8^th. A grim and grey start to the month, three of us left Pichinthorpe to introduce Andrew to some of North Yorkshire’s finest singletrack. We showed him lots of mud, puddles, wet roots and slippy rocks, all of which he coped with admirably, despite the fact he and the blind sweary one had been for a mammoth hike in The Lakes the day previous. Bob, aka the blind sweary one, brought up the rear , grumbling to himself and anyone within earshot, about the weather, the condition of the terrain, his aching legs and the general existence of gravity. Our actual route is unimportant, covering barely any new ground but we arrived back in the car park wet, muddy but ultimately happy.

18^th. Me and the two senior citizens arrived at Lordstones to find the gates locked and a sign informing us the place was closed until December 11^th. Unwilling to commit to a café-less ride, some hasty route replanning was required. Minutes later we found ourselves on a section of singletrack we’d not noticed before, which turned out to be a real treat, obviously well used, judging by the tyre tracks. Hard to believe we missed it previously. This led us into Faceby Plantation, which was pleasant despite a few muddy patches and the fact we were in uncharted territory. Things began to go awry when we reached a gate I thought I recognised from a previous ride, thinking this would lead to some boring and muddy fields we doubled back on a lower track I reckoned would lead to Faceby Lane. This proved to be a miscalculation. The nicely gravelled track soon turned to muddy grass which became unrideable as the ground softened to the consistency of porridge, pushing ensued, as did wet feet and bramble ravaged calves. Plodding along, followed by a brace of grumbling geriatrics, just as I was thinking life couldn’t get any better, our exit path presented itself at about the same point the mud reached knee deep. Our relief at being out of the plantation was short-lived as we found ourselves in an actual jungle, squeezing through a rhododendron forest, battling through a tangled mass of leaves and branches, expecting spear-wielding headhunters or tropical creatures to appear at any moment. Like Japanese soldiers amazed to find World War II has been over for more than half a century, we eventually staggered out into the open, through a gate and into a field, where three sheep began eye-balling us with none of the usual wariness of normal sheep, each appeared to have a wool-covered rugby ball dangling between it’s back legs. An impasse followed as three hardy outdoor types stared at three cowardly cyclists, after a while the tups got bored and wandered off to stare at the ewes in the next field and we sneaked past. Easier riding, well some actual riding, brought us to Whorlton Castle, reputedly one of the most haunted ruins in England, where we stopped again for a brief explore before continuing to Swainby and a carbo refuel in the coffee shop, well worth the stop for the cakes. Although the top shelf magazine selection leaves a lot to be desired. (see photo), funny people these country folk, tractor porn I call it. Back on more familiar ground we made our way to Scugdale via Clain Wood and Cowshit Farm, then up over Carlton Bank and a speedy blast down the Gliding Club access track to our vehicles.

25^th. Another Pinchinthorpe start, four of us zig-zagging up through the forest making our way onto Newton Moor, one wearing a tripod attached to his cycling helmet like an antennae in some 1950’s sci fi B movie. A futile attempt at turning a Kodak Playsport into a headcam, even tightening my helmet until cerebral blood flow was compromised couldn’t stop the wobbling about. It isn’t too bad on tarmac, on the rough downhills viewer nausea is a real possibility. The ride, however, was great fun, no new territory for most of us, more like revisiting old favourites. Guisborough Woods, Percy Cross Rigg, Newton Moor, Easby Moor, Mill Bank Woods, Glebe Cottage (naturally), returning via Cod Hill Heights and some more Guisborough Woods singletrack. Muddy but sunny and cold.

28^th. Two rides in one week, has there been an outbreak of fitness amongst the Terra Trailblazers? Probably not. Just showing Oz the Carlton Bank singletrack we discovered the other day. This time we had the sense to avoid the jungle though. Another very pleasant day, still muddy underfoot but nice and sunny. Swainby Coffee Shop again, definitely one to put on our regular café list, very welcoming despite our usual mud-spattered dishevelled appearance.