December White Out

First and last entry for December 2010. The roads may be clear of snow and ice but if it's mountain biking you're looking for there's no escaping the stuff! I really can't believe that this winter is proving to be even more disastrous than last year for those of us that want to get off road. I haven't managed a single ride all month and I've discovered that this 'spinning' lark is just plain dangerous in comparison. So on the last day of the month family Lewis rebelled - we were going to have at least one ride in December whatever the weather!!

Sometimes you've just got to do it!!

Racing for fun - the final Nutcracker of 2010

Photo taken by Enigmatic Photography; photographs of the event can be viewed on flickr.

The final race of the Nutcracker Mountain Biking XC series was held at Hamsterley Forest in County Durham in October and as we set off early on Sunday morning it felt like winter was snapping at our heels. It might have been a beautiful frosty morning but boy was it cold when we arrived at 8.30 am. Every item of clothing was gratefully donned before we mounted our bikes and went in search of the event village and starting line.

The boys were racing in the morning and the temperature felt sub zero when they made a start but that didn't stop us giving Ben plenty of stick for wimping out on the river crossing and using the bridge instead. Still he raced hard and finished third in the Juvenile category in both this race and the series. At the same time Adam was competing in the Sweat Monster and a time trial lap of 1.34 minutes put him in second place; he struggled to maintain this pace for the race and had to settle for third overall. Not a bad outcome for a couple of lads just having some fun!

By the time the grown ups were due to race in the afternoon the temperature had risen a little but no way was it warm enough for the shorts option. Having done a practice lap earlier in the day I decided to live dangerously and stick with my SPDs. There were some tricky sections but I figured it was all in my head and if you're not committed when you're racing when are you? 

I was last off the start line not realising that the Grand Vets were being started separately after the Vets but I figured it would make little difference ... sooner or later I was going to be bringing up the rear with only two woman Vets racing. The course opened with a long section of fire trail that gradually increased in gradient until you turned off road and just kept climbing. I can climb all day on road but on off road technical uphill I haven't got the power and if you can walk faster than you can bike it kinda of defeats the object in a race. Then again there is the dilemma of  'well if you never bike it how are you going to bike it better'. These are the ridiculous conversations I have with myself as I drag my stubborn body round; that is in between generally ranting at myself for being SO slow - remind me again why I love to bike? 

Of course it wasn't all fire trails and hills there was some slip sliding through the rooty woodland undergrowth, where the gradient went radical in the opposite direction, and a river crossing. Since I was last the least I could do to entertain the spectators was give them the real deal through the water and yes it was as cold as it had looked earlier in the day. Just five minutes into the second lap I was momentarily confused by Mark coming towards me in the opposite direction. No I hadn't taken a wrong turn, a nasty virus had finally got the better of him and unlike me he wasn't use to going so slow.

The second half of the course consisted of more ascent via both fire trails and recently felled forest before we hit some fun man made descent full of bomb holes, bumps and berms. You couldn't help but have a massive grin plastered all over your face by the time you exited that section. Later there was radical descent of the more natural type; a hugely muddy vertical section that tried to misdirect your wheels by all means possible. Me and my bike were one and it was either going to be brilliant or I would wipe out in a glorious mud bath of shame ... somehow I gave the bath a miss this time round. And who ever shouted well ridden as we shot out the end of it all and headed for the finish line made my day.

That completes my first Mountain Biking Series. I came second overall in the Female Vet category simply because there were only two of us who actually competed in four or more of the races but I had a ball. I would encourage anyone with a love of biking to give racing a go no matter how scary it might seem - how you feel at the end of the race is worth it every time. Here's to seeing a few more female competitors in 2011.

Keeping the Faith

I love being out on my bike whatever the time of year - once I'm out there. The 'getting out' is always the tricky bit and its always like a zillion times easier if there is someone else to go with. I freely admit I'm spoilt because I can pretty much decide to ride any day of the week. BUT if there's nobody else free to go I feel like I shouldn't be free to go either. Its not a logical thing its just a fact. Its lucky for me that I know more than a few others that are keen to keep going even once the temperatures start to dip and the winds pick up. And so it was this Wednesday.

We headed out of Danby Dale up onto Castleton Rigg before turning back towards Castleton via some moorland single track with a few surprises. I bottled the eeky little edge where the ground falls steeply away from you on the left just as you summit a moorland mound. Pleased as I am with the progress I've made with my clip ins there are still moments when my head rules my heart - never the right way round on a bike!

We had a deadline to be back for so every time we came to a natural pause the next bit of the route was added to fit the time left. The off road ascent up to Park Nook was climbed ... almost to the top and then we churned through Danby Park Wood which had transformed into its muddy tyre sucking winter version and will no doubt stay like that for many months to come. On leaving Park Wood we turned left and suffered up squelchy uphill grassland which had us sucking in big lungfuls of air to pacify the burn in chest and legs. Wonderful to be alive and out among the glory of even a less than sunny autumnal day. Then it was a 'should I or shouldn't I' moment as we came through Ewe Craig Beck, which can run very deep in the winter, but it was fine and with a bit more conviction wouldn't have even needed a pause on the far side.

Little mental challenges, assessing and reassessing; outside with nature right against you; the physical effort; and all of it shared with a like minded friend. Perfect. Soon we were passed Rosedale Intake and out the top of Danby. Tempting though it was to just keep going time was passing and we needed to be back; so it was a quick return via the road and before we knew it bikes were being hosed down and hot tea brewed. Here's to more Wednesday rides this winter.

The Lakeland Loop: Last Day - Coniston to Bowness

We spent our last night of the trip in a B & B called Bluebird Lodge Guest House with the luxury of a comfortable double bed - although any bed seemed comfy after a day on the Lakeland Loop; and walked into town for much needed food and beer at the Black Bull Inn. It could have been sad to think we only had one day left of biking and a mere 12 miles at that but I preferred to dwell on the fact that I had almost completed a journey that I wasn't sure I could do five days earlier. What satisfaction!

Looking back that last day was gone in a blink of an eye and yet I know we skirted Coniston Water by road before forcing tired legs up one more climb through forest to Hawkshead Moor and the manufactured pleasure of Griezdale Forest's North Face Trail. Why we were whooping round a mountain biking trail centre on the final day of such an epic trip was incomprehensible but that's the nature of the addiction. I think it follows the 'it was there so we did it' logic.

Finally we left the trails behind and descended through Devils Gallop on the final stretch. We paused to treat ourselves to tea and scones before those last few tarmac miles round Windermere and timed our arrival to perfection just catching the ferry which deposited back at Bowness fifteen minutes later. Amazingly our car was exactly as we had left it abandoned on the road side six days earlier or was that a life time ago ...

The Lakeland Loop: Day Five - Eskdale to Coniston

Apparently I took AGES to wake up on the fifth morning of our Lakeland Loop adventure. But I was downstairs eating breakfast in Eskdale yha by 7.30am which is surely all that can be asked of a girl who took her mountain bike over Black Sail Pass the day before. The start of Day five wound down the valley of Eskdale keeping the river close to hand and revealing along the way an unexpected rainforest of Rhododendrons. The greenery towered over us ancient and vast and inspired a peaceful awe as we peddled along. The surreal nature of the ride continued as we traversed a perfectly manicured golf course in the middle of just nowhere.

Next we were forced to do a couple of miles on the road as we rode up, up, up towards Waberthwaite Fell; but at least there was a sea view as compensation on the way. Mark had nothing but bad memories of the trek across Waberthwaite Fell; 'horrible, boggy, pathless' were a few of the more complimentary adjectives he supplied. I was more upbeat about the whole thing not having tried and failed to find any discernible bridleway before and it sure beat yesterday's pain and anguish. The ascent might have been unrewarding but as always there was a fast and furious descent, this time down through Bigert Mire Farm and onto a picturesque bridge just outside of Ulpha. As we sat on the bridge eating ice creams the sun came out and everything in the world seemed right. Today we had sandwiches and crisps and having had none yesterday boy did we appreciate them. It was all very acceptable and I could almost pretend that there wasn't another up lurking in the not too distant future!

We were riding through a tapestry of starkly contrasting scenery. Birks Wood just after lunch, with its carpet of bluebells, was gentle English poetry sandwiched between the remoteness of Waberthwaite Fell behinds us and Walna Scar yet to come. But before that there was Kiln Bank which one of those climbs that hadn't even registered on our richter scale until we were on it. I kept thinking 'this isn't a proper hill' and then we'd go round another corner and still the road was rising upwards, another whole section of up. 

Finally, we turned off the tarmac and skirted the contours of Brown Haw and Dunnerdale Fells on some fabulous single track. You couldn't help but ride it like you were out for a couple of hours of fun it just grabbed you and asked to ridden in technicolour. Of course when the single track ended and the fire road took over I paid the price and was very faded as I pushed on towards Walna Scar. Mark kept saying stuff like 'were nearly there now' and 'its just round...over...through ...' He told lies all the way up past White Pike and onto some sort of slate quarry which he swore blind was part of the route despite the fact that we had to throw our bikes over slate piles as high as houses. But I could see a bridleway emerging on the other side of the quarry with what looked like a wonderful descent and my spirits rose. Mark didn't disillusion me of our direction until we hit the path and then instead of turning left and descending he turned right on a route that went up as far as the eye could see. 

I wanted to cry. Instead I pushed - incredibly slowly. I think it is probably the slowest I have ever pushed my bike but eventually we made the summit of the highest pass on the whole trip. On cue it started to rain. I was determined to be grumpy but the descent was just impossible to resist and within moments I had a smile on my face as we skated on boulders and surfed the pebbles past all those poor walkers in the rain. True they had strolled up the pass while we had suffered with our bikes and packs but as they joked about grabbing a lift on the way down I knew it had been worth all the effort. 

Racing for fun - the Nutcracker Rounds 4 & 5

Just back from our Summer holidays we should have been race fit for Round 4 of the Nutcracker Series at Fremlington Edge in Swaledale; a place we had never mountain biked before. Even as we parked the car I didn't like what I could see of the course - a massive grassy ascent straight onto the open moorland, not that you could see the moorland it was somewhere over the horizon! If there's one thing I struggle with its going vertical on grass ... I know I'm just a moaning minny. 

Time was of the essence if we wanted to get a practice lap in before Ben was due to start his race at 10am so we got going. Almost instantly it became apparent that it was a very tough course for Adam, 11 years old to be cycling so we took it steady while the other two disappeared into the stratosphere. OK it wasn't that steep but it felt like it. I had started using clip ins in the previous two weeks and thought I'd see how I faired with them on the course - badly was the answer! We were both out of sorts and it would have been a smart move to turn round and save our energy but unfortunately for Adam I was too stubborn to go for that option. We didn't make it back until just gone 10am when we could see Ben's race disappearing into the distance and Adam's first session on the Time Trial course was already under way. Poor kid, the rest of the field were fresh as daisies while he had been dragged round a seriously strenuous course for the last hour and had some nasty war wounds on his legs to show for it. Still he gave it his best shot and after both the timed lap and cross country race managed a very tired fifth place.

Photo taken by Enigmatic Photography; photographs of the event can be viewed on flickr. 

Meanwhile Ben was coping well with the physical ascent on the main course grabbing a few places as he toiled upwards and managing to hold onto third place during the very technical descent from Fremlington Edge and onto the finish line. A tough course and his best result to date - fantastic.

Photo taken by Enigmatic Photography; photographs of the event can be viewed on flickr. 

Once the kids had finished doing their thing the adults had a few hours to contemplate what lay ahead before lining up on the start line at 2pm. Unfortunately, I wasn't quite so successful on the grassy ascent as Ben had been and it was every bit as bad as I had imagined but once I reached the rocky moorland tracks I could get into my stride and the technical descent on the home bound leg of the course was pure focused adrenaline. I had ditched my clip ins for my beloved flatties but there was still a tricky little section that got the better of me. After the radical descent the track became barely a wheel width wide and clung to the contour of the hillside. On the first two laps of the course I found myself pitched off the right hand side of my bike into a steep bank of bracken and nettles at this point without quite knowing why. I'm sure toddlers often find themselves abruptly unseated as they struggle to gain command of legs and arms but as an adult it is a most bizarre sensation. Still I got the better of it on the final lap; a small victory but one I was happy to take. What's more I was the second woman vet over the line - or the last which ever way you want to look at it!

Photo taken by Enigmatic Photography; photographs of the event can be viewed on flickr.

Mark was the final Lewis clan member to cross the finish line and managed his own personal victory being the last man to complete four laps in the time allowed - although three laps more than enough for me. The kids did a brilliant job of supporting us throughout the afternoon; and I'm not sure they weren't going faster on foot than I was on my bike.

September saw us at Camp Hill to complete the Fifth Round of the Nutcracker and this time we got ourselves  a bit more organised. Mark and Ben did their practice lap in plenty of time before the 10am race. Meanwhile I hung out with Adam so that he could enjoy his Sweat Monster's event without being traumatised before he started. This worked much better and I still managed to fit in most of a practice lap before the elite race got under way. Unfortunately it was Ben's turn to suffer and he got a puncture very early on in his race. I was waiting for him at the finish line and was slightly anxious when he didn't arrive back as expected; then an ambulance crew was sent out to a boy having an asthma attack and I got really worried. Not that Ben has ever had asthma but being a parent is not always a logical thing. Finally word came back that he was running the entire course rather than have DNF against his name - I think I was prouder than if he'd finished at the front. 

The Camp Hill course was so much quicker this time in the dry than it had been during Round One in the wet; and since it is a much less technical course than the one at Swaledale I thought I'd give my clip ins another go. The combination of both factors meant I lapped at least ten minutes a lap faster than in April despite there being an extra lap in Round Five. Yeah, I know it's starting to sound like 'biking for boys' not 'biking for girls' how boring! Anyhow despite all that fantasizing I still managed to come last but hey ho I definitely beat all those millions that didn't even enter! While I had to settle for last place Mark had another good race and managed to finish about half way up the field - slow but sure improvement. So there we are only one more round of the series left which is a shame but hopefully we'll get to do it all again next year.

Mountain Biking at Kielder

Summer 2010 and we had decided to revisit Kielder to check out the improvements in the mountain biking since we were last here in 2005. It wasn't just the place that had changed, the kids had too, Ben is now taller and faster than me and Adam just can't wait to be able to say the same. On the last visit we camped and the rumours about the midges are not exaggerated which certainly ensured the tent erection was a fast and furious activity. This time round we decided to go up market and booked into Kielder yha for four nights where we made full use of the drying room and the great food which is served up every night on site.

We woke on Tuesday morning keen to get our first ride of the holidays under way. During the night it had rained, everything was wet and there was a fine drizzle falling - still it was warm and there didn't seem like any reason not to get going. We called in at the Bike Place to get some maps and the consensus seemed to be to start on the Lonesome Pine Trail with the option of expanding into the Bloody Bush Trail if and when we felt the need. We should have taken more notice of the warnings in the literature 'As with all trails in Kielder, please be fully prepared for riding in remote environments and come properly equipped. The weather can change rapidly and small equipment failures can quickly turn into a more serious situation. Always let somebody know where you are going and when you are due back.' ...

The weather didn't improve but the singletrack was simple flowing fun perfect for the conditions under wheel. Even the poor light couldn't disguise the beauty and remoteness of the surrounding countryside revealed once we'd climbed 'Stairway to heaven' and made it to the 'Lonesome Pine' section of the trail. The latter comprises one of the longest sections of Northshore in the UK. The boarding is two metres wide, not because cyclists can't steer very well this far north but because the trail is so exposed that in windy conditions nobody can steer very well! 

The boys were keen to take a left turn at this point and explore the Bloody Bush Trail while I decided to stay with the Lonesome Pine Trail and hit the 'Purdom Plunge' with renewed vigour. Less than five minutes after we'd parted company the weather decided to up the anti big time. First came the rain, torrential seems like an accurate description, it was simply bouncing off the ground. The trail transformed into a river almost instantaneously. The temperature plummeted and the rain became hail which was thrown equally viciously from the leaden skies; my skull felt like it was being fast frozen in its helmet. There was thunder, lightening, the full works it was both scary and exhilarating and the fabulous descent down 'Bewshaugh' was a race against hypothermia. A slip, sliding, helter skelter of a ride where speed and the need for shelter pushed against the increasing likelihood of bike and person parting company. One part of my mind was completely  engrossed in the ride while the other was praying that Mark had turned back and was hard on my heels with the kids.

Half an hour after I'd made it back to the yha I was starting to feel warm again but it had taken a long, long hot shower, dry clothes and a warm drink. Now I was fretting about the rest of my family. I knew they didn't have enough warm clothing to sustain an extended period in these conditions. Thankfully, three sodden figure appeared shortly, Ben wearing the only pair of waterproof trouser and Adam with a silver survival blanket wrapped round the inside of his waterproof jacket. Two minutes later and they were both in hot showers. Lesson learnt - despite being August we didn't venture out again without full waterproofs ...

The Lakeland Loop: Day Four - Buttermere to Eskdale

Day 4 of our Lakeland Loop trip was also my 46th birthday and the day we were destined to go over Black Sail Pass. The previous three days were catching up with me and I woke up tired or rather didn't wake up despite the fact that I was riding my bike. I was pretty much asleep as we tried our best to cycle the route that led between Buttermere and Crummock Water and then over the top to Mosedale Beck but it seemed an impossible task. The route had turned into some sort of rocky hell hole that then digressed further into intermittent boggyness and finally impossible upwards gradients. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing to be at least three quarters asleep. Eventually we got a rapid descent down into Ennerdale for all our hard work and found ourselves on a pathway with high walls on either side. This became rather awkward when a fallen tree totally obstructed the path but with a bit of manoeuvring we managed to squeeze underneath it although Mark was abruptly reminded that he still had a rucksack attached when he couldn't quite fit on his first attempt.

We were under the impression that there would be 'tea and buns' at Bowness but there was not so much as a crumb to be had and it was the same story at Ennerdale yha and Black Sail yha. We should have booked a packed lunch to bring with us from Buttermere yha but we hadn't ... The most difficult aspect of the fire roads through Ennerdale Forest turned out to be a man and his dog. The dog walker obviously knew the score because he did his best to put as much distance as he could between us and his dog. Mark, on the other hand, was oblivious to the possibility of attack pretty much until the moment the dog nipped him quickly on the ankle. The dog was lucky as clip ins prevented a swift retaliation and Mark was still cursing the dog when we arrived at Black Sail Hut from where we could see the towering mountain pass for which we were destined on the other side of the valley. 

It was at this stage in the proceedings that I finally woke up. As usual Mark was leading the way over what is 'the Loop's second official carry'; feeling a tad sorry for me he came back to offer me a hand with my bike. This kick started me into action as there was no way I was going to forego the pleasure of claiming I had done the Loop ALL by myself. I would get myself and my bike over every inch of said route if it took me forever ... it probably seemed like forever to Mark as he was forced to watch me creep ever higher up the pass. To cap it all there appeared to be a group of older gentlemen watching our antics from the comfort of Black Sail Hut. I would loved to have heard their comment  'eh, look at that fellow letting that poor woman struggle on up there without so much as lending a hand'. It cheered me up no end as I considered such imaginary conversations far below.

The good mood lasted to the col but carrying your bike downhill just doesn't seem right and the initial descent was so difficult neither of us could hold our nerve to ride it. We blamed the lack of food and extreme exertion for our shakiness but I think we might have been kidding ourselves. However, once the descent became slightly less radical it was pure delight as we zigged and zagged for all we were worth right into Wasdale Head Inn and two of the largest bar meals that money could buy. 

After gorging ourselves to bursting point it was onwards and upwards for the third time that day and a blur of wet, grassy, boggy, unrideable surfaces - I think I might have been a touch mardy until we final skirted Burnmoor Tarn. Then we had the pleasure of a wonderful techy descent all the way down into Boot and our bed for the night at Eskdale yha. Mad as it sounds I think I need to do this day again when I'm not quite so knackered before I start!

C2C Second Time Round: Whitehaven to Tynemouth

Every once in a while its natural to get the urge to do something a bit different and my mate Carol decided that the C2C was the challenge for her which is how I came to do the C2C for a second time in 2010 ... she persuaded me ... I persuaded my sister ... and then despite it being 'biking for girls' we all persuaded our other halves. A biking holiday would be a great laugh I said - Carol took exception to the use of the noun 'holiday' given the level of mental and physical torture she was anticipating but it was all for a good cause. She was raising money for the National Autistic Society and had already advertised the fact that she was doing the Whitehaven to Tynemouth route when we realised that entailed a longer and somewhat more strenuous start to the trip. There was much cursing before hand but as we sat feeding our faces in Siskin's cafe at the top of Whinlatter Pass it was agreed by one and all that the scenery we had just passed through was more than worth the extra effort. Definitely the best place to start from so far!

The route from Keswick to Penrith was familiar from last time and we were blessed with a sunny rain free day which was pretty exceptional given the rain and wind that we'd had all week. These may seem like inane comments but when you've cycled in the latter you are very grateful for the former and we arrived at our B&B with plenty of time for a good soak in the bath before wandering down to The George Hotel for food. It had been a 5am start and a 54 mile route over terrain somewhat hillier than that found in Rutland where Carol normally does her biking - she could barely keep her eyes open and eat at the same time. There was just time to purchase painkillers and snacks for the next days riding before sleep claimed us all.

While four of us headed out of Penrith on Saturday morning, the other two made a detour to the local bike shop to pick up some bar ends. It wasn't until we had completed the first major climb of the day and made it to the warmth of Hartside Cafe that we all regrouped for lunch. Everyone was elated with the climb, no one more so that my hubby who appeared to have a waterfall of sweat cascading down his face as he bounced through the doors of the cafe claiming he'd 'just taken it steady' up the hill. Obviously!!

I had been concerned about the cycle from Penrith to our bed for the night just outside of Rookhope. There were some serious hills to be conquered and in truth you were either inching your way painfully up a monster climb or burning brakes on the next descent - there was no middle ground. I need not have been worried. Carol's satisfied countenance appeared over the top of every climb, 'amazing' she would pant before pedalling on. Red legs meant she was on the way up and blue legs signalled a descent in progress. 

The long, winding descent from Hartside down into Leadgate is fabulous payback for all the hard work done but then comes the climb out of Garigill for me the most gruelling of the four climbs of the day. Last time round we'd broken this climb up with some well earned rests but there was no such luxury this time much to Fee's consternation. Still she had enough breath left to articulate her feelings over this minor oversight so we figured she couldn't have really needed the rests. Must be getting fitter! Next it was the vertical descent into Nenthead. Steve had brought the kitchen sink with him and so aided by gravity and a kamikazi mentality he went for it clocking 40 mph plus before rounding the final corner of the descent to find a fast approaching T junction in his view. There was a distinct smell of smoke and burning brakes when the rest of us arrived at a more life preserving pace sensible moments later. 

From Nenthead we pressed upwards again to Black Hill, the highest point of the route and into Northumberland before swooping down to Allenheads and finally being allowed a hot drink at the cafe. Then it was yet another ascent over the top this time into the County of Durham and a glorious sight - the road winding downhill as far as the eye could see. We could almost taste the finish line for the day and at least this time round it would come as no surprise that the B&B was at the top of yet one more hill! 

Day three and we were all still alive and kicking. There was just that wee hill out of Stanhope and it would be down hill all the way to the sea. Crawleyside Bank was not going to defeat us no matter how long, how steep or how cruel it was. One by one we pedalled our way up and on to Parkhead cafe where it was hot chocolate with marshmallows to celebrate. Mark J had cycled every last one of the climbs despite biking not really being his sport and a rather ancient stead - another convert?! 

After that we were on a roll, literally, the Waskerley Way flew by and then on the edge of Consett we turned left and headed towards Rowlands Gill and Tynemouth. It was easy cycling compared with the day before but still scenic as the old railway line wended its way through peaceful woodlands. There was the occasional bridge or viaduct to bring a frisson of excitement as we looked down on tree tops and contemplated not jumping. The threatened rain never materialised until we were pedalling through the centre of Newcastle and we dived into a Witherspoons Pub for our last meal together. By the time we emerged for the final ten miles it was sunshine as usual. We were so intent on finishing that we were caught by surprise by the American cyclist tucked in close (on the wrong side of the road) as we all converged on yet one more corner. A bit of a pile up ensued as Mark L went head to head with the poor man and I slammed into the back of them both. Luckily it was only cuts and grazes and the smell of the sea soon distracted us. What a fantastic three days, not only great cycling but great company and memories that will last long afterwards. Thank you Carol for giving us all such a good excuse to get together - when can we do it again?

The Lakeland Loop: Day Three - Bassenthwaite to Buttermere

Day three dawned and we left the civilisation of our  Lakeside Country Guest House for another day of needless toil. As if to emphases this point, as we headed towards Braithwaite, we managed forest detours via Wythop Mill and Whinlatter just for the hell of it, or so it seemed. Still there was a whizzy little descent through Wythop Woods that I'd missed on my C2C route earlier in the year and the bike shop and cafe at Whinlatter Visitor Centre both came in useful. Then we were flying down Whinlatter pass avoiding eye contact with those poor souls creeping past in the upward direction.

The floods earlier in the year had taken out a vital bridge in Newlands Valley and the road was besieged with signs alerting us to this fact but we were not keen on any further detours so we manhandled our bikes across both river and new flood defences before wending our way up onto the Cat Bells bridleway. The sun shone and the scenery sparkled as we paralleled Derwent Water just far enough away to maintain our serenity. Then as the bridleway descended into a rocky avenue lined with stone walls the mind became more focused on the loose surface and plentiful drop offs. Confidence blossomed and I over estimated just how far the forks could travel before bottoming out and dumping me unceremonishly over the bars in front of a group of elderly walkers. Oops!

As we free wheeled into Grange it seemed to me that a ice cream was called for but my suggestion was met with a grumpy response. I pointed out that this was suppose to be a holiday and that a woman can be pushed too far - I didn't really know what was ahead of me otherwise I might have had two!! The road up past Ashness Bridge was steep and winding and the sun was merciless as I slowly hauled my sweaty body past more sedate tourists; 'are you mad or are you sick' asked one cheerful group ... But it was worth it, Surprise View provided a stunning yet secluded vista of Derwent Water and was the perfect resting spot before continuing onwards. We exited the woods above Surprise View to see, what appeared to me, some new and undiscovered valley reminiscent of the 'hidden valley' of childhood films laid out before us. A truly magical place which only improved with our arrival at Watendlath cafe tucked away at the very end of the unwinding tarmac.  'Mr Smith I can confirm you were correct in your assessment of the flapjack!'

Refreshed from large quantities of tea and flapjack we continued off road over Grange Fell and then made the most of the hairy descent to Rosthwaite before killing a few more gentle miles to Seatoller. Anticipation was building as I knew Honistor pass was looming near and all that that entailed. I didn't know if my determination to ride the pass would really see me to the top, the gradient was punishing in places and endless, endless, endless. I tried desperately to distract myself from the torturous ascent, the heat, the lack of respite but it was the bare fact that pushing up wouldn't actually be any easier that kept me going. And then suddenly Mark was there taking photos and cheering and I realised that this was as far as the road went and that I'd done it - oh yeah! The descent was awesome. It started cool, in the shade of the fells and windy; eerily different from the ascent as if marking a transition. The road surface was rough and uneven like the tarmac had set in watery waves and then it unfolded into glorious, dazzling light, a carpet of lakeland greenery scattered through the dizzy descent ending with trees and rhododendrons and a picturesque youth hostel complete with sunny veranda. Obviously I tried out the veranda while Mark found a home for the bikes. Day three done and dusted.

The Lakeland Loop: Day Two - Patterdale to Bassenthwaite

Day two of the Lakeland Loop was easy peasy in comparison to the first day despite the route card clocking it at only three miles less. Armed with this knowledge and having survived the previous day all was good in my world as we skirted Ulswater and then headed upwards on tarmac that was already hot and sticky. It was still early but as soon as the gradient steepened I could feel beads of sweat popping out of pores and trickling off my face, it was going to be another scorcher. A fat ginger cat hugged the narrow band of shadow on the stonewalled road opposite me, seeking out the shade and ignoring the strangers on bikes toiling upwards in the sunshine. A road cyclist eased past me as if I was stationary his skinny tyres making light work of the climb up through Dockray. I felt amazingly self satisfied he would probably be done and dusted in a couple of hours while we had a gorgeous five days more of biking. 

The first five miles of tarmac were followed by the Old Coach Road and five miles of fast, fun-filled track and fabulous views. The speed and eekiness of the route required full concentration and yet the scenery was calling out to be appreciated what a wonderful dilemma! Before we knew it the magic was over and we were back on the tarmac with another big climb up through Threkeld to Blencathra National Park Centre and lunch or so we had thought but there was not a crumb to be had at the Centre. A quick look at the map confirmed my worst fears that there would be nowhere to eat until we'd virtually reached our destination for the day. I could feel my sense of humour was about to fail big time when Mark whipped out his fancy phone, located a pub in Threkeld and booked us a table ... yes we did have to retrace our steps down one mile of very steep hillside but there would be food at the end. The Horse and Farrier Inn did us proud and we well and truly indulged ourselves before tackling the climb back up past the Centre and onto a bridleway which took us up to the remote Skiddaw House YHA. Once again the scenery was all encompassing without a car, road or other building in sight. Having eaten our fill earlier we were now surrounded by food for the soul

From the YHA there were only a couple of short ups before we were into crazy descent territory with a  finish alongside Whitewater Dash Waterfall. The route spiralled downwards persuading us to risk ever increasing speeds in the pursuit of that perfect ride; mind and body calculating the angle, the line, feeling the route unwind until it was done and we could only look back with wide grins and deep breathing at the descent newly completed.

   

Once through the final gate we were reluctant to return to the tarmac and so opted for a bridleway through fields, which were as hard as nails and equally uncomfortable. Finally we succumbed to the road wending across to Bassenthwaite and the Lakeside Country Guest House our B&B for the night. Tea and biscuits were served on the terrace which was very civilised but we were in need of further sustenance and for the second time in a day had to retrace our steps to find food, this time at the Castle Inn back round the other side of the Lake.

Girls on Tour: Bilsdale and back the hard way

It has become something of a tradition that once a year a few of us girls cancel all other commitments and take off for a couple of days of mountain biking heaven - or should that be hell? One weekend in July was the agreed date and at 8.30am three of us were due to meet at Danby Village Hall before heading up Fryup Dale to pick up another three intrepid would be mountain bikers. As usual I was running late and as I blasted out of Park Wood full of anticipation for the forthcoming weekend I couldn't resist practising a jump or two. Splat! I was to rue that moment of silliness the whole weekend long.

Last year we left Fryup Head via the Waterfall so this year we needed a new exit point and plumbed for Raven Hill, surely it would be less extreme? No, the bridleway seemed to become less and less distinct as the gradient increased and the bracken surrounded us on all sides; the route planner was generally abused and it was agreed that next year we were under no circumstances setting off via Fryup! Still as usual the views were fabulous and we felt like intrepid adventurers exploring the great unknown despite being only a few miles from home.

We briefly found tarmac in the form of New Way Road before heading back along the Trough House bridleway. The plan was to turn off onto the George Gap Causeway in due course but this was easier said than done. On our first attempt certain members of the party were so caught up in showing a group of 'fellow' mountain bikers just how this section of the route should be ridden, that we overshot our turning. Our second attempt proved even less successful and a good hour of pushing through heather and bracken ensued while we tried to find said Causeway. We celebrated briefly on finding what appeared to be a motorway carving up the moors but after a gleeful few miles downhill realised that we had stumbled across the Lyke Wake Walk which was taking us rapidly in the wrong direction. There was nothing for it but to bike back the way we had come, finally finding the causeway as it intersected with our motorway. By this time we really needed to get some miles under our belts if we were to reach our beds in daylight so we took the highway back to the road and then put the pedal down until we reached the Lion Inn on Blakey Ridge and a well overdue lunch.

After plenty of good food and painkillers, my knee was not impressed with being used as a braking device first thing, we jumped onto a very straight forward bridleway that was once an old railway line. This meant we could make good time across the moors to Bloworth Crossing despite wind and a spot of rain. A fast, warming descent off the top through Bloworth Woods brought us out into Bransdale an isolated but beautiful, peaceful place which always makes me think I have finally found the Hidden Valley. Last time I cycled here the road had subsided in one place and was impassable by car; now repairs were in progress which meant that a whole section of road was barred by some ten foot high metal fencing. There was no way we were making a detour at this point in the day so we managed to 'open' and 'close' said fencing before tackling the climb back onto the moorside.

We were still keen to push on and make up for time lost earlier; we only needed to cross Bilsdale East Moor and drop down into the valley to find our resting place for the night. A quick look at the map showed that we could save ourselves a detour if we took the footpath across the moors to Black Holes were it joined up with the bridleway we needed for our descent. 

All went well until we rejoined the bridleway and then made, what in hindsight was obviously, a very wrong turn that led us to the head of Kyloe Cow Beck and a near impossible descent. The group was divided, should we go forward and risk further injuries or retrace our descent over paths which were sliding into a scarily steep ravine. At the end of the day when the choice is between possible free fall or yet more pushing the decision is always the same - down beats up every time! In the end the only casualty was my tyre when I didn't get the lift quite right over a certain barbed wire fence and a puncture was a small price to pay to make it back to a proper bridleway and then a final stretch of tarmac. We were booked into The Smithy a B&B at Laskill Grange and finished the day with the most fabulous evening meal up at the Grange. It was quite surreal - three courses of delectable food appeared and disappeared at the elegantly set table while we sipped wine and relaxed in the candle light despite our lack of footwear (extra weight) and slightly off key outfits chosen for optimum packing rather than final effect.

The return journey proved slightly less traumatic since it was decided a repeat of the previous day might result in no takers for any future events. We high tailed it back up the B1257 to Chop Gate and then took a left onto Raisdale Road until we reached Lord Stone Cafe at Carlton Bank. It was bit of a cheat to abuse the tarmac for quite so long but moral was definitely improved by clocking up a few miles and we were then in a position to have some fun whooping along some fun-tastic bridleway that eventually brought us out just above Clay Bank car park. This was followed by some more sedate tracks through Greenhow and Battersby Plantations round the base of the incline until we fetched up at Bank Foot. Again we grabbed a few cheap miles on the tarmac to bring us out at Kildale and Glebe Cottage tearooms where coffee cake is the answer to any questions you may have. 

Despite some very tired legs, an impressive collection of bruises and virtually no tyre left unmended  we couldn't finish without one last venture onto moorland single track. So it was up through Little Kildale Wood and a field or two before we hit some radical descent and a sweet stretch across Kildale Moor to exit above Hob Hole. Shortly afterwards we started to peel off as first Commondale, Castleton and then Danby were reached before finally the last weary bodies arrived back in Fryup ... from which we will not be departing next year!!!

The Lakeland Loop: Day One - Bowness on Windermere to Patterdale

If you ever get the chance to do the Lakeland Loop grab it with both hands and say yes; don't what ever you do think about it first. There are a million reason why you should decline but once you've said yes there's no going back and you'll do it whatever it takes. After all anyone can turn the pedals just one more time, anyone can put one foot in front of the other and anyone can do the Lakeland Loop if they say yes.

Mark had done the Loop before with some like minded mates over four days but I was clear from the start that if we were doing it, it was by the book or in this case the Mountain Bike Route Pack and that was a more sensible 6 day ride. We left home in North Yorkshire early one Saturday morning and by the time we arrived in Bowness it was obvious that it was going to be a very, very hot day. Bone meltingly hot. The kind of hot that makes it insane to be thinking of carrying your bike 1400' to the summit of High Street and on, and on, and on ...

But given how much organisation it had taken to ensure our kids would be safe and sound for the duration of the trip there was no option but to proceed with plan A. There was no plan B. So there we were on our bikes and wending our way towards High Street and the start of that infamous (to me) mountainous ridge that runs between Haweswater and Ullswater. We were like two little kids let out to play when as we came shooting down a steep rocky section rather too enthusiastically Mark got his first puncture of the day ....

As we were travelling light and didn't have a never ending supply of inners we really needed to try and take it a bit steadier. Luckily the sight of the mamouth climb slowly being revealed ahead of us was enough to make us see sense, for a while at least. As the climb steepened the conversation slowed and a gap started to open up between us. There's just no point going any pace but your own pace over a route like this still it was reassuring  when every time I looked up, there he was a splash of red ahead. It felt like I was toiling in an oven, everything smelled hot, hot dirt like toasted ground singeing through my airways. On and on the narrowed trail climbed, the next step always higher than the last; on the steepest sections I would count my steps allowing myself a few moments of motionless breathing before continuing to drag body and bike skywards.

The views from the top were worth every moment of the long ascent with first Brotherswater and then Ullswater far below on one side and Haweswater on the other. It felt wild, remote and mad to be on our bikes in such a place, the distant Lakeland water accentuating our heavenly height.

 
Once the main climb was done the ridge rose and fell, an endless journey of mountain biking pleasure Rampsgill Head, High Raise, Raven Howe, Red Crag, Wether Hill all came and went. And then finally Loadpot Hill and we were in free fall like two stone gathering speed on this massive mountain descent. We checked for a moment at The Cockpit Stone Circle, turned back on ourselves and surged forward once again over dusty, rocky singletrack. With the height loss came a people gain, it was a fabulous Saturday afternoon and the walkers were out in numbers as we swung past Barton Park Woods in a haze of dust covered sweat. We'd appeared out of nowhere and civilization felt strange even after a few hours on the those more singular fells. Again we were brought to our senses by a flat, this time a pinch puncture which was in reality a lucky escape given the force with which bike hit rock!

Howtown Hotel and the lure of pints of cold, sweet coke couldn't be missed although we looked a little out of place compared with the other cool, clean clientele. It was easy to think we had nearly finished but in reality there was some very technical singletrack yet to do. The route skirted the edge of Ullswater from Sandwick to Patterdale and as the afternoon wore on towards 5 o'clock the temperature never let up for a moment. Day one of the Lakeland Loop and I was already adding to my wish list - I definitely want to ride this section of the route again on fresh legs.

Patterdale YHA was a welcome sight, the end of the first day's biking. It was years, make that decades, since either of us had stayed in a Youth Hostel but that school-like, institutional feel was so familiar. Memories of backpacking round Europe in my twenties burst into my consciousness from nowhere and added to the sense of being on an adventure. We were meeting another Mark (brother in law) for an evening meal that night so it was a quick shower and change into the only alternative set of clothes we'd brought before heading off for some extra large portions of dinner. We ate sat outside the Ratcher's Tavern where the sound of a babbling brook and yet more of that endless sunshine made our re-entry into the civilized world a little less strange.

Racing for fun - the 2010 British XC Series at Dalby

Holy moly what a blast yet another chance to bike the World UCI Cross Country circuit at Dalby this time as part of the British XC Series for 2010. Having just raced this circuit a couple of weeks before at the Nutcracker I knew what I wanted to achieve and I'm not talking about times or positions cos you don't have those sort of goal when you're doing it for fun! But there was a certain rock feature that I'd totally bottled last time round that just had to be faced down. 

Arriving early enough to go and have a look at the said rocky ramp my mate tried to convince me that it was all in my head. Apparently you just needed to cycle like stink until just before you hit the rock and then hold on while you and bike eased effortlessly up and over? Sounded simply apart from the small streak of self preservation that kept saying stuff like 'are you completely nuts you're going to break at least one bone if you try to get over that' and 'brake NOW'. Doing my best to ignore such voices in my head and following close on the heels of Ruth we tore along the fire track and rocketed up the seemingly vertical stone ... I was over the top and still in one piece. It felt like I had a train in my chest my heart was beating so violently and the ton of adrenaline that had just poured into my system was actually making it pretty difficult to breath but I'd done it. We practised a few more times. I knew I could do it now but I wanted to be a bit more in control rather than on the verge of going airborne, however, as I discovered too slow and you're forced to put a foot down at the top. We decided the mental barrier was sorted and the fine tuning would come during the race, it was time to have a quick recky of Medussa's Drop and consider the options.

We timed our arrival at Medussa's drop to perfection. The first aid crew were carefully helping a battered cyclist to his feet with what looked suspiciously like a broken shoulder. My mind was made up. I really didn't feel the need to take that sharp right hand diversion today; the chicken run would do me just fine. Perhaps I'd come back and get my head round that particular challenge next time. I was pretty sure that the 10 seconds I might save on the more vertical descent wasn't going to make any difference to my race.

So all that was left to do was the race itself. Usually I hate the first lap of a race, struggling to get my breathing regulated but today I'd had so much adrenaline before the race that I felt ready to go and even managed to hang onto Ruth's back wheel ... until we hit our first short ascent and then she was gone. Everything was going well and I was just completing my second lap when I had my one and only mishap of the day. Just before coming back onto the starting field I heared 'rider on the left' behind me and moved over. I must have momentarily lost concentration because the next thing I knew my handlebars were facing the other way and a large wooden gate post was trying to embed itself into the right hand side of my body. After coping successfully with a relatively technical course it was the height of embarrassment to miss a gate way. I scrambled back onto my bike praying nobody had seen and got out of there pronto. Still I did do my best ascent of the day over the rocky ramp on the third lap and then to my total amazement (and everyone else's I think) arrived over the finishing line to hear I had got third place - a podium finish in the British XC Series was too good to be true. It's never likely to happen again but it just goes to show that you never know what you can do until you give it a go!

Girls on Tour: the C2C road route Rookhope to Sunderland

As you can see spirits were high the morning of the third day of the C2C ... we had broken the back of the route and were confident that everyone would be able to finish what they had started! Not only that but there was reported to be just one last big climb at the start of the day known as Crawleyside Bank; this held no fear after we had conquered so many climbs yesterday. Of course ignorance is always bliss, a conclusion we quickly reached even as we toiled on the lower stretches of this final mammoth climb. Eventually, after leaving all signs of civilization behind and continuing onto open moorland we reached Parkhead Station the 100 mile point on the C2C with the promise of downhill all the way to Sunderland.

The Waskerley Way is a traffic free, off road section with a gentle downhill gradient. Finally, I thought I was going to get some benefit from toiling along on a mountain bike but fate decreed otherwise as I got my second puncture of the ride, Chris 2 Everyone else 0! 

Still it was easily fixed and we were on our way again completing the Waskerley Way and on through Consett where finally someone else succumbed to a puncture a 'stonking, dirty nail through the tyre' affair. Cue cold, wet downpour and a time costly struggle to inflate the new inner. For the first time in three day everyone was wearing their waterproofs, gloves and anything else they could find to keep warmish and dryish? Finally we got ourselves sorted and pressed on to find lunch at the Shepherd and Shepherdess Pub in Beamish ... late again. Ravenous we all ordered masses of food including sticky desserts and while we were in the pub the sun came out; so it was with renewed vigour that we set off on the final section of our C2C.

We pressed onto the finish line conscious that there were many waiting partners and children at the Marina at Roker in Sunderland. This part of the route was surprisingly scenic and the final stretch follows the riverside sculpture trail so you get art work thrown in as well. The finish was one of those perfect moments when the sun shines and friends, new and old, grin widely with surprise at what they have achieved together ;)

  

Many thanks to everyone else who put in so much time and effort organising and taking part in this trip they were: Carol, Caroline, Clare, Fee, Liz, Ruth, Sally, Tanya and Vicky. What next girls ....

Racing for fun - the latest event - the Nutcracker at Dalby Forest

Photos taken by Enigmatic Photography; all photographs of the event can be viewed on flickr. 

Sunday dawned wet and miserable and I was seriously questioning why it had seemed like a good idea to register for Round 3 of the Nutcracker Series a week ago. It wasn’t the weather, it was just one of those days when you know you’re going to struggle and you start thinking do I need to do this? YES, YES, YES by 4pm I was hot, sweaty and feeling on top of the world - its amazing what a bit (make that a lot) of adrenaline can do for a girl.

Anyhow to go back to the beginning. Sunday 13th June 2010 was the third race in the Nutcracker Series and it was at Dalby Forest on the World Cup course. Wow, only a few weeks earlier thousands of people had congregated here to watch the best XC mountain bikers in the world battle it out on this course.and now we were here again with our own bikes in tow. 

First up was Ben at 10am competing in the Juvenille section. Now you have to bear in mind that Ben gets out once a week on a Wednesday night for a quick blast round the North Yorkshire Moors. But like his mother he’s never been one to let a little thing like lack of preparation stop him having a go. I was glad they had taken out two of the more death defying sections of the course for everyone under 16; namely the big drop off in Worry Gill and a hair raising descent known as Medusa’s Drop. Even so I wasn’t completely sure whether I was exhibiting extremely good or extremely bad parenting skills in encouraging him to get stuck in … whichever it was definitely extreme. Just under an hour later and he was back safe and sound after completing two laps of the course. That's my boy!

In the meantime Adam had signed up for the Sweat Monster’s Academy but he was going to need convincing that he hadn’t been fobbed off with a second rate option for little kids. Judging by his demeanour at the end of the session they did a really good job! It was an added bonus to find out that all his hard work paid off with a well earned third place.

The Sweat Monster's Academy started with a skills session, which was a sort of obstacle course on a bike. There were cones to cycle in and out of, a bottle to pick up and put down while on the go and even a limbo pole to cycle under. After plenty of coaching and practice everyone did a timed lap of the circuit with seconds added on for cones missed, bottles dropped etc. Then after a short break everyone reconvened at the bike park for the race session. Again there was plenty of instruction and advice before the flag was dropped and it was every boy and girl for himself as they battled it out to see who could do the most laps in 15minutes. There was some serious effort being put in as the number of laps mounted and kids refused to back down on the pace they had set for themselves. Then when the dust had settled there were free t-shirts all round for everyone who had taken part. It is not an easy task to provide an enjoyable yet challenging mountain biking session for such a large group of kids with such a wide range of ages and abilities but the Sweat Monster’s Academy did a first rate job. Very impressive.

So by midday the kids were done and dusted and we had a couple of hours to kill before my race was due to start at 2pm. The sensible option would have been to take in the atmosphere, watch the elite riders doing their thing and generally chill. However, being a mother I decided there was just enough time to make a quick trip to Whitby and back so that son number one could attend a school production dress rehearsal between 1 and 5 pm. Of course I forgot to take into account the weekend traffic and so arrive back at Dalby with only a few minutes to go before my race started. The women vets opted for 3 laps of the course and not having had chance to do a practice lap I struggled on the first one. Earlier in the day I’d been chatting to a mate who was also cycling and she had talked of a particular slab of rock she was having trouble getting her head round. It was one of those short, sharp verticals that needed total commitment as you didn’t want to find yourself just short of the top and going backwards out of control. Coming round a corner I realised I was on the approach to said obstacle and promptly bottled it, re-routing up the side before being upended onto the slab itself. This was a tad embarrassing given there were plenty of on lookers - still if I was worried about looking silly I'd never get on my bike!

First lap done I got into the groove, the competition was long gone but I got stuck in and as the say 'the more you put in the more you get out'. Finishing just under two hours later I felt like a winner regardless. The support round the course from onlookers and other competitors alike made it impossible not to keep turning those pedals. This is just one of the best places in the UK to race and there is another chance coming up soon as part of the British Mountain Biking Series the first weekend in July. As for the Nutcracker Series, Swaledale on the 22 August 2010 should be earmarked in your diary.