Ride 002.

Date:    4^th September 2003         Distance:          15.5 miles

The previous ride, or rather Simon’s tales of derring do, created a stir of interest in the usually sedentary world of chemical plant operation, a few people offered to join us “whenever”. Whenever came on the 4^th September and we had another recruit to our rag-tag band but more importantly I had a shiny new Giant NRS2.  

Simon and Austin met me and Blind Bob at the Square Corner car park, Simon riding my old East Peak with a view to it usurping his rigid Raleigh. Our group was not without a little rigidity because Austin had a bike so old it featured Biopace chain rings – a fad from several years ago, eccentric chain rings which claimed to exert more power on the pedals’ downstroke.  

Another pleasant late summer day, we set off along the Hawnby Road only to stop after a hundred yards or so while Simon returned to his car to jettison the large bag of food he’d brought. We took a left-hand track on Osmotherley Moor toward Swainby shooting house – allegedly legal to ride now the sign has disappeared and pedalled steadily on the sandy track, Simon testing the East Peak’s suspension on the rocky sections. We stopped at the shooting house for the mandatory look inside – one day we’ll find something interesting. Continuing we went down to Limekiln Bank in Clain Woods where things got steep and rocky. Simon’s confidence growing as his ride soaked up the bumps, he hurtled downhill at a speed which would be viewed as inconsiderate in a built up area. Does the boy know no fear? A tell tale puff of dust from his rear wheel shows he’s found out what the brake levers are for as we go into a shady bend, the track greasy from lack of sunlight. Simon’s sliding leftwards into a gully at the edge of the track, I’m wondering if the mobile can get a signal for when I need to phone the ambulance, he pulls himself out of it with a little help from Panaracer rubber. I’m too busy watching Simon to realise I’m sliding too, the gully isn’t deep but the ditch running parallel with it is, a few heart in mouth moments before the evil gully lets me go and I join Simon at the bottom of the track. 

We wait for the (more cautious) other two and wait and wait. A quick sprint back up the track reveals a somewhat bedraggled Blind Bob who hadn’t been quite so lucky in the gully/ditch stakes and nursing a bloody knee to show it – at least it served to draw attention away from his dodgy black and white striped shorts. 

Scugdale on tarmac, hot, sweaty and steep. One day the dog at Raikes Farm will be off the chain and we’ll be too knackered from the preceding hill to escape, laid panting on the road,  while it rips us to shreds. A big push up the B.O.A.T. to Stoney Wickes, we remount and ride up to Barkers Ridge, a glorious, sandy doubletrack snaking through purple heather, gradually dropping to join Arnesgill Ridge. More down to Hill End farm, then gravel and tarmac before rejoining the road at Low Cote Farm. Another brief gravity assisted rush down the road takes us to the bridleway at the bottom of Low Locker Moor, rock strewn singletrack which tests our limited handling skills. And Bob’s limited vision. Oz’s murky past in motorbike trial riding becomes apparent on this section as he effortlessly hoisted his front wheel onto rocks and down drop-offs. A couple of stream crossings and we reach Dale Head Farm, seemingly occupied once again. The original farm track leads gently back to the road, Simon’s legs settled into the familiar granny ring for the duration of the ride. 

Too soon we were back at the cars, raiding Simon’s bait bag to prevent him consuming too many calories. He declared the East Peak a big improvement on his old bike before bundling it in his car and speeding off, uttering vague promises of money changing hands at some unspecified time in the future.

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