2nd. Things are definitely looking up on the weather front, four* of us rode along the fronts from Lordstones, the track dry and approaching dusty. (*actually three and one pushing, even on the downhills). Even the rooty bit down to the B1257 is easy when the roots aren’t slippier than a greased pig loose in a KY Jelly factory. Unfortunately our route did include ascending the steps up Carr Ridge and onto Urra Moor, which reduced us all to Captain Slow’s level for a steady push/carry in the sunshine. For the third time this year we turned right at the gate and followed the agreeable singletrack which runs along the eastern edge of Urra Moor, the latter quarter of this track used to be a swampy nightmare but some new drainage has dried it up a nicely, making the track a pleasant alternative to the stony highways which criss-cross the moor. Soon we were at Medd Crag, contemplating the descent to Chop Gate, again surprisingly mud free, might even get to remove my mud guard this year, best hang on though, don’t want to be too optimistic. At Chop Gate we tried, unsuccessfully, to persuade Chris to buy a cottage which was for sale and turn it into a cyclists only café. A bit of tarmac slogging up the Raisdale Road, then we turned right at Stone Intake and followed the track past Beak Hills and back to the Fronts which we rode at a cracking pace owing to it being devoid of pedastrians, reaching Lordstones we discovered why it had been a rambler-free zone - they were all sat at the café drinking beer and comparing ski poles. Stashing our bikes away we began to realise one of our number was missing, even by Captain Slow’s normal standards, he was a little tardy joining us for the most important bit of the ride - the café. Eventually he wandered in, somewhat bloodied around the nose department - it seems (reading between the lines of his account) he’d been trying to impress some teenage girls with his riding prowess and managed to steer himself off the edge of the track and down the hillside.

7^th. First Billy No-Mates ride of the year, it just goes to illustrate the lack of overtime this year when Simon and/or Oz have turned out for nearly every ride. Of course, they are now like a pair of poor penniless waifs, having to scrape by on the basic wage, plus shift allowance and bonus. Times are so hard one of them has been saving up for 4 months now for a new hydration bladder and he still hasn’t managed to scrape together the £8.81 Tesco’s is demanding. Anyway it seems they both had other things to do today - probably camped out outside the gates of our factory begging and pleading with passing managers for a few hours overtime just to keep the wolf from the door - so I found myself alone. Decided to make my way from Clay Bank into Greenhow Plantation and follow the forest track which runs beneath Botton Head, mainly to see if it had improved any since last time we rode it as an escape route from the moor top snow. It was only marginally better. The snow had gone but the sheltered, north-facing aspect of the track meant it hadn’t dried out to any great extent and a few muddy dismounts were required until the descent to the forest fire road which was okay. Some kind of masochistic tendency pointed my front wheel at The Incline, aiming, rather optimistically as it turned out, for a dab-free ascent, in fact some pushing could also have been involved but as there were no witnesses it can’t have happened. Things improved after the top of The Incline and a quick zip along the moorland tracks soon had me picking up speed on the descent into Tripsdale, in fact rather more speed than I would have liked owing to some contamination on the rear disc or pads which rendered the brake ineffective and squealing like a fat lass in a chocolate factory. Fun over, a steady plod up and out of the valley and ever upward back to Round Hill ready for a final speedy descent down to Jackson’s Bank, then a technical descent back into Greenhow Plantation, followed by a fire road blast back to the car park.

9^th Shed-dragger Thursday, the new official name for the day before Good Friday when the beige nomads emerge from their winter hibernation, don the Hush Puppies and sensible cardigans, psyched up to amble along the B road network of Britain at 28 mph with only one goal in mind - to watch Coronation Street in a field. We met at a surprisingly deserted but windy Square Corner, just me, Oz and Simon, Chris for some reason favouring Barcelona over Osmotherley. A bit of forward planning actually went into this route, to take advantage of the strong wind. We began with a pedal through Silton Forest which ought to have been pleasant but large parts of the bridleway we were riding had been turned to quagmire by some inconsiderate equestrians, the sun-baked sections dropping down to Over Silton were akin to riding Lake District rock gardens. Not that much sun baking was occurring today, a gloomy and drizzly section on tarmac took us to Kepwick, a short bridleway through a gorse bush jungle deposited us at Cowesby, then slightly more road South to Brickshed Cottage before a muddy and slippy push up onto the moor eventually brought us to Boltby Forest and a steady fire road ascent to the section of Hambleton Drove road which runs through the top of the forest. The weather began to pick up slightly as we began the long descent via Noddle End and Murton Bank which would eventually see us enjoying the hospitality and bargain price food of the Hawnby Tea Room. We definitely needed the sustenance because our return route involved the infamous Arden Bank, a gruesome steep ascent of about 300m, almost dab-free our lack of perpendicular prowess blamed on the surfeit of chips, pork burgers, beans and toast. Once back on the Drove Road, the plan came together and we were pushed all the way back to the Mad Mile by the strong southerly. The Mad Mile, as ever was superb and all too soon we were back at the cars contemplating our imminent return to work.

17^th Owing to my romantic (I.e. bikeless) break with the Mrs. It was left to Oz, Simon and Chris to find their way unaided around the North York Moors, a not inconsiderable feat, bearing in mind the only landmarks imprinted in their respective memories after five years of riding the moors are the cafes. The uphill, downhill, rocky, muddy, grassy bits inbetween have barely registered, so strong is the lure of coffee and cake. Playing it safe they opted for the same route we opened this month with while it was still fresh in their minds. As far as I’ve been told it passed without incident although somewhat slowly - in excess of 4 hours to do 12 miles but no bloody noses this time.

21^st. Howard rejoined us today, fresh from the milking the Nigerian oilfields and raring to go, even to the extent of attempting a ride up the steps of Carr Ridge. Needless to say he soon joined me in shouldering his bike and strolling upward. We turned right after the gate and (yet again) rode the bridleway along the edge of Urra Moor. Since the drainage was improved it’s a nice track. At it’s termination, Medd Crag, we headed east to Round Hill before making our way to Tripsdale, which was the usual fun descent and less fun ascent. Later, as we descended the short track to East Bank Plantation, I cunningly attempted to avoid a hoof-churned section of track by a slight detour which turned out to be a stinking bog, swallowing the front wheel and pitching me over the handlebars, soaking me and knocking chunks out of both shins - just another typical Terra Trailblazers day. A pleasant blast through East Bank plantation and soon we were plodding up the Raisdale Road, then more plodding to Beak Hills prior to a lovely run along The Fronts to Lordstones for essential nutrition. As we tucked into our repast, a motor-cycling Terra Trailblazer was spotted trying to sneak into the café, no doubt ashamed of having taken the exertion-free route to Lordstones. All that was left for us real cyclists was a ride back along The Fronts to Clay Bank.

24^th. For the second time this month some Terra Trailblazers were forced to venture out without me to hold their hands and point them in the right direction. Although the route they chose was a pretty straight-forward out and back, with only one turn, they still managed to incur the wrath of the redsocks by missing the one turn, failing to see the No Bikes sign and ending up on a footpath. It’s amazing they manage to get to work every day.

29^th.Me and Howard again, finding some great singletrack in and around Guisborough Woods. We set off from Kildale to avoid the deforestation devastation on the Pinchinthorpe side, a quick blast across Codhill Heights to Highcliffe brought us to a few choice trails through the trees, the locations a bit vague but they are there if you look closely enough. Later we made our way via Newton Moor to Little Roseberry and through the bluebells to Great Ayton, a little road work and we were at Dikes Lane, ready to haul our bikes up the rooty downhill which leads to The Red Run. Crossing the flank of Easby Moor on the bridleway - now nicely dried following the 2008 mud-fest, we were soon in Mill Bank Wood, blasting downhill with the smell of coffee spurring us on. Back at we Glebe Cottage we gained much needed sustenance from one of Colin’s immense sandwiches before pedalling the remaining 200 yards back to our cars.