Ride 027.

Date:     10th August 2004          Distance: 16.75 miles

24 hours of torrential rain the preceding day is not enough to put us off. The forecast was for the rain to clear in the first part of the morning leaving a “cloudy but dry day with occasional showers”. Weatherman speak with fork tongue. As I write this we have currently clocked up 45 hours of rain and no sign of a let up. Sailing may be a better option; if animals start being rustled two by two somebody knows something we don’t. After several pre-start phone calls along the lines of “Are we still going in this? Really?” we found ourselves in a deserted Lordstones car park dragging bikes from cars and donning waterproofs, gamely ignoring the precipitation.  Another former Terra employee joined us today, finding a window in the hectic schedule of a retired process operator isn’t easy and Tony soon wished he’d stayed in with the paint brushes after he suffered a spectacular ground/shoulder interface within the first mile.  

The track from Lordstones along the front of the three hills, Cringle Moor, Cold Moor and Hasty Bank was only slightly muddier than usual and made even more enjoyable by a complete lack of frowning ramblers. Regrouping at the side of the Helmesley T.T., our options were considered; basically a decision between a short wet ride and a long wet ride. Having the remainder of the day to waste, long and wet came in unanimously. Splodging up the Carr Ridge steps to Urra Moor, the wind (from which we’d been previously sheltered) hit us full force, driving the rain into our faces but lively banter and ripe profanity kept us in high spirits. Pedalling into a headwind up the deceiving incline to Round Hill wasn’t easy, particularly for Chris who reached the top to find his back brake had been stuck on all the way up. The disturbing thing is he still managed to beat Simon, who’s 27 years his junior. 

The escape option of the bridleway to Medd Crag was eschewed and we pedalled into the storm passing the highest point of the North York Moors on our way to Tripsdale. A few wet miles later, brake discs and pads were being extensively (and expensively) abraded on the steep descent into Tripsdale, the mixture of sandstone rubble and wet soil forming an effective natural grinding paste. Two thirds of our party elected to stroll sheepishly down the steepest sections, unlike the remainder who plunged through the rain, fighting slewing bikes, brake levers pulled hard against the bars to minimal effect. Luckily, after the beck, the track goes sharply uphill again so speed is lost rapidly.  

The ascent from Tripsdale back onto Nab End Moor was too soft to ride in parts but soon we were at the edge of the moor, overlooking a damp and deserted Chop Gate. The descent through East Bank Plantation was made more interesting by some deep mud sections, one of which claimed me, sucking me into knee-deep mire while Oz (who’d been waiting nearby pretending to fettle his bike) roared with laughter. Through some new bridleway gates, a steep farm track led us to Seave Green, where the ford was reaching torrent status; if Burt Reynolds had sailed past in a canoe, chased by a horde of inbred retards squealing like piggies, we wouldn’t have been surprised.  

Overgrown children that we are, some people rode through the ford more times than strictly necessary; Tony even deciding it would be a good place to clean some of the mud from his clothes. The rain continued unabated but we only had the long drag back up the Raisdale Road to go and we couldn’t really get any wetter. 

Back at Lordstones we changed into dry(ish) clothes and hit the café for some well earned caffeine. Four hours to do almost 17 miles, slow even by our pitiful standards, but we’d taken on the British summer and won. How fast will we be if the trails ever dry out?

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