4^th. These ten day breaks just keep coming and we just keep pouring money into the MTB tourism business. Me, Simon and Oz met at the Llama Karma Kafé on the outskirts of Penrith for breakfast, we had originally planned to be meeting at Heysham for the ferry to The Isle Of Man but the robbing three-legged bandits wanted the thick end of £350 in ferry fares for the privilege of going somewhere wetter than the Lakes. I suppose all the extra shoes for their extra legs must cost a bit but the Terra Trailblazers weren’t going to be paying for them. So a return to Whinlatter was mooted to introduce Oz to the pleasures of the Altura trails: he was suitably impressed. As last month the higher parts were under a layer of snow, which was thawing rapidly but really sticky and draggy on the tyres, making the ascents seem much harder. Simon was nursing injured ribs from playing football with some rough boys, this was not helped by skidding on a slippy root and giving himself a whole new world of pain, as he landed on the injury. This was to be the first of many Terra Trailblazers misfortunes over the next three days. Oz wiped out later in the day on a snow-covered wooden bridge descending the South Loop, just after he’d been raving about the quality of the trails, luckily a trailside tree stump broke only his fall and no bones. We retired to the bike shop for coffee and retail therapy to finish the afternoon off.

5^th. Another fine Linnet Hill Hotel breakfast was devoured in anticipation of a hard day’s riding, Howard joined us and we set off through Keswick to do a truncated version of The Borrowdale Bash, missing out the Watendlath ascent and descent. We made it as far as Falcon Crags on the road before realising Simon had became the new Chris - so far behind he was merely a memory. His freshly replaced brake pads were binding badly, a quick bit a attention with the Allen keys and we were a peleton once more. Honister Pass proved a pass too far for three quarters of us and reduced us to the ignominy of pushing on tarmac. As we reached the start of the bridleway which would lead us back down the valley it began snowing in a very determined big mountain fashion, matchbox sized flakes being blown in on the breeze, luckily from behind us. Undaunted we set off along the bridleway, the uneven, rock-strewn surface contrasting with the groomed man-made trails we rode yesterday, our progress hindered by natural obstacles, our unnatural incompetence and the amount of times this trail features in Keswick Mountain Rescue Team call outs. We made it to the Castle Crag downhill with only one casualty -Simon who’s bike balked at being forced through a narrow gap between two rocks; however, the next section which is paved with suitcase sized boulders gave us all grief in some way. Oz had a few falls, yours truly hung on for grim death and rode like an amateur cowboy on some bucking bronco, only with less style and grace, Howard managed to flat his brand new tubeless rear tyre and wheel combination. A more sedate pedal through Hollows Farm campsite brought us to Grange and a welcoming café, where we refuelled prior to the last leg into Keswick, along the pleasant bridleway cutting across the flank of Catbells, followed by tarmac to Portinscale and back into town for the mandatory scrounge about in Keswick Mountain Bikes. Oz departed back to Teesside to have his numerous wounds tended by the missus while we did the decent thing and poured more money into the local economy via the local hostelries.

6^th Back to Whinlatter again (I’m glad I bought that parking pass) to introduce Howard to the delights of the man-made etc. etc. It was a glorious day, some snow still remaining, the North Loop was not without incident, Howard had an over the bars entering the woods at one point, which calmed him down a bit, then as we approached the best bit of the North Loop, the long descent back to the visitor centre, Simon narrowly avoided an anal reaming when his seat post snapped, leaving a jagged edge in a place where jagged edges pose a significant health hazard. Luckily he had the presence of mind to stay stood up and avoid a wrecked rectum, volunteers to stem the bleeding would have been conspicuously absent.

10^th. Back to North Yorkshire and Chris managed to tear himself away from his domestic duties to join me and Howard for a go at mountain biking. Just a nice easy route from Lordstones, along the front to Cold Moor, the pleasant descent to Chop Gate and then up the dreaded mast access road which gets no easier. Eight hundred feet of ascent in a mile and a half, all on tarmac but still gruelling enough to necessitate the odd breather - only for Chris’s benefit of course. Everything else seemed easy after that, we made our way to Arnesgill Ridge, then a speedy descent of Barker’s Ridge - a little too speedy for Howard who lost it on a muddy patch and was sitting on the floor seeing stars when I came round the bend. A last pull over Carlton Bank and we were packing our bikes away as a squadron of paragliders swirled round the sky above our heads.

17^th. One week since our last outing we found ourselves in the slightly less familiar territory of Hamsterley Forest, checking out what they’ve been lashing the cash on now. We began by doing a variation of the Doctors Gate route from the Hamsterley Trailblazers website, pity we hadn’t figured out the first five miles is uphill, then the track leading back into the forest across Doctor’s Gate has been decimated by the wobbly-headed retards who drive 4x4’s across soft, wet moorland for fun. Once back in the forest things improved somewhat and we managed to pick up the odd section of the Black and Red routes which led us back past the closed visitor centre and closed café to the open bike shop Wood N Wheels where a kind lady made us coffee as we browsed. Refreshed we set off to do the Black Route, the steep start is still unchanged, as is the first rooty downhill, in fact the majority of the Black Route to the North of the beck seems pretty much as it always has been except for an unmarked deviation a kind local shared with us. The long climb from the Grove brings us out at the Descend Hamsterley huts where armour-clad Darth Vaders casually fling themselves down the downhill course on bouncy bikes. We opted for a more sedate fire road continuation of the Black Route which takes in a few nice singletrack sections before depositing us on the valley floor. A small diversion to the Skills Loop to hone our (barely existent) skills finished the day off nicely.

19^th. The weather is improving, so, in an attempt to do likewise with our fitness, we’re now trying to get out twice a week, except for Chris of course, who joined us today for his once a month ride. In respect of Chris’s exercise-constrained lifestyle, we chose a pleasantly easy pootle about – in fact the same route as the last ride of February. Square Corner to Swainby Shooting House, Clain Woods, Scarth Nick, Scarth Wood Moor, down to Osmotherley for the café and back along Route 65 via Cod Beck reservoir. Simon and I found plenty of time to practice our Ray Mears survival skills during the “waiting for Chris” breaks, at one point we utilised a few fallen trees to build a three bedroom log cabin complete with double garage and granny flat, all with the due planning permission and a public enquiry lasting three months. Back at Square Corner, at the end of the ride and feeling somewhat under-exercised, two of us opted for the pant to the top of the Mad Mile and ride down again option. Chris declined to join us, citing the close proximity of Cannondale Push and BMW as a valid reason for the cessation of further exertion. Unfortunately for Simon his downhill plummet, reward for the brutal climb up the Mad Mile, was brought to a sudden halt by pinch-flatting on a drainage hump halfway down.

25^th. Back to Hamsterley again, to do a carefully thought out combination of the Black Route and route 15 from the Beyond Hamsterley book, a plan which for once, actually worked perfectly. We set off up the harsh start of the Black and followed its rooty magnificence all the way to The Grove. Switching from following waymarks to map-reading, we made our way to the edge of the forest via sections of the Red Route and assorted fire-roads and out onto the open moor. A rather fragile, peaty bridleway turns to a more solid bridleway, resurfaced with skin-shredding, loose gravel which took the fun out its swooping downhills and twisty turns. A short road section took us through the village of Egglestone and a left turn brought us to a tarmac toil, the end of which necessitated a lie down for Simon, which probably goes to illustrate the imprudence of his sports nutrition regime – namely scoffing a not inconsiderable proportion of the stock of West Auckland’s pie shop during the first half of the ride and steadfastly refusing to share any with his companions. Our route continued alongside a plantation up Nemour Hill, following a bridleway across more open moorland, to the road at Wooly Hill, this turned out to be a couple of miles of fine singletrack, just technical enough to be interesting, then a gravity-assisted cruise on farm tracks to the road. More tarmac brought us back to Hamsterley at the top of the downhill courses, where we had a play on the 4X track, then followed the southern section of the Black Route back to the car park, not forgetting our usual spin around the Skills Loop, where we aim to improve our barely existent skills. It won’t be long till we’re hucking and tabletopping tailwhips just like the young people.

27^th. Some of us are keeping up the two rides a week ethos, well me and Simon anyway, despite the 50 mph plus wind, we turned out while others skulked in shopping malls, dutifully walking three paces behind their respective spouses, arms laden with carrier bags, praying for sudden death. The weather has reverted to the more usual North Yorkshire standard, barely above freezing point, although mercifully dry. We left Kildale and made our way up New Row with the accompaniment of face-lacerating hailstones, then into the headwind up Percy Cross Rigg, a brief respite through little bit of Guisborough Woods was followed by more battling across Newton Moor. We descended Little Roseberry and continued descending through Aireyholme Farm and along to Dikes Lane. On farm tracks to Little Ayton where we gained a tail wind all the way to Ingleby Greenhow and the now mandatory stop at the butchers. At Bank Foot farm we girded our loins for the ascent of Turkey Nab, or Ingleby Bank as the sign board calls it, with the tail wind it went somewhat easier than usual, although we were still defeated by the technical/loose/slabby/rock sections. Picking up the Cleveland Way track at the top, we followed this in a very pleasing fashion to the Baysdale Abbey road, this is normally a fast tarmac downhill back to Kildale, the wind however had other ideas today, hitting us head on at one section, requiring us to pedal down a 1 in 3 gradient.