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.