2^nd. Even by the astonishingly low standards of the Terra Trailblazers it was a pitiful start. Firstly a bloke who hasn’t slung a leg over a crossbar (or probably anything else for that matter) for the past two months turns up with a puncture which he’d evidently failed to notice during his pre-ride bike inspection, cycling being such a dim memory to him, he’d also forgotten that spare tubes, a puncture repair outfit or tyre levers are generally a good idea. While he’s dicking about, rider number 2, the thinly-haired thirty year old, takes advantage of the electric compressor and gives his tyres some extra air - just sufficient air to plunge the thorn resident in his tyre through the tube, flattening it instantly, removing the wheel prior to getting busy with the tyre levers pulls out the brake pad too, which has delaminated, cue a frantic search for spare pads and the necessary tool kit to effect a change of pads in the cheap and nasty brakes he insists on running. Forty minutes after arriving in the car park, we’re ready to ride, when Oz suddenly notices his rear shock is saggier than the tits of a fat forty year old, shock pump out and we’re finally on our way. Then they come out with: “We have to be back home by three o’clock coz there’s a football match on telly…” What? Considering that’s less than four hours away, some serious route modification is required. We went up New Row, Codhill Heights, top end of Gizzy Woods, Percy Cross Rigg, Gribdale and returned through the woods on Coate Moor. Barely in to double figure mileage on a glorious summer day because of something as trivial and ephemeral as a televised football match: it’s very hard to comprehend.

9^th A Billy No-Mates ride today, set off from Square Corner and made my way into Silton Woods where I decided to ride down a track I vaguely recalled riding in the opposite direction some years ago. This proved my memory is not what it was because the track became more overgrown the more I ventured along it, inevitably the bike was shouldered as I forced my way through shoulder-height bracken and ankle-snatching undergrowth until my way was barred by a roughly built shelter, the kind of thing TV survival experts might knock up before they retire to their five star hotel for the evening. Now at this moment in time the major news story all over the country featured a “crazed gunman” who had, about forty miles from where I standing, shot three people, one of them a police officer, and was currently suspected to be living off the land somewhere in the North East of England. And so here I am, looking at a lean-to of logs and branches at the end of a rarely used track, in the middle of a deserted wood, also somewhere in the North East of England; a suddenly eerily quiet deserted wood. Retracing my steps in a fairly brisk fashion, listening for the inevitable click of a gun being cocked, I was back in the saddle and out of the woods ASAP. Calmed my overactive imagination with a gruelling ascent of Kepwick Bank, made even more gruelling by the blazing sun. Went straight ahead at the gate and down Arden Bank before cutting across Dale Town Common and down the bridleway to Noddle End. Soon I was on the road at the top of Murton Bank, heading back to Sneck Yate and a steady plod along the Drove Road with only the Mad Mile to look forward to.

30^th. The Captain out twice in the same month? What’s going on here? Has he entered a new 13 rides a year training regime? Inevitably a ride of some brevity would be called for, not to mention negative ascent and smooth, un-technical riding. Bollocks to that, he got one out of three. We left Clay Bank and were soon hauling the bikes up the Carr Ridge steps to Urra Moor, a new seat has been placed at the gate, next to the infamous horse riders and cyclists advised to dismount sign. The seat had a thorough testing as we waited for The Captain to plod into sight. Rode our new favourite track, The Rim, which is still in excellent condition and followed that delight with a descent of Medd Crag which is another gem to be savoured. The road from Chop Gate to Lordstones is not nearly as enjoyable but at least it has the incentive of a café at the end. Suitably refuelled with coffee and cake, we powered along The Fronts back to Clay Bank, well two of us did anyway.