Bikepacking tour of the N Y Moors

Before the Dales/Kielder/Cheviot trip, we had what we thought would be our last training session for the Scottish C2C (now postponed until August), over the late May bank holiday weekend.  My blog posts are all out of synch now, as is my memory, so the following is likely to be a bit scrappy.  Will you notice any difference from normal, I wonder?

The plan was to leave the car in Rosedale Abbey on the NY Moors and cycle to Robin Hoods Bay on the Saturday, Dalby Forest on the Sunday and return to Rosedale Abbey on the Monday.  This measured up at around 65 miles in total, although (spoiler alert) I'd measured it short.

It was throwing all modes of wet stuff out of the skies on the Friday, so we stayed in Sheffield that night and set off for Rosedale Abbey early on Saturday morning.  As I found last year in Thornton-le-Dale, the NYM National Park authority don't allow overnight parking in their car parks, so we left the car by the village green. 

Day1: Rosedale Abbey to Fylingthorpe

Apart from the road south, all roads out of Rosedale Abbey are steep and the day started with a bit of a push.  Well quite a lot of a push actually.  But the previous day's rainclouds had cleared, to be replaced by blues skies and a light breeze and as we gasped for breath, we took in the views across Rosedale, towards our camp site from last month's visit.

The west side of Rosedale from the top of the hill

There was a few miles of road work to begin the day but at that time in the morning we saw very few cars or people, except for a Lyke Wake support team on Hamer Moor.  Eventually the tarmac was replaced by a Landrover track down the length of Glaisdale Rigg, dropping 500' into the pretty village of Glaisdale, where we took an especially devious shortcut down a stupidly steep and narrow lane, urged on by our trailers and brakes squealing with the pain.  Passing under the NYM Railway, we came upon an old packhorse bridge, which appears to have an interesting back story. 

The Beggars Bridge over the River Esk

According to Wikipedia, "At the eastern edge of the village lies Beggar's Bridge, built by Thomas Ferris in 1619. Ferris was a poor man who hoped to wed the daughter of a wealthy local squire. In order to win her hand, he planned to set sail from Whitby to make his fortune. On the night that he left, the [River] Esk was swollen with rainfall and he was unable to make a last visit to his intended. He eventually returned from his travels a rich man and, after marrying the squire's daughter, built Beggar's Bridge so that no other lovers would be separated as they were."

Just across the river is Limber Hill, which is oh so steep and gave rise to our second push of the day.  From there the riding was more sedate and after stopping in at one of the two pubs in Egton for a coffee, we made our way to Whitby.  Here we spent some time failing to find a cash machine that worked or the start of the Cinder Track, the route of the old Whitby - Scarborough line and now a 21 mile cycle route (it always was 21 miles long - it's just that now it's a cycle route.)  Eventually, we found the station and a very helpful chap there drew me a map.  Since then I have found a perfectly adequate description in one of the Moor To Sea route cards, which just goes to show I should have listened to my Dad more, who would frequently say, "If all else fails, read the handbook".  This of course has been superseded by the more pithy acronym, RTFM.

Start of the Cinder Track in Whitby - Where will it take us?

We pootled along the Cinder Track until we reached Trailways at Hawsker and called in for a brew.  Sadly, due to the actions of the NYM Park Authority (apparently), they were not able to serve hot drinks and we settled for an orange juice, which was fine as it was now unexpectedly sunny and hot.  I hope they can sort this out though because it is an excellent little enterprise and an ideal spot for a tea/coffee stop.

The final section of the day, took us through Robin Hoods Bay, throbbing with fractious children and parents coming back from the beach, and down to Middlewood Farm campsite at Fylingthorpe, whose back gate lies on the Cinder Track and where we put up the tents (very quickly)...



...and made a brew.

Stats of the day: 25 miles and 2,500' of up (not all pushed!)

Day 2: Fylingthorpe to Dalby

When I camped here last August, I discovered (but only after I'd had breakfast) that the campsite has a burger van that sells bacon buttiesand coffee in the morning. So fortified by one of each, we took on the 4 mile climb to Ravenscar.  The smell of coconut was overwhelming from the banks of gorse on either side of the trail.  Beyond Ravenscar, this was replaced by equally strong scents of wild garlic.  The track gets a bit rutted in places but we made rapid progress as far as Cloughton, where we sat in the beautifully tended back garden of the old station house and sampled some disappointingly dry cake and an indifferent cuppa.

The Station House, Cloughton

We left the Cinder Track at Scalby and rode on quiet roads through the leafy suburbs of Scarborough before heading into Raincliffe Woods.  We had a bit of bother locating the way into here and I was close to saying, "Oh let's just continue to Hackness on the road".  In fact I may have even said those very words.  But despite the extra bit of hill climb/push, it was worth the effort and made for a very pleasant ride through quiet, shady woodland on wide tracks

Raincliffe Woods 

And we bumped us into this character. 
.

Head in Raincliffe Woods

I do love 'big art' in wood, especially when you come across it in unexpected places.  Raincliffe Woods are also on a section of Moor to Sea, by the way.

The push up the road into Wykeham Forest was bloody desperate and very hot work.  I was expecting this to be the same push that I'd done last August bank holiday up to Highwood Brow but it turned out that that one was a bit further down the road.  They are both equally evil to do with a trailer.  This one is longer.

The signage of the Moor to Sea route from here across to Dalby Forest still ranges from inadequate to non-existent at all the critical junctions and gates, as it was last August, despite what I took to be positive responses from the Park Authority about this and other issues I reported after that trip.  In fact I'm leaning to the view that nothing  has changed other than the removal from the website, of the page which stated the network of routes was suitable for families.  I can feel another email coming on.

I'm starting to recognise parts of Dalby (the Great) Forest now and it was easy enough to locate the campsite at High Rigg Farm, which is an absolute gem of a place, hidden away and not marked on the map and which I'd only learnt about through some speculative googling.  We were given a very nice piece of flat grass away from the rest of the campers but next to one of the farm's two roosters who likes to call across to his mate on the other side of the farm, very loudly and at unsociable times of the day.

'Foghorn Leghorn' at High Rigg Farm, Dalby

It had just turned three in the afternoon and we thought we would ride down to the café at Low Dalby to pick up a cold drink and an ice cream.  It took hardly any time at all to drop the 400' to the café where the only cold drinks available were overly large bottles of sugary, fizzy stuff.  I never understand why places like this, which I assume are set up to encourage people to be active and healthy, only offer food and drink laden with sugars and fats.  It's the same in many of the hospitals I visit.

We rode back to the campsite along a few sections of the red grade trail, which we'd done at New Near when it was nithering.  This was much more enjoyable, as was cycling without the weight of the a trailer on the back.

Stats for the day: 33 miles and about 2800' of ascent

Day 3: Dalby to Rosedale Abbey

The day started with a couple of delicious bacon butties in fresh home cook rolls, assembled by the lady who runs the camp site.  This place just gets better and better and has absolutely got to be the place to stay if you want a weekend of tearing up the trails in Dalby.

Forest tracks and quiet roads led us north and east past Blakey Topping.  Legend has it that a giant who was cross with his wife, scooped out a handful of earth, creating the Hole of Horcum and threw it at her.  Either he was rubbish at throwing or the wind caught it because he missed and where it landed became Blakey Topping.  This is of course quite ridiculous.  You've only got to compare the volumes to see that the hole is much bigger than the hill. 

Blakey Topping

We took our lives in our hands crossing the Pickering - Whitby road, dodging the Bank Holiday Monday traffic, and then had a totally fabulous ride over Levisham Moor

Looking back along our route across Levisham Moor

There are two ways down to Levisham Station.  The direct route, which we did in late 2011, has a descent which isn't suitable for doing with the trailers.  The alternative is to drop 50m in height into Levisham Village and then climb up 40m out again.  Well, the map says it is only 40m but it felt much more.  This however is followed by a screaming descent down a 1 in 5 hill to the station.  I filmed it with the GoPro.  Note the hairy coos on the road just before the battery ran out. Oh and the music is Ska Cubano - just because I felt like it.

Descent to Levisham Station

After all that speed we were in need of tea and cake and as we sat by the side of the platform, we noted a degree of excited anticipation in the air, which was followed by Sir Nigel Gresley pulling into the station.  Not the man you understand - he's been dead a while - but his eponymous A4 Pacific.  Disappointingly, it was done out in its British Railways livery, which is almost the same as the original LNER one but with the number 60007 not the original 4498 (and you never suspected I was a train nerd, did you?).  In a scene pregnant with nostalgia and temps perdu, I took a lot of pictures and put on the new green Rab soft-shell (pictured earlier in the tent video), which was the closest thing I had to an anorak.

A4 Pacific, Sir Nigel Gresley

 

 

Sir Nigel Gresley pulling out of Levisham Station

 

The road beyond the level crossing said it was closed to all traffic but we assumed that just mean cars and went along it anyway.  The plan had been to grind our way up into the northern end of Cropton Forest by a long tedious hill that climbs out of Newtondale and which we had ridden previously without trailers.  However, not far after the level crossing I spotted a Moor to Sea sign pointing into the trees and from a quick inspection, it looked do-able.  So we did it.  This was probably a mistake as we'd landed ourselves with an horrendous push up what became a stupidly steep and narrow gulley with a loose stony floor.  It was fortunate we didn't meet anyone coming down it.

Near the top of the Moor to Sea 'gulley' route out of Newtondale

All that pushing had soon used up the cake calories and we paused for an energy fix of tuna and Jelly Babies before continuing by back lanes into Cropton Forest, where for a change it wasn't cold and raining (but then it wasn't January either.)  We considered calling in at High Muffles for a viewing.  It's for sale and gorgeous and far enough from other human beings to suit the curmudgeonly old git I'm becoming but close enough to a road to still get Ocado deliveries.  It's also very expensive.  So to mange our disappointment at not being able to afford it, we rode on by, via yet another Moor to Sea short cut, to Low Muffles.  This isn't for sale, as far as I know, and in any case doesn't have the same sought after location as its namesake up the hill. Beyond it, the track nosedives into a compact, shady, tree covered valley, which to escape from required another push up six of those pesky contours.  At the top of the climb we met a family of cyclists from West Yorkshire in matching cycling club shirts.  We chatted to them for a while about bike frames and trailers and campsites and cycle to work schemes and eventually ran out of things to talk about and went our separate ways. 

From here it was roads back to Rosedale Abbey.  The car was where we had left it by the village green, which had been taken over by the most miserable (Hilary says I should say 'understated') 'fete' I have ever seen: a few tables selling bric a brac, sweets and cakes and a band comprising 4 or 5 asthmatic horn players and an arthritic drummer, all in their eighties.  Full marks for effort and determination but really someone needs to tell them that their gigging days are over.  The music lacked any power and pace but I suspect that was because none of them could afford to raise their blood pressure.  A car parked next to them displayed a bumper sticking saying 'Keep Music Live'.  I hope this was an intentional piece of irony but in any case keeping the musicians alive seem the over-riding priority at that moment.  All this seems uncharitable, given that we had just parked on their village lawn all weekend, although that wouldn't have been necessary if the National Park Authority had allowed overnight parking in its otherwise empty car park.

We packed up the bikes and trailers and headed for the tea shop farthest away from the band, where we consumed pasties and tea before driving home.

Stats for the day: 25miles and about 2100' of ascent

Postscript

At the end of the weekend, we felt we were ready for Scotland.  Now that we weren't doing the Corrieyairack anymore, none of the hills on the route will be as fearsome as the ones we'd met on the Moors and the daily distances of 25-30 miles seem achievable unless the terrain gets very rough or we encounter any tricky river crossings, which may happen in Glens Roy and Feshie if there has been some rain.  The current plan is to go up sometime in August now, which isn't ideal in terms of either midgies or longest days or family holidaymakers but is the best we can do without moving it to next year.  And we've go other plans for 2014...


The cumulative stats

Total distance: about 83 miles
Total Ascent: about 7,500'
Number of hill pushes: 6 (least said about that the better)
Tea shops stops: 6 (2 per day, which I consider to be an optimum number)
Highland Cattle: one small herd
Trees: too many to count
Raindrops: 0 (woohoo)
Moor to Sea signage/route grumbles: somewhere between 5 and 10

Scotland C2C Training on NY Moors - Day 2

It was a cold night but our camp was both extremely comfortable and peaceful.  We were packed up and away by 9.15, having decided to make a short day of it rather than lengthen the route with either a lot of road work or a rather contrived loop around Slape Wath Moor.  It also meant that we could go down the Incline.

So we turned north and rode along the old trackbed to the road running along Blakey Rigg.  Then crossing over the road, we followed the continuation round the head of Farndale.

By the track across the moors to the Lion Inn, Blakey

The day was greyer and colder than on Saturday and we were both wearing an additional layer to keep the wind out.  At that time of a Sunday morning, there was nobody about and it felt like we had the whole of the moor to ourselves.

Looking into Westerdale

We took a brief photo stop where the track crossed the path which runs between Farndale to Westerdale before riding on to Bloworth Crossing.  As I rode along, a pipit flew ahead of me, landing on the ground in front and then darting forward again as I caught up with it. It reminded me of swifts in Borneo flying in front of the dugout as we went back along the river to camp in the late afternoon after surveying trips in Simon's Cave.  I was brought out of my reverie by a grouse which appeared out of the heather, flew across my path and almost brushed my nose with its wing tip.  I've never experienced a bird strike whilst on a bike.

And so we arrived back at the top of the Incline and with a final check of the brakes, threw ourselves headlond down the slope.  It felt a bit like skiing, where it's sometimes best just to go for it rather than dither around at the top worrying about where to get in the first turn.  It's not the most interesting bit of downhill.  There is nothing technical on it - no rocks or ruts or gullies to speak of.  The views are good at the top.  Otherwsie, it was just a case of pointing straight down the hill and hope the brakes wouldn't overheat too much with the extra momentum from the trailer.   

Hurtling down the Ingleby Incline

Back at the gate

And from the bottom we just retraced our outward route back to Great Broughton, where we had left the car.

We rode 15 miles on the Sunday with not much ascent, making a total of 40 miles for the weekend.  I'd hoped we would do a bit more than that but I was feeling pretty tired after the first day and Hilary wasn't arguing to go on any further.  She'd given the new bike a good first run and we'd both re-aquainted ourselves with riding with a trailer, identified a few things we need to sort out and had a good couple of days.

We decided a couple of weeks ago, to put back the Scottish ride until early June, to give the upper sections of the Corryairick a bit longer to clear of snow.  We've had enough mountain biking in snow for the year, on out Easter trip to the Vosges - blog posts coming soon(!) and neither of us fancy dragging a trailer through the white stuff.  This means that we can now use the last May bank holiday weekend for another training trip with trailers and for that, we have planned a 2-3 day, 50 mile circuit in Galloway Forest

 

 

Postscript:  There's a video of the full descent of the Ingleby Incline here

 

 

 



Scotland C2C Training on the NY Moors - Day 1

So Hilary collected her new custom hardtail from Eighteen last Thursday and we decided to test it and the BoB trailers with a two day ride round the Nork Yorks Moors.  Our route was to set out from the campsite in Great Broughton, ride the back lanes through Ingleby Greenhow and up the Ingleby Incline to the old North Eastern railway line which carried iron ore from Rosedale.  It finally closed in 1926.  There's some history about the Incline along with some old photos here.  The section from Bloworth Crossing east to Blakey Ridge is most notable as being the boring but fast bit of the Lyke Wake Walk you do through the night, unless you're perverse and do an east-west crossing, in which case you probably get to see it in daylight.  However, from Bloworth we would head south down Rudland Rigg, which separates Farndale and Bransdale and offers panoramic vistas into and across both.  We would then turn east on lanes and farm tracks to Hutton-le Hole and Lastingham before heading north onto another LRT to Ana Cross and Rosedale Chimney, with a wild camp somewhere on the southern end of the same disused railway track above Rosedale.  Sunday had a choice of routes depending on weather and how we felt.

The previous week I was doing a bit of research on the web, when I found a potential problem.  I rang Hilary.

I've just found out that the Ingleby Incline is 1 in 5 for almost a mile

Oh, that sounds bad

It's ok though. I've found a zigzag route up through the forest which leads to the top

Phew!

We left the campsite at about 9.45, having had to faff with assembling trailers and some last minute decisions about gear to take, which probably added a kilo or two.  The ride to Ingleby Greenhow gave a splendid view of the Captain Cook memorial on Easby Moor and Roseberry Topping

Roseberry Topping

I'm still experimenting with the GoPro for the Scottish ride and mounted it under the saddle to get a view of the BoB trailer. The rear mud catcher gets in the way, so this kind of shot will only be possible when it's not wet or muddy.

 

 

Riding the lanes to Ingleby Greenhow

We cycled past the end of the bridleway to the Incline and straight on up a steepening track past a farm. As the farmer was there, I bid him a cheery good morning and asked

Is this the way into the forest?

It is but you'd be better off going up that way, pointing to the bridleway behind us leading up to the Ingleby Incline, especially with those trailers.  There are big rocks this way, and he made a kind of 'yeah big' gesture, the dimensions of which didn't look compatible with a BoB.

But the Incline is 1 in 5, I said, a slight whimper in my voice breaking through

It is, he said.  You're in for some pushing, he said,  But it will still be easier than going the other way.  I can just get to the first gate with my daughter on the trailer bike, he said

It turned out he was a keen cyclist, on and off road and he and Hilary exchanged coast to coast stories.  Then we got onto subject of the Moor To Sea trails and he mentioned that the Ingleby Incline was part of a new section they'd just established as another route to Dalby but the route wasn't shown on the website.  So having satisfied us with his credentials (!) we came to terms with the reality that the only way up was via the Incline.  We didn't make the first gate before we had to push but a BoB with camping gear is heavier than trail-a-bike with a daughter - it's a well known fact.

Ingleby Incline - the 'easy bit' below the gate.

The push below the gate was just the warm up for the main event.  It seems churlish to wish the sun hadn't been out but it was hot work.  I managed to ride a few 50yd sections but in the end just accepted defeat and as I shoved bike and BoB up the hill I passed the time trying to recall if anywhere along the Corryairick Pass was this steep.

Ingleby Incline - the 1 in 5 for almost a mile section

 

Ingleby Incline - the final push to the top

But we were rewarded by the views from the top

Hasty Bank from top of Ingleby Incline

Once we'd got our breath back, that is

Top of Ingleby Incline

With that behind us, we rode the short distance to Bloworth Crossing on dry tracks with the sun on our heads.

Bloworth Crossing

 

Rudland Rigg is essentially a long straight track running for just over 6 miles to the southern end of the moors, along a spine left over when glaciers carved out Farndale and Bransdale.  The surface of the LRT has improved at lot since we last rode it 18 months ago; the huge lakes have all been filled in for a start.  There still seems to be more uphill than the contours on the 1:50k would have you believe but it's easy riding and you can let your thoughts roam freely while soaking up the tranquillity of wild moorland, the silence broken only by the occasional call of the curlew, a dirt bike and a convoy of 4x4s.

Easy riding over the Moors

We had a brief stop along here to re-attach the back wheel on Hilary's bike.  It had come adrift when the special quick release for the BoB, which has lugs by which to attach the trailer, had worked loose. Although the BoB skewer is better made than the ones which came with the original trailers we bought off eBay last year, it's still the weak part in the whole design, in my opinion. It was a faff to get the wheel back in because the brake pads needed to be forced apart to re-insert the disk rotor.  We've started to build up a comprehensive set of tools and spares for Scotland and this episode re-affirmed the need to make sure we have enough tools, parts and skills to fix anything that can reasonably be fixed on the trail.  With the wheel back in place, I made sure the quick release was wellied down tightly and it was no further problem for the rest of the weekend.

The two miles of descent from the high point on Rudland Rigg down to the road afforded just enough of a technical challenge to practice avoiding rocks and drop offs with the trailer.

After a short road section, a bridleway and a brutal hill climb, we rolled into Hutton-le-Hole, a pretty village that offers a choice of places to stop for refreshment.  We called into the Forge Tea Rooms, which was staffed by a couple of Essex girls who plied us with tea and cake and filled up our water bottles.  Where we were intending to wild camp seemed a bit devoid of water sources, so I got the platypus filled up as well, giving me around 3kgs of extra ballast for the climb up to Ana Cross.  It's good to have a challenge.

Leaving H-le-H, we continued east to Lastingham where an LRT over Spaunton Moor heads north.  This was busy with walkers and although the climb is sustained (aka relentless), it can all be ridden towing the BoB, though we did pause for a jelly baby induced sugar rush on the way.

The track over Spaunton Moor to Ana Cross

Further J-Bs were consumed at Ana Cross along with a protein fix of cheese, chorizo and tuna, and I made a failed attempt to tweet this picture.

Ana Cross

The afternoon was wearing on and we'd done about 20 miles to this point.  I had a target of 25-27 miles in mind to put us somewhere on the disused railway above Rosedale for the night.  We pressed on northwards.  Beyond Rosedale Chimney Bank, where the road comes up a 1 in 3 out of Rosedale Abbey, we encountered very few people - a group of walkers, a runner and a couple of mountain bikers.  This was good because I wasn't really sure if we should be wild camping up here.  We reached a suitable spot, well it was idyllic actually, just after 4pm and laid out on the grass for an hour in the sun, when we thought it would be pretty safe to get the tents up.  Hilary found a stagnant pond with some water in, which she filtered in her Travel Tap, so I probably hadn't needed to carry the ballast but better that than going thirsty for the night.

There is an especially ugly fence here, which I'd noticed on a previous ride and when I went to investigate, I found it was surrounding a rather large deep hole in the ground from which emanated the sound of running water.  I couldn't find anything to throw down it to gauge the depth but I guessed it was at least 50ft.  Some Googling when I got back home came up with Sheriff's Pit, 270ft deep.  This was an old ironstone mine and at the base of the shaft, a horizontal drift driven along an ironstone outcrop, extends 1500ft to emerge out of the valley side.  There's a picture of the winding gear and buildings taken in 1911, the year it closed, along with some more history about the ironworks and railway here.

Wild camp above Rosedale

 

Part 2 to follow.

Distance: 24 miles
Ascent: 2750 ft

 

 

North York Moors: Moor to Sea Cycle Network

It was August Bank Holiday weekend and Hilary had gone off to cycle the Way of the Roses, 166 miles from Morecambe to Brid, with her elder son.  So, as a change from the Gaping Gill Winch Meet with the CPC, I decided to take the bike and the BoB trailer up to the NY Moors to ride a few stages of the Moor to Sea trails and fit in 1 or 2 nights of wild camping. 

The Moor to Sea Cycle Network was established a few years ago by the NYM National Park and comprises 11 stages of between 8 and 19 miles in length.  It runs along forest tracks, disused railway tracks, minor roads and bridleways, the latter of which can either be an immense pleasure or a gnarly, frustrating bother to ride. 

I set out from Sheffield early on the Saturday morning and as I drove through a heavy rainstorm past York, I began to doubt the wisdom of this project and came close to turning the car round.  Perhaps a weekend at home would be a sensible after all - I had a ton of jobs to do.  But sensible is deadly dull and in any case, the further east I got, the more the weather improved and by the time I reached Pickering, it was bright and sunny. 

Pickering to Langdale End (starting from Thornton-le-Dale)
The start of my Saturday route was the Pickering to Langdale End stage of the Moor to Sea but to cut out 2 miles of back roads, I decided to start from Thornton-Le-Dale.  This is a pleasant village nestling under the southern edge of the Moors and spoilt by having the A170 to Scarborough cut through it.  On the main street is a garage which has a small museum of vintage and classic cars and other motoring memorabilia (and if some of these haven't appeared in Heartbeat, you can call me Pennine Ranger).  An old charabanc was waiting at the bus stop and the spontaneous explosion of one of its tyres provided a few moments of confusion and excitement.

I called in at the cafe on the main road and ordered what turned out to be the most enormous breakfast (and that was after declining the eggs).  The National Park's car park didn't allow overnight parking, which was both a surprise and annoyance, so I asked in the cafe if there was anywhere I could leave the car overnight and was pointed in the direction of the lane up near the cemetery.

I'd had to dismantle the bike and trailer to pack them in the back of the car, so after a load of faffing around reassembling everything, it was getting towards 11 before I actually set off.  I'd barely left the car out of sight before the bike's rear suspension started creaking in the sort of way which says, "you better not ignore me, chap" and looking down, I noticed a lot of sideways play in the bottom pivot.  Towing a trailer full of camping gear perhaps isn't good for a full suss bike.  I spent 15 minutes doing some fettling, relieved that my emergency toolkit had the right sized Allan keys for the job, and set off again.  Take 2...

From almost everywhere round the edge it is a steep pull up onto the moors proper. The road out of the village, past the church, was no exception.  It usually takes me a couple of miles before my heart and lungs get used to the idea that they will have to do some work and I generally prefer to go through this pain barrier out of the public gaze.  Being bank holiday weekend, the lane was full of families milling around.  By the time the road up Thornton Dale had levelled out and I'd started to get my breathing under control, I'd left everyone behind.  Pride is a cruel mistress, as is age, though having two mistresses ought to be every old bloke's dream.  At the top of Thornton Dale is Low Dalby, home to the visitor centre and start of the extensive Dalby Forest bike trails.  Hilary and I had cycled around half of the 23 mile red route on new year's day 2012.

After the breakfast I'd scoffed in the village, the Dalby cafe offered no temptation and in any case, all I really wanted to do was get away from the crowds and up onto the high moors.  I had another stop to re-adjust the main suspension axle, after which I picked up the road leading to Langdale End, past the amusingly named Jerry Noddle and a somewhat incongruous collection of crosses in trees and buildings which belonged to a Coptic Christian retreat.  The NY Moors has, over the centuries, been home to a number of religious orders whose abbeys, most notably Rievaulx and Byland, were destroyed during the reformation.  Ampleforth, is still standing or has been rebuilt.  I'm not sure which and Wikipedia is disappointingly uninformative on the subject.  The Coptic Christians are an interesting bunch and I'm not sure how they ended up here, but of the 18 million of them, only 14 million live in Egypt, which I suppose leaves enough for a few to rock up in an isolated valley, in an often cold and wet, north-east corner of Yorkshire and pursue a monastic lifestyle in the manner of earlier generations.

Langdale End to Whitby (as far as Sneaton Low Moor, then road to Middlewood Farm camp site at Fylingthorpe)

Just before the village of Langdale End, I took the road north, which led into Langdale Forest.  Sorry, I have no pictures of this but just imagine your typical coniferous forest and you'll be right. I was now on the Langdale End to Whitby stage of the Moor to Sea.  The track through Langdale Forest goes past the hamlet of Langdale End but this is different to the eponymous village back down the hill and I imagine confuses the hell out of the Ocado delivery man. 

When I was a boy, we used to drive out to Langdale End sometimes during holidays up in Scarborough, where my grandparents had a big house on the cliff top in the South Bay.  I never knew why we used to go there - I think my Granny must have known someone.  She seemed to know a lot of people. She came from Bishop Wilton, on the Wolds above the Vale of York, and is buried there and there used to be a lot of her side of the family scattered across the East Riding.  She had quite a presence, always liked to make an impression (think Hyacinth Bucket) and enjoyed entertaining and visiting folk. But I'm going off topic...

There had been a car rally in the forest just prior to my visit and there was a sign saying that the tracks were being repaired.  These repairs looked like they'd been done by the local council highways people and took the form of filling up holes in the dirt track with tarmacadam, which looked completely out of place and would most likely break up after a few weeks.  A few other things about the Moor to Sea that were starting to bug me.  The signage, whilst being quite frequent and at all the important junctions, was very hard to spot.  When the branding for the route was designed, someone had decided it was a good idea to use pastel shades of green and blue, presumably to reflect the colours of the heather moorlands and the North Sea.  These discs were mounted on metre high wooden  posts, often with direction arrows carved into at them and painted white.  After a few years in the sun, thee discs and arrows had faded and become almost invisible from more than a few yards away.  Quite a lot of the posts were hidden by undergrowth.

Faded Moor To Sea signpost

The trail through Langdale Forest passes some places on the map with intriguing names such as Little Grain Noddle and the High and Low Woof Howes.  I've already mentioned Little Grain's elder brother, Jerry, and there is also Noddle End Windy Pit.  But windy pits are a whole other topic for another time.  The whole place has a sense of being very, very old.  That howes are old Norse for burial mounds is well known but I'm not sure about the meaning or origins of noddle and Wikipedia has once again been of little assistance.

 After a long but gradual climb, the track breaks out of the trees onto Fylingdales Moor, in sight of the early warning station.  When I was a boy coming up here, this was of course the site of the three "golf balls" that was supposed to give the country a four minute warning of nuclear missile attack from Russia.  I remember taking a picture of these on my Kodak Brownie and when the prints came back from the chemist, the one of the golf balls was missing, along with the negative.  How conspiracy theory is that?  This would be around 1963. 

RAF Fylingdales as it is now

The golf balls have since been replaced by a kind of pyramid affair, which whilst being no less unobtrusive  doesn't have the same iconic feel.  Up on the hill, looking down on the pyramid, is Lilla Cross, or the cross on Lilla Howe, and is said to the the oldest Christian monument on the Moors.  It marks the grave of Lilla, who saved the life of King Edwin of Northumbria in 625 AD.  I've passed it a few times on the Lyke Wake Walk and remember sitting in a tea tent on the moor here in the early hours of a Sunday morning in 1978 (?), completely buggered and with another 15 or so miles of the 54 mile Crosses Walk still to complete.  I love this place on the moors but it always seems to be cold, even on a sunny day, and I was in no mind to make the short detour to stand by Lilla on this occasion.

From Louven Howe, it's pretty much downhill through the forest on Sneaton High Moor to Old May Beck.  I passed a drilling site on the north side of the forest, which I have a feeling might be associated with exploration for potential fracking sites.  At the car park by Falling Foss, I stopped for a protein and carb and sugar fix and looked at the map.  I had made a reservation on a camp site a couple of miles up the road but when I'd rung up she had apologised that there were no hot showers.  Right now, I really wanted to get clean and warm and decided to take the risk and head for the site at Fylingthorpe, which I'd stayed at a few times before.  I would also get me a few miles further on.  This meant cycling a short distance on the A171 Whitby-Scarborough road, which is always busy.  The light levels were down and it was misty, so I switched on the bike and trailer lights, plus the one on my hat and back of my jacket.  I wanted those cars drivers to see me before they ran me off the road.

The descent into Fylingthorpe has a couple of single arrows on the 1:50,000 and with the trailer behind me, the brakes on the bike had to work hard to keep the speed down to something controllable.  The camp site was busy but they found me a patch of grass and I had the Akto up in no time and was lying inside polishing off the snacks I'd not found time to eat during the day.  The shower hit the spot as did the freeze dried.  I didn't know until the next morning that there was a van on the site selling burgers and chips and the like.  Doh!

 It rained heavily from about 8pm that evening throughout the night but had stopped by the time I got up around 7 the next morning.  I'd left the big yellow bag (or BYB) outside the tent and obviously hadn't closed it up well enough, as it had a small pool of water inside it.  It's so much better than a rucksack for packing gear into.  You can just open it up and lob gear into it.  You don't have to worry about packing it for comfort, althogh it is a good idea to leave the waterproofs and bike spares at the top.

Whitby to Ravenscar (from Fylingthorpe)

I was away before 10.  The Whitby to Ravenscar stage runs just behind the camp site.  It's 700' of  climb over 4 miles up to Ravenscar, so it's a reasonable gradient to tackle with the trailer, as it should be, being part of the old Whitby - Scarborough railway.  The views out across the North Sea reminded me of childhood holidays in Scarborough, where my grandparents had a house looking over the South Bay and the happy times watching the boats and more excitingly, the electrical storms as night with great forks of lightening piercing the blackness of the water.

Looking towards Robin Hoods Bay from near Ravenscar on the Moor to Sea

I stopped for a coffee at the NY Moors Information Centre at the top of the track - worthy of mention only because I spent a few moments searching the coffee machine for a slot to insert my 60p in coins before asking the chap behind the counter.  "You give them to me and I give you a cup."  Now is it just me, or is that weird?  I took my coffee outside to avoid further embarrassment.

Ravenscar to Highwood Brow

The next stage of the route follows the road out of the village, the endless one you trudge down at the end of the Lyke Wake Walk, and dives of onto a green lane, which starts out as a pleasant, firm track before turning through 90 degrees to become a morass of deeps ruts and lakes.

Moor to Sea: Green lane between Moorland House and Smugglers Rock Guest House

Granted, there had been a lot of water falling out of the sky the previous night but this had the appearance of having been around for a while and in places smelled like a stagnant ditch.

Moor to Sea: Green lane out of Ravenscar looking south-east

The morass continued for about half a mile and I managed to submerge most of the BoB and BYB a couple of times.  You can plough through water up to a certain depth beyond which the back force from the bow wave brings one to an abrupt stop - and very wet feet.  I just had to hope that I'd made a good job of closing up the BYB before I set off.

Back at the end of the summer, when I did this ride, the Introduction on the Moor to Sea website said,  "The route has been developed to be suitable for family cycling".  I know this because I quoted it in an email I sent to the NY Moors National Park, which I've just looked back at.  And I've just been back to the website and it no longer says this. This is interesting but like a good Scandinavian detective novel, you'll have to hang in there while this plot unfolds (though I'll tell you now that nobody dies).  Suffice to say at this stage, I was starting to feel a bit of a rant coming one.

Things picked up after this section though and I was soon back on good forest trails going through Harwood Dale where, distracted by some walkers warning me to look out for their dog, which was lost in the heather, I missed one of the hard to spot signposts and went a short distance down the wrong track.  It soon became increasingly difficult to cycle, especially with BoB, and the GPS confirmed the cock up.  Of course it meant a push back up the hill. There was another short road push up onto Surgate Brow - I sort of lost the interest in trying to cycle it - before picking up a pretty, tree lined bridleway, following the northern edge of Broxa forest.  At least, it started out pretty but fairly quickly turned into another section of ruts and lakes, this time decorated with pond weed, so also not likely to be just the result of the previous night's rain.

Moor to Sea: bridleway after Surgate Brow, edge of Broxa Forest

Moor to Sea: the same bridleway in Broxa Forest looking in the other direction

Another half kilometre of pushing, paddling, pedalling and grumbling ensued before reaching and crossing the road onto a better forest track and then rejoining the road down to Langdale End.  That's the first Langdale End not the second.  Still no sight of the Ocado van.

There was a short flattish section of road before the contours bunched up to a topological feature known as Highwood Brow.  Before tackling that, I took the opportunity of stopping on a grassy verge and lying back in the sunshine for a few minutes. 

Moor to Sea: Looking across to Wykeham Forest

The bike and I were looking distinctly muddy by now.  I took a photo of my mud spattered legs for the record but in deference to the sensibilities of you, dear reader, I have refrained from including it here.  I basked in the sunshine and considered the contrast between my appearance and the images on the route card for this stage, which showed clean people on shiny bikes that looked like they had just come straight from a Halfords showroom.  I mused over scenes of families setting out for a pleasant Sunday bike ride and the day dissolving into a tense affair as children got their feet wet and their clothes muddy and dark words were uttered about whose stupid idea it was to come here rather than go to the beach at Scarborough, "...LIKE I'D SUGGESTED."

There seemed to be a discrepancy between the advertising and what was on the ground.   On the one hand the marketing appeared to be saying, "look, anyone can do these rides", whilst the terrain suggested that was far from the case. Worse still, nobody appeared to be riding the stages at all. Across the whole weekend, other than around the Dalby trails, I only saw two other pairs of mountain bikers.  This seemed a real pity because actually it's a great concept, which appeared to be spoilt in a few places by lack of upkeep, as if maybe it was put together with some initial capital funding but with no provision for long term sustainability.  It shouldn't be that hard to maintain the bridleways and it would cost very little to get someone to cycle the stages periodically to check the signage, replacing the faded disks and repainting in the arrows on the marker posts.  I was starting to feel a bit of rant coming on.

My reverie over, I got back to the job in hand and pedalled off into the forest.  The track was a car's width and lined by hedges and low hanging trees, which at some point snatched the yellow pennant from the BoB.  I guess I managed half of it before the gradient induced thigh burn became too much and I started pushing.  That was only slightly easier and I was pausing every few steps and holding the bike and trailers on the brakes whilst grabbing a few lungfuls of air.  Eventually, I saw some cars stopped up ahead and topped out.  It was then that I noticed an absence of flag.  "Bother", was what I said (of course).

I stowed the bike and BoB behinds some bushes, padlocked the rear wheel and set off on foot back down the track.  I retraced half the distance without finding it and concerned that I didn't lose the hole bike decided to give up.  Just as I got back tot he top, a group of cyclists were setting off down and I asked them to keep an eye out for it and leave it by the road.  And that was where I found it when I drove back there a few hours later, planted by the M2C marker post, .  In the unlikely event those who found it are reading this: thanks, I owe you one.

There were quite a lot of mountain bikers around Highwood Brow.  I assume they had come up from Dalby, maybe looking for a longer ride.  There was another flooded section, which was at least firm and without ruts.  A woman I'd passed said that it had been like a river there, late the previous night. 

Then as I dropped out of Wykeham forest to a car park marked on the map, whilst there was clear signage for the Tabular Hills Walk,  I could see nothing for the Moor to Sea.  I asked the NY Moors ranger, who was parked there, where the track went off from for the Moor to Sea.  He seemed a bit puzzled at first before getting out his 1:25000 and tried to convince me that I'd actually missed a turn a couple of miles back up the way I'd come.  I didn't think I had but anyway.  He then proceeded to describe an alternative that would get me back on route, starting from a gate hidden in some trees across the road, which in fact was the  Moor to Sea route.  The marker post was actually a few hundred yards beyond the gate, in a place that didn't really need one.  This was another frustrating, boggy section which, he warned me, had been chewed up by trails bikers. 

After Saturday, where the tracks had all been good, I'd encountered 3 lengthy unridable sections.  I was starting to get really annoyed with this.  Today's stages weren't suitable for family riding, the signage was frequently poor or missing where it was most needed and even the Park's rangers didn't seem to know the route.

I finally hit the top end of the Dalby trails and retraced the previous day's route but somehow managed to take a wrong turn and ended up cycling back uphill for about 10 minutes before twigging that something wasn't right.  It did give an enjoyable downhill ride but one I didn't really need.  I fought my way past the crowds at Go-Ape and the smoke filled air from barbecues and pulled in at the biker's cafe.  I ordered a large mug of tea and a posh sounding cheese and ham toasty and sat in the sun.  The toasty took ages to arrive and when it did I stared at it for a while longer, almost too tired to eat.  When I did eventually bite into it, I realised this was exactly what I needed and it was gone in a flash.  I found some chocolate and a chewy bar in the bottom of my day sack and furtively ate those at the table whilst pretending to finish off what was by then an empty mug of tea.

I'd convinced myself that the last 3 miles were all downhill as topographically that made sense.  The reality was that it was flat with some bits of uphill before a final steep descent into the village.  The Cateye was showing a bit over 30 miles for the day and my legs had had enough.  Relieved to find the car where I had left it, I just had to grapple with the mud to dismantle everything and pack it into the back of the car.

Bike and trailer at end of Moor to Sea ride

The stats

Saturday: Pickering to Langdale End (starting from Thornton-le-Dale) + Langdale End to Whitby (as far as Sneaton Low Moor, then road to Middlewood Farm camp site at Fylingthorpe.)  26 miles and 2600' ascent


Sunday: Whitby to Ravenscar (starting from camp site) + Ravenscar to Highwood Brow + Highwood Brow to Pickering (as far as Thornton-le-Dale.  30 miles and 3000' ascent

Sunday was the harder day by far.  Not only was it longer but the boggy sections made the riding tougher going.

Postscript

A few days after getting home that I sent an email to the N Y Moors National Park, with a series of the comments and suggestions about the Moor to Sea.  I didn't hear anything for about a month and then I got an email promising that a more complete response was to follow, which it did a week later.  And it was a very detailed, considered and positive response, the main points of which are shown below:

1. The section from Moorland House to Smugglers Rock is an unclassified road and although North Yorkshire highways have declined to carry out any repairs, we do have an offer from them of road-planings and so we plan to lay these into the wet holes next year, perhaps not over the whole width, but certainly wide enough to be cycle-able.

2. The bridleway around the scarp edge from Surgate Brow has had a vehicle barrier erected to prevent further damage by 4WDs and we plan to re-profile this to raise the centre, create effective drainage and fill the worst of the holes this autumn.

3. We are aware of the fading discs and are replacing them as necessary. The design was chosen for its muted colours to reflect the landscape including purple heather.

4. The moor to sea route does have its waymarking checked and faults remedied as soon as possible, but the Tabular Hills Walk waymarking has just had a decadal review so as you noticed is in prime condition. We will remind our Voluntary Rangers about the Moor to Sea route.

5. You have raised a very valid point about the unavailability of overnight parking in our car parks for Moor to Sea riders. Checking our Byelaws we can give permission for overnight parking, so having discussed it with our Car Park Manager we have agreed to make information available on the Moor to Sea website so that people can ask for overnight stays.

6. We set up the Moor to Sea cycle-route with partners Scarborough Borough Council, Ryedale District Council, Forestry Commission and North Yorkshire County Council to promote cycling and cycle-routes through our iconic landscapes and purposely developed the pack so that riders can choose how little of how much of the route to tackle. We like to think that some sections offer an easy taster, but then people can chose which ones to add on to make a more challenging ride. We would very much like more people to do as you have done and make overnight trips and I hope this can feature in our future marketing. 

We have just created a new post of Promotion and Tourism Officer and have a new member of staff who is herself a keen cyclist so I am sure we will be making more of the Moor to Sea Cycle-route in future.

I found this to be really encouraging, that came away with a feeling that there were people who wanted to develop and maintain the routes.

If you are the kind of mountain biker who is only into trail centres, it will probably seem a bit tame; there's very little by way of technical challenges.  However, if you want a multi-day ride on mixed on and off road terrain, the Moor to Sea Cycle Network has a lot to offer.  We're starting to plan a 3 day trip up there in the spring, as training for the Scottish ride in May and will definitely be taking in a few more stages.

NY Moors Mountain Biking

It's always a surprise to get away for a weekend and find that not only is the weather better than forecast but it's actually fabulous.  So it was last weekend which was bookended by rain the previous week and dense fog the following.

Saturday: Swainby and Whorlton Moor

Because of work commitments, we didn't leave Sheffield until Saturday morning with three routes programmed into the GPS, all based around Osmotherley.  This is a village which nestles in a cliched kind of way under the western edge of the North York Moors.  Yellow sandstone buildings with terracotta pantiled roofs and woodsmoke rising from their chimneys, lining narrow streets full of parked cars, all contribute to the impression that this biscuit tin lid of a village is now a haven for tourists and second home owners.  I've made a few visits here in the late 70s, always at night, on my way to Sheepwash Car Park and the start of the Lyke Wake Walk.  This time we headed up a different hill to a different car park, at the curiously named 'Square Corner' below Black Hambleton, whose northern aspect is indeed dark and a little bit brooding in the Autumn light.

Black Hambleton from Square Corner

We had a choice of two routes, one from the book and one I'd made up, which looked like it might be a bit shorter and less hilly.  So we did the latter (and it turned out to be longer and more hilly).  After a short road section we got onto a mile of doubletrack heading north, which increased in gradient and technicality until finally forcing a brief walk down some rock steps (because we are lightweights and can't do jumps).  Then after spitting us out onto the road at Scarth Nick there was more, even faster descent down into Swainby.  Hmmm, I mused to myself, we seem to have lost quite a bit more height than I had envisaged.

The castle between Swainby and Whorlton

Out from Swainby, we passed Whorlton Castle (or maybe it's Swainby castle - it's a bit of an early infill between the two villages) before striking out onto a bridleway mainly comprising hostile vegetation and  glutinous mud.  Clarty is the word used in this part of the world to describe these conditions.  Pedalling just spun the back wheels deeper into the ruts and it quickly became a GOAP (Get Off And Push).  We had been warned by some locals but of course we chose to ignore them in favour of adventure, jammed chains and a puncture.  We then enjoyed a brief section of the LWW down to Huthwaite Green (enjoyable that is apart from an encounter with two large horses that left me covered in burrs and ill-tempered) before making a small navigational cock up and missing the intended bridleway through the forest, instead riding a nicely graded, firm, wide track up onto Whorlton Moor. 

At this point we hit Open Access land and a notice scratched on a metal plate, saying No Bikes.  We took this to mean motor bikes (since any alternative interpretation would have required a descent and re-ascent of a few hundred feet each way) and followed some other mountain bike tyre tracks on the LRT which thread across the moor.  The sun was starting to drop and it was getting a bit chilly but the views were expansive and the surroundings utterly silent and devoid of life save for us and a lot of grouse.

Shooting Hut on Whorlton Moor

After a brief snack stop at the Shooting House, it was an easy ride south(ish) along the continuing LRT over the moor back to Square Corner, the whole thing coming in at 13.5 miles and 1600' of uppityness

Back at Square Corner

Sunday: Black Hambleton and Hawnby

Sunday was a day of sun and this route was straight out of the book, promising lots of off road across open moorland - and that's what we got.

Starting from Square Corner again (it's such a fab name, I think I shall start all my routes from there from now on) a broad track climbs steadily over the western shoulder of Black Hambleton.

Track over Black Hambleton - looking back northwards

It's all ridable but gets a bit steep towards the top, forcing old blokes like me to have a rest (or maybe two) on the way up.  But the effort is rewarded by spledid views north and west with autumnal colours which my camera has completely failed to capture.

Looking west from top of Black Hambleton - moors, forests and fields

From here the fun just never stops, with a fast, wide track under a massive, sun-filled sky and only a couple of gates to break the momentum.

Fast riding on flat, wide tracks

If you're only into MTB technical stuff, this route probably isn't for you.  I go mountain biking as a way of moving through the landscape, off-road, to reach more remote areas more quickly and it seems to me, this is a 'must tick' ride.

Arden Great Moor - looking back along our route

At the edge of Arden Great Moor there is a confluence of routes and the feeling that a follow up visit is going to be needed to explore all of them.  On this ocassion, the book made the choice for us and after the initial climb up, we now had the promise of losing all that height - and it was just a huge amount of fun with the gradient (and speed) increasing as we dropped lower into the valley. 

The NY Moors are frequently a contrast between fun, easy riding high up on the moors and poorly maintained, muddy bridleways down in the valley, often with challenging navigation. And so it was here, starting with a GOAP up a steep muddy slope, followed by three attempts to find the gate into a wood - including finding the right wood but that was partly my fault for (mis)reading from my MemoryMap GPS instead of doing it 'Old School' and getting out the paper version and a compass from my rucksack.  It was worth the effort though and the dappled light filtering through the trees, the smells of autumnal vegitation and a brief encounter with a Roe Deer, which ran out in front of me, made up for having to dismount a push past a few boggy sections. 

There is just so much stuff to kill around here.  Apart from the deer, we saw braces of Red Partridge, pheasants and grouse and probably all the rabbits on the world.  You could easily grow fat on game pie all year round up there, unless of course you're a vegetarian in which case you might look to move to somewhere more suited to the cultivation of cereal and root crops since the bilberry season is quite brief.  Also, the farmers are all friendly and even the off-roaders on trail bikes held a gate open for us with a cheery hello - it's so difficult to maintain a grumpy old bigot stance towards these folk in the face of such friendliness - dammit.

In Hawnby, we stopped at the tea shop, which had a rather too shady tea garden and rather to soggy scone before a steep pull up the road up onto Bilsdale Moor.  We were heading for the Bilsdale West transmitter, not because we had any special desire to see a 1000' mast close up, (though it was interesting for me - my Dad did a lot of work in the 50s installing microwave links in the north of England and up through Scotland as far as the Orkneys) but rather, there was a stonking great track which went north past the mast for a few miles before doing a U turn and returning us to Square Corner

Bilsdale West transmitter from the north

We arrived at the mast, after a light lunch and short siesta in the sunshine and realised that the OS 1:50,000 didn't quite line up with what was on the ground.  This is another problem with the Moors - tracks disappears.  The book wanted to take us off the LRT onto a bridleway but it no longer exists as far as we could see.  We found something which fitted the description but in a different place - and it was a foorpath.  So instead of thrashing through heathery singletrack, we were forced to carry along the wide, fast and fun route, which got even more fun as we turned south and started dropping furiously into a valley and back to farms and the road.  A final thrash along yet another poorly maintained bridleway got us back to Square square box, errr Corner.  A total of 21.5 miles and 2700' of up (and down)