A stunning start to what turned out to be an awesome month weather-wise, pretty much every ride featured a big old blue sky and we dragged ourselves away from slithering about the woods and out across some wide open moors with even the odd road ride thrown in. 233 miles and almost 7,000 metres of ascent, not bad for March.

1^st. 17 miles. Our first ride began from Scaling Dam, just for a change, due south across the moor to High Tranmire Grange, picking up the bridleway which continues to the road at Green Houses. Tarmac to Lealholmeside, more bridleway, down a field and under the railway at Underpark. A riverside track took us to Lealholm, where we passed the tearooms and cafes, 7 miles into a ride is a bit early to be tucking in, even by our standards. We continued on tarmac to Danby, where the Stonehouse Bakery was not passed, we knew we’d require the calories to fuel us for the ascent to Danby Beacon. Eventually we had to leave the tearoom and embark on the aforementioned ascent, all I can say is it gets no easier but we made it. A quick pause at the beacon to savour the view and then sublime singletrack bridleway across Lealholm and Black Dike moors returned us to the car park in time for coffee from the van.

2^nd. 27.5 miles. The following day found us at Sheepwash assembling bikes prior to introducing Jordan to the delights of Silton downhill track - which unfortunately turned out to be a little too muddy to be fun - and Kepwick Bank, which is anything but downhill. When the seemingly endless toil was over, we made our way down Arden Bank and across Dale Town Common to Gowerdale Wood in search of a track The Pensioner vaguely recalled from some years ago. We found a nice downhill on loose and slippy limestone babies heads which came out at a T junction, when The Pensioner eventually appeared, he looked about quizzically before declaring he had no idea where we were. That made four of us then. Some blundering about led us to the abandoned farmhouse at Dale Town, with its terse “Look around and get out” message still painted across the door. A short distance later we were tucking into the daily special in Hawnby tearoom, discussing our options for the return leg. The Pensioner posited an off road return rather than the tarmac alternative which seemed reasonable, some time later, stomachs full of chips, pork and apple burger and salad we were toiling up the track to Low Thwaites, Jordan under no illusion that the trees in the distance “get no closer”, having been informed by three people separately. From Low Thwaites we made our way to the Bilsdale mast, where Oz asked The Pensioner how far it would be back to the car park. The Pensioner screwed up his eyes and scanned the distant horizon, utilising his years of mountain experience, calculating the route, estimating the mileage, “About 4 miles” he said with confidence. “More like 7 or 8...” I said. Turned out we were both wrong - it was 9 miles. Although it turned out to be a very enjoyable 9 miles, speedy across the moors on sun baked tracks, we arrived back at Sheepwash as the sun was sinking.

6^th. 35 miles. Just me and The Pensioner today, out on the cross bikes for a before nights quicky which turned out to be 35 miles long. Billingham, Greatham, Hartlepool Marina, Elwick, Hurworth Burn, Wynyard Woodland Park (aka The Castle Eden Walkway), Norton and back to Billingham. More miles in one day than The Captain has managed all year.

9^th. 18.5 miles. Scaling Dam once again and pretty much the same route as last time except for a diversion past Danby Castle and along Crossley Side to gain the excellent bridleway over Ainthorpe Rigg.

14^th. 15.5 miles. Another of our new starts today, Chop Gate village hall car park and the regular core team of me, The Pensioner and Jordan made our way to the top of Clay Bank via Urra, then with a combination of pedalling and carrying bikes, we introduced Jordan to Round Hill, the highest point of the North York Moors. He was suitably unimpressed, as most people are when they gaze at the less than awe inspiring pimple in the heather. He was more impressed with The Medd Crag descent which led us eventually back to Chop Gate, the first half of our figure of eight loop over. The Raisdale road took us to Lordstones, which is still “closed for winter and refurb” although there was not much sign of any work going on other than some cabins in the car park. Stomachs grumbling, pensioner grumbling, we rode along The Fronts, then down to Beak Hills, followed by the gruesome ascent onto Cold Moor. From then on, as the saying goes, it was all downhill, for two and a half miles, even better, The Buck Inn was open when we arrived and eager to sell us food and drink. Life doesn’t get much better.

19^th. 13.5 miles. The Captain decided to grace us with his presence today, for the fourth time this year, despite this we had a good turn out, The Pensioner, Oz, Jordan and Andy The Breadman. Setting off from Gribdale we had a spin around Guisborough Woods and Captain Cooks Monument, taking in some of the singletrack and waiting for The Captain who was usually so far behind only Marty McFly and a modified De Lorean would have had a chance of spotting him.

20^th. 18.5 miles. A repeat of our Scaling Dam ride from the 9^th with Marty The Fireman. And just as enjoyable.

22^nd 56 miles. Another day on the cross bikes and a big ride in readiness for the Way Of The Roses which we’re doing in April. We assembled at Oz’s house on Fishfinger Hill - or Yarm as the residents like to call it ready for some long hours in the saddle. Our first major test came about 12 miles in with an ascent of Clay Bank, which split the pack more than a little, at least we were out of earshot of The Pensioner’s swearing. The descent was more amenable, bunching up we formed some semblance of a peloton, speeding along the B1257 until we reached the Laskill turn off. Following the road from Laskill to Hawnby, a couple of short sharp ascents shattered the illusion of ourselves as a well oiled racing team and we were more than ready for the Hawnby café daily special. Our next obstacle - Murton Bank - was viewed with trepidation as none of us had ever attempted it with road gearing. Most of us made it, although it was no easy feat. The descent to Boltby was much more exciting, steep with rather more blind bends than we’d have liked, brakes squealing we proceeded cautiously to the bottom, except for the normally prudent Oz who flew past everyone at about 40 mph, turned out he hadn’t became a downhill god, his brakes were full on but woefully inadequate for the incline. More amenable roads led us to Northallerton, where we had a coffee break before proceeding to Yarm via Appleton Wiske and Picton.

23^rd. 15.5 miles. The very next day me and The Pensioner were assembling mountain bikes in Birk Brow car park along with Marty The Fireman. We called it active recovery, others may have called it stupidity but wisely I’d chose one of our easier routes, taking us from Birk Brow through Moorsholme, crossing the moor road to Dimmingdale Farm, then Robin Hoods Butts. A bit of tarmac then the bridleway around Clitherbeck Farm and down Rosedale Intake took us practically to the door of The Stonehouse Bakery. It would have been rude not too, soon we were perusing the goodies on offer (for the fourth time this month). All that was left, a gentle spin through Danby Park, then up the road to The Quakers Causeway, so much for the easy spinning, active recovery ride.

28^th. 16 miles. Another day: another new starter. Tim joined us today, another process operator desperate to relieve the stress of industrial life with exercise. He did well for the first three miles, then we went off road where he soon found out it’s not quite as easy as pedalling about the cycle tracks. Luckily, it was the hottest day of the year so far, so no-one minded waiting. Our route took us from Chop Gate, up the Raisdale Road, along The Fronts to Clay Bank. Up the steps to Urra Moor and on to Tripsdale. The ascent from the Tripsdale valley proved too steep and loose for all of us, sunbathing at the top, waiting for Tim, we were forced to endure the sight of half naked ginger being irradiated, his tender white flesh practically blackening before our eyes. We descended back to Chop Gate through East Bank Plantation, a few fallen trees spoiling the usual flowing bridleway. Sitting in the sunshine outside the pub minutes later, drinks in hand, even Tim had to grudgingly admit he’d enjoyed himself.