Some of the snow is beginning to disappear now, leaving plenty of mud for us to contend with. It can’t have been too bad because we managed eight rides - albeit short rides - this month.

1^st. Just me and Oz having a scrounge about Gizzy Woods and Captain Cooks Monument. The odd patches of snow proved mainly unrideable but the muddy ground was quite firmly frozen which meant we had a reasonable day.

5^th. A similar route to the last one but one which will be forever remembered as the day we rode up to Captain Cooks Monument twice. Weather conditions are improving a little but things are a bit muddy and every turn of the pedals feels like trying to ride through treacle while dragging a trailer full of scrap of metal. Or perhaps I’m just feeling weak.

8^th. First Billy No Mates ride of the year, set off from Square Corner hauled myself up the Mad Mile, paying careful attention to the patches of snow on the tricky rock sections, planning the eventual descent which would leave me grinning back at the car park. The small patches of snow became bigger patches of snow which ultimately became a snow drift which inevitably required the bike on shoulder technique to gain The Drove Road. Where I met more snow, a kind of slippy ball-bearing textured snow which was impossible to ride in, then suddenly the track would be clear for a few metres before the snow reappeared. White Gates really was white, with most of the gate still buried. At the Kepwick Bank/Arden Bank junction I spoke with some other bikers who had rode from Sneck Yate and had exactly the same conditions. Heading for lower ground seemed the sensible option, so I began descending Arden Bank, leaving the snow behind, glad to be picking up a bit of speed for a change. Speed I was to regret very shortly as a shady section near the bottom harboured a nasty surprise - a sheet of thick ice the whole width of the track. I didn’t even have time to brake before I was off the bike and utilising various body parts as runners to luge my way down the track. The rest of the ride was quite tame in comparison but still too muddy to be fun.

10^th. Half way through March and the Captain decides to put down the wife’s shopping bag and join us for a ride. Inevitably a slow and gentle ride as befit’s a person whose idea of regular exercise is once every ten weeks, with a great deal of pushing and an ever greater amount of waiting about. On the positive side, we did discover a new café in Great Ayton which didn’t seem to mind three mud-covered louts dripping nasty brown liquid on their floor.

12^th. Hamsterley for a change, almost home turf for Simon who treated the ride like a an SAS induction, barking orders, storming up hills and pushing himself in a most uncharacteristic manner. New found enthusiasm or substance abuse? The consensus from the rest of the party veered toward the latter although Simon kept muttering something about not breathing Teesside air. This was my third ride in five days and I became today’s Captain Slow (the real Captain being elsewhere - two rides in a week? Impossible), It was muddy, very muddy, even the descents had to be pedalled to keep up some momentum. Our route took in most of the Black Route with some excursions out into the moor, even the superb new bit, section 13, was disappointingly gloopy at the top. Still fun though and a change from North Yorkshire. As for Darlo boy, we’ll see how he performs when his drugs wear off, although I’m sure the pride in his achievement of being ahead of three men who are all twenty years older than him will take longer to dissipate.

16^th. Another scrounge about Kildale and Guisborough. The Captain put in his second appearance this month/year/decade and we had a GOOD ride, not too much mud, no rain, no snow, the tracks were dry and the café was open.

22^nd. Yet again we find ourselves at Kildale, assembling bikes in the station car park and keeping an eye on the scudding clouds which promise the odd shower. Today we have a new rider, young Simon, as he must be known to differentiate him from slightly older Simon, the Darlo wonder boy. We left the car park and had a pleasant road warm up which took us to Bank Foot Farm, I’d promised a one hill ride and the more astute riders realised which hill it would be, the dreaded Ingleby Incline. Me and the Darlo Boy had previously made it to the gate, a precedent had been set and we were determined to surpass our high point, in the event, I couldn’t even reach the high point and Darlo Boy made it to the gate but no further. Irregular cyclist but all round fitness fanatic young Simon not only made the gate but did it with alacrity reducing us “older gentlemen” to mere spectators. To make us feel better he joined us in pushing the top section and before very long we were at Bloworth Crossing, joining the Cleveland Way back to Kildale, descending pretty much all the way on a variety of surfaces. Another good day out, despite a small shower, and our fastest ride this year.

24^th. Normal service has been resumed. Me and Darlo Boy met at a gloomy Clay Bank car park, surrounded by mist shrouded hills, destination Tripsdale. Bad planning meant the first half of the ride, the uphill half was also against the wind, the sandy tracks were damp and clingy, the rocky sections wet and greasy. In short it was all hard work, soon forgotten as we raced down the track and round the hairpins into Tripsdale. The climb out from Tripsdale was aided by a tail wind, we did the Medd Crag descent, which was fun as usual and finished on tarmac back to Clay Bank as the sun came out.