

Friday 7th June 2019
The Youth.

The following day was also spent in Guisborough Woods, that’ll be three times in one week, that’s a novelty. Yesterday’s pleasant early summer weather decided to take the day off (or maybe the month looking at the forecast) and although it is sunny the wind is like the icy breath from a demon in Norse mythology. Shirtsleeves don’t seem so wise today. We started from Kildale, completely forgetting the cafe is closed on Thursdays and Fridays, so it looks like today’s fuel will be courtesy of midget gems and the triglycerides so magically converted by my thoughtful body, from an excess of cheese toasties and pork pies and stuffed into a handy roll around my waist. And I save on belts, so it’s win win really. Our route took us up The Yellowbrick Road, ridden the whole way today, just to prove I’m not always the fat lad at the back. The climbing continued up Percy Cross Rigg and we got a bit of respite, freewheeling down the other side to the Unsuitables gate, where we met the inevitable e-biker, raving about the benefits of a battery and motor. 

We continued on to ride a few of the weaving through the trees trails which hide in the woods, the 29” wheels struggling a bit with the tight turns, sticking forks and mediocre brakes not helping either but what is that saying about bad workmen blaming their tools? And I wasn’t having as many problems as The Youth whose rear rim was exuding bright green tyre sealant like a Chernobyl bukake party, The Youth had to put air in at the top and bottom of each trail before he admitted defeat and put a tube in. If he rode a bit more cautiously, maybe taking a leaf from the books of us marginally more mature gentlemen, he wouldn’t keep knocking chunks out of his rims. 

Riding up the fire road toward Highcliffe Nab, four mountain bikers came the other way, evidently so far in the zone not one of them could acknowledge our friendly greetings, we probably weren’t wearing or maybe, riding, the correct labels to be worthy of their attention. First time I’ve ever seen people like that in Guisborough, usually everyone is up for a bit of chat and some trail info swapping. We rattled down a few more trails while the wind strengthened and chilled us some more but we were on the return leg now, leaving the woods behind and riding down the wide bridleway along Codhill Heights to Sleddale before reversing the Yellowbrick Road. Continuing down to New Row and back to Kildale, passing the closed cafe, condemned to eat Midget Gems in the station car park, next to the mysterious puddle which never dries up, the puddle close to the toilet block, the puddle which may not be rainwater. 

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May 2019 Round Up and Video

May 2019 Round Up and Video

Video click here

Seeing as some of us spent the first week of May in Southern Spain, (details here) riding dry, dusty trails in the sunshine, the remaining three weeks were going to have to come up with something spectacular to top it. Realising it had been totally outclassed, the weather put in half-hearted effort, dazzling us with sunshine but like a dad with the thermostat, keeping the heat down because it didn't want to spoil us. Still, nothing was too bad it kept us from the bikes, even the few wet days weren’t enough to dampen our enthusiasm, or the trails, which are in perfect condition. (Mainly). 

Very Quiet For A Bank Holiday

Monday 27th May 2019

The Breadlad, Rod, Jeff.

Riding on a bank holiday, there's a novelty. In anticipation of all our usual parking spots being inundated with day people driven giddy by the excitement of three whole days off, we parked in a large lay by on the outskirts of Castleton. We needn't have worried, the temperature has dropped ten degrees since Friday and it's the quietest Bank Holiday we've had for a while. We stood shivering for a while, three of us waiting for the time-challenged but airmiles-rich Breadlad to turn up. Why is it always the case that the one who lives closest turns up last. 

As the day progressed towards winter, he eventually turned up and we warmed ourselves by riding up the road to the Shaun The Sheep bus stop and continuing with a wind assisted trundle along Robin Hood's Butts. The usual large puddles where present to skirt around but it was a bit drier than usual. At the Sis Cross bridleway we turned right and followed the splendid singletrack down to the road above Danby. There was one patch of mud on the whole track, which I managed to find and splatter all over my legs, so I could look like a proper mountain biker. A bit of road/track/road took us from Clitherbeck to Danby Beacon where we stopped for a breather and a shiver in the fresh wind before moving on to the Roxby Moor track, a variety of trails, cutting through the heather, which head across the moor on narrow, rutted doubletracks, gradually downward, as speedy as you dare. At Hardale Beck, the “ford” has expanded to become a deep pool in the middle of the stream and no-one rode through it, all preferring to save our energy for the ascent of on the other side, The Slagbag, a steep slope of grass and gravel which saw a quartet of dab-free ascents today. Another mix of tarmac and off-road riding brought us to Lealholm where, in contrast  to last time we were here on a Bank Holiday, we were able to sit and eat our pies on an otherwise deserted village green. Last time it was rammed. 

Filled with unhealthy but delicious baked goodness we pottered along the road towards Danby, turning off to cross Duck Bridge and climbing to Danby Castle. After a quick breather, we followed the road toward Fryupdale, turning off on the grassy track up Ainthorpe Rigg, legs feeling the pace a bit now as we clocked on towards the twenty mile mark. Our successes on The Slagbag were not replicated and everyone ended up as a pedestrian. The ride down the other side was worth the effort, a speedy blast down the rocky track, not as technical as it used to be before the track was renovated but much faster. 

All that remained was to pass through Danby, to reach the gentle path through the woods of Danby Park and a brief tarmac climb back to the waiting cars. Twenty three and a bit miles, a grand way to spend a bank holiday and infinitely preferable to the refuse tip/garden centre option which seems so popular amongst the day working fraternity.

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 A Wet Finish

Tuesday 28th May 2019
La Mujerita

Another day of mixed weather, it was drizzling gently when we arrived in Kildale Station car park, although it managed to be slightly warmer than yesterday. It is time for La Mujerita to sample the dubious delight of the Ingleby Incline, a relic of the ironstone mining days and a brutal but efficient way to gain height. We rode easily from Kildale to Bank Foot Farm and followed the railway to the base of The Incline; it stretched up ahead of us, disappearing into the sky, the top section appearing so vertical you have to wonder how the gravel stays on.  

We both made a brave attempt at riding the monster but were both off before the halfway gate, naturally the sun chose to put in an appearance at this point, as we slogged uphill, still wearing jackets. Eventually the top was gained and we took a break, trying to make out the old buildings which stood at the top of The Incline, only blocks and the odd roof beam remain now, although I can remember buildings standing in the late sixties or early seventies when we used to go walking with my dad. 

We carried on to Bloworth Crossing, which was an actual crossing less than one hundred years ago, with a crossing keeper who lived in an adjacent cottage and opened and closed the gates as required. Only puddles and a sign board remain today and we doubled back on ourselves on the Cleveland Way, the wide sandy track damp and sticky today and clouds were closing in like dirty grey marshmallows engulfing the landscape. We thought we might escape the majority of the deluge as we headed downhill from the gate at Tidy Brown Hill but it wasn’t to be, by the time the refuge of Glebe Cottage was reached we were like the proverbial drowned rats, but nothing a bowl of homemade soup couldn’t put right.  

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A Nice Little Loop From Scaling Dam

Wednesday 29th May 2019
Alone

The following day I found myself unexpectedly alone, so decided to have a run to Scaling Dam and check out the status of the car park, the water board have installed gates and a clock telling patrons what time they must vacate the car park, although even the most tardy of us probably manage to be back by nine pm. What kind of nocturnal shenanigans initiated this policy do not bear thinking about but it is good to see the food van has been reinstated too. After the all important check to see what time bacon sandwiches stop being served, I was pedalling along our old Scaling Dam route, heading for High Tranmire Farm and, for the second time in a week, The Slagbag, a much more leisurely approach today, stopping for selfie-filming along the way. After the climb and subsequent pootle across the moor, a brief section of tarmac took me onto the wide highway, climbing up Lealholm Moor to Danby Beacon, against the wind which was doing it’s best to spoil what could have been a pleasant day weatherwise. 

From Danby Beacon, there is a 4x4 track which leads down to the road at Oakley Walls, beloved of our “One Life: Live It” wobbly-headed brethren, owing to it now looking like something from The Somme during the first world war, vehicles have been banned. But not bikes, riding down was not an enjoyable experience, balancing above deep ruts, filled with mud and water, things improve lower down where it becomes more stony and the surface is better able to withstand chunky tyres and horsepower. On the one hand, the drivers ought to know better than to be ploughing across soft peat, especially when it is wet, on the other hand, it is a very small corner of a large moor, out of the way and only an eyesore to anyone actually on the track. 

Moving on, I put in an extra loop, riding the bridleway to Clitherbeck Farm, then using the road to pick up the Pannierman’s Causeway and riding it back to Clitherbeck Farm on a partially paved trod, originally built to provide a dry route for packhorses to cross the moor in medieval times. And now a nice little track to pedal across on a mountain bike. I made my way up to Danby Beacon again and hit the Roxby Moor singletrack for the second time this week; aided by the brisk wind, I was pushed along the track, rattling through the heather on a six inch wide track filled with loose rocks and wheel catching ruts. The track widens as it climbs gently to the farm road, I stopped a while as some grouse chicks scattered across the track, hiding in clumps of grass as I stalked them with my camera. 

Back in the car park, the van was still doing a roaring trade, a lot of the old regulars seemed to have returned, in motor-homes and on motorbike, pensioners like myself, idling away the hours with tea and cigarettes, chatting at the picnic tables, full leather outfits ample protection against the wind. It would have been rude not to partake, within minutes I had a gigantic bun full of hot bacon in one hand and a coffee in the other and all is well with the world. 

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Pedalling Through The Precipitation

Friday 31st May 2019
Sean

To the finish the month off, young Sean ventured out for his second go at mountain biking and his first ride on his new bike, an oldie but a goodie, a Specialised Epic which will be just the job for him. The long uphill, from Great Ayton to Roseberry Common, via Fletcher’s Farm and Aireyholme Farm was a tester for him - although he was not aware of this - if he could make it to the top without stopping, we were having a more brutal ride than if he’d capitulated. He pedalled the whole way, unknowingly giving himself a whole load more pain for the rest of the ride - but a better selection of downhills. The first downhill, from Roseberry Common to enter Guisborough Woods, was almost his last, when the bottom appeared more quickly than he imagined and he carved a whole new track through the bracken, disappearing off the side of the track, swallowed by a hollow. For some reason he was reluctant to repeat his endeavour for the camera. 

Continuing into Guisborough Woods, Sean was acquainted with some of the gentler trails before we embarked on the long drag to the top of The Unsuitables and over Percy Cross Rigg, pausing at the old wartime building for midget gems and an explore. The Lonsdale Bowl came next, along with the rain, which half-heartedly tried to wet us but the end was in sight and we weren’t bothered. Fingerbender Bank was successfully negotiated without bending any parts of our respective anatomies and soon we were at Gribdale with only a couple of miles of downhill tarmac between us and the cafe. And that was another month of riding over -  for me, 280 miles in 19 days of riding, it’s not easy this retirement lark but I struggle through.

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