MTB trip to the North York Moors
1 Feb 1996
1996's first trip away - The North York Moors
Our weekend went like this: we wandered up to Roger's,
crashed, got up, biked, pizzaed, crashed, got up slower,
biked and came home.
For those of you who don't know the North York Moors,
you can find them by driving up the A1 until you're very,
very bored, then turning right. The area is one of the most
unknown and empty of our National Parks and thus ideal
for screaming about on MTB's. I lived up there for a year,
doing a truely soul destroying job, riding all over the moors
kept me sane.
Saturday's riding was a change from our previous routes.
We started with a big climb through the woods up from
Guisborough, nice and sheltered. The first downhill
claimed two rear mechs, curtesy of Forest Enterprise,
who'd cunningly laid a carpet of sticks and logs across our
path.
With Paul and James running single speeds, we climbed
out onto the moor to ride along Quaker's Trod. This is an
ancient pilgrim's route, right across one of the most
exposed parts of the moors. Windy? Err, a tad. Here's
Henry sheltering from the wind. It was here that I
discovered I could no longer ride technical singletrack.
We dove down into Commondale to go to the pub, but
decided that it was far too early, so being keen, we
slogged up and over another hill, in the wind again. It was
a relief to get back into the woods and start downwards.
Tom recorded 41 mph down the hill. This particular hill has
a gate halfway down, resulting in much amusement. It was
here I discovered I could no longer brake on rocky ground.
Shortly afterwards Paul destroyed a tyre.
So we caned it to the pub, "8 plates of chips please", Chris
punctured in the car park, we found a damn steep hill up to
the top of Ayton Quarry. Now Ayton Quarry is quite
possibly the best dirt jumping spot in England and thus
was full of BMXers utterly blowing us away. There used to
be a huge pair of doubles called the Diamonds, 8 foot high,
lots more across and when I say 8 foot high, I mean 8 foot.
Anyway, one side has been demolished, cut down to 3 foot
in a unsuccessful attempt to stop people from killing
themselves. So two of the BMXers were merrily launching
of this 3 footer, airing a gobsmacking amount and plunging
back down onto the 8 foot high landing pad. Golly.
So we left, climbed back up over the big saddle between
Roseberry Topping (big pointy hill) and Little Roseberry
(big flat topped thing), over the moor again and back down
the Secret Track. This starts with a bridge, well a plank
covered in chicken wire. Then roots, more roots, technical
wiggly bits, down bits, more down bits and just when you're
picking up lots of speed, a deceiving right-hander, that
starts gentle and smooth, gets steeper, tighter and rougher
then just as you think you're going to be flung off the edge
and into the void, it straightens out and turns into a one-in-
four slick sheet of slime. John slid most of it sideways, I
slid most of it sitting on the top tube, halted and turn
around in time to see Henry sliding towards the edge,
recover, flick it the other way, bail and go off the edge feet
first, having done a full spin. Style move!
Feeling utterly knacked, we headed back to Roger's, via
the most excellent jet wash at Teeside Park. If you're ever
in the area, go try it out. Quick pizza frenzy then off down
the pub for a quiet few at the end of the day.
I felt too ill to ride on Sunday, so curled up on Roger's sofa
with a big cup of tea. The photos below suggest that much
fun was had by all.
Steep thing, you make my heart sing
Red Run. Its big, its steep, you can hit 40 mph coming off
the bottom. Joy!
For lunch, they stopped for tea in a quaint teashop. It was
improved by the addition of copious quantities of mud.
Windy? A tad. Sheltering from the wind by Captain Cooks
monument, a big pointy thing on top of a big non-pointy
hill. The big pointy thing in the background is Roseberry
Topping, around which much of Saturday's riding took
place.
Thanks to Chris Jones for the photos and thanks to Roger
for the house.
Jez