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!!!
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