It's Only A Hill

 One year on and we are back for some more downhill action, straight onto the lobster pots for a day on the trails

The Furnicular – route to all trails down.

 The view looking out from the bar…..

and the view looking into the bar

 We're glad this boy doesn't ride a downhill bike, he'd be a danger to himself, if not us!! the boy has skills he doesnt know how to use yet, sell the carbon thing and get something with some beef boy!

 Lower than a snake's belly in a wagon rut!

Trails of the week for me included poundstretcher into double header, killer, endless, technical, steep, exposed, rooty, rock gardened, smooshy, buff, loamy, arm pumping singletrack and not a gate in sight! Perfect.

Sat around the dinner table in the Goat Shed, the "standard" accomodation offered by Trail Addiction, luxurious by any, well my standards, the guides are trying to convince a bunch of us into forgoing a day of uplift in favour of pedalling uphill for 10K tomorrow.

The down more than compensates for the climb they say, endless killer singletrack, huge views, we're in.  Next morning instead of heading for the nearby lifts we load the bikes into the TA trailer and shuttle to our start, a steady away 20 minute climb under cloudless skies, all good so far.

A re group at the start of the first down, steady away doubletrack before the start of the singletrack, steep, exposed with a couple of hairpins that it's recommended to walk and for once the guides have not over egged the difficulty, the first switchbacks are steep, tight and a couple are just too dam risky to ride, brilliant!

Nearly at the bottom of an awesome descent, the gradient has lessened, the speed has increased and the smiles have widened, unfortuantley though this means the start of the climb, its bitching hot and I hate pedalling the patriot, it had better be worth it, as I recall last nights conversations!!

Some time later……………… big vistas!

 and the fun begins, heading down!

As we head into the trees, the trail just gets faster, off the brakes, on the brakes, its the forest moon of Endor, blasting through the trees, alternate switchbacks, pedalling hard, arms pumped, shoulders dropping in, looking ahead, later and later on the brakes, how long does this go on, more, more, more and then the inevitable happens, I feel the front break away, too much brake and the tyre looses grip, tucks under and its hello to air time, the bike remains mid track as I take my ticket to somewhere down the hill, the gradient eases the thud and I roll through the undergrowth, a quick dust down and head back to get the bike out of the way of the next rider, a quick survey of man and machine reveals only wounded pride on both parts! that was fun. 

The longer part of the ride is done, we stop, refill our camelbacks, Mansell tells us there's 3 sets of switchbacks coming up worthy of some respect, he can't remember or isnt telling whether they get easier or harder, whichever they are ahead somewhere.  My pea sized brain immediatley forgets the warnings and all too soon I am into a switchback, too fast, no time to formulate a plan, I drop in and out, clean, cool.

Now unlike the earlier crash I don't really recall what happened next, the second set of switchbacks and I am waaaay toooo fast, no time to scrub speed, I "see" the line, straight through and down, I can see my exit, I swear the line is there, even now, however!  This is going to hurt, surely.  I'm still clipped in, upside down, a few feet off the ground, this is happening very fast. I land first with the bike on top of me, all tangled up I then drop off the trail and start making progress down the hill, I manage to grab a tree branch, stop the slide, branch in one hand, patriot in the other.  I haul the bike over my head and on to the trail above.  I can't believe nothing hurts, dragging myself up and dusting myself down, a quick look round, no one saw a thing, brilliant! 

……………and its pretty much done, looking back to the last of the steeps, there's only one technical set of corners left to negotiate, only Ash, founder and trail guru of Trail Addiction has cleaned the remaining switchback, where are the photographs? I was too busy falling off to get the camera out, super steep, suber exposed, super loose and uber hard!

So is it worth taking a day off the lifts to take in this ride, you'd better believe it!  I have to rate this as one on THE rides I have done, two of the biggest stacks I have ever had, launching over the bars on both occasions, thankfully completley unscathed.

This is alpine singletrack at it's very best, riding simply doesn't get better than this. Trail Addiction pride themselves on lift assisted downhill and I note that their website this year features this ride and rightly so.  The Chilcotins are perhaps the only place I could place above in an order of merit but save the airfare and the float plane flight and here you are, the best singletrack you will probably ever ride!

Head down, pedalling fast, riding into the wind, cinders crunch beneath our tyres, steel rails long since removed.

Eyes search for unseen fast approaching hazards, trail flat, black, snaking, disappearing into the darkness.  I recall from a previous ride that the trail has dropped down the hillside in one place, where?  I can't remember.

Lights pierce blackness, twisting, turning, darkness and shadows, moments to react, I chance a hand off the bars to re adjust my light, eyes focused ahead, trying not to look down.  This isn't the right trail, a missed turn, thankfully noticed before we had gone too far.

Ruts!  The trail splits, I take one, hoping that it doesn't veer off down the hillside into the wilds of the Yorkshire Moors, momentarily my wheels are either side of the rut, the bike crabs down the trail before the tracks converge.

Behind me I hear a cry, followed by a thud, then laughter, whoever it is has just hit mother earth, unhurt, only pride taken a bruising.  We stop, four lights streaming into the night.  Bike and rider reunited, reaching the head of the valley, turning, wind on our backs, the pace quickens.

We pick our way through bogs and sodden earth, mud beneath our tyres and feet, squelching, oozing, wheels used as depth probes before committing our weight.

Wetland behind us.  The surface changes to hard pack earth, a short climb, a steep drop encourages us to stay upright and we exercise caution lest we tumble downwards.  The trail disappears over a blind crest, falling away, up on the pedals, weight over the back, brakes squealing we pick our way down.  I need more light, 900 lumens is not enough, how can that be?

Dark ruins lie, long since abandoned to the ravages of weather, stonework tumbling, overgrown, nature blanketing, enveloping, reclaiming from the industrial revolution.

Trail widening we pedal side by side, easing back on grassy double track, smiles and chatter, we agree that single track night riding is an experience not to be missed.

As the longer nights are upon us we renew our night riding commitment.  Days spent in office staring out at blue skies translates into battery charging, light fitting after work pedalling.

Everything seems so much quicker after the sun goes down, we stop turning off our lights, revelling in the peace and quiet the moment offers, farmhouse lights twinkle through the end of day hours, no streetlights, moon and stars obscured by clouds, only our heavy breathing breaking the silence.

The last section awaits, legs burning, lungs bursting we launch from trail to tarmac and slowly spin back to the van.  the pub beckons but so do our beds.  changing by bike lights, snacking on pasties and rolls, our mud covered bikes and kit litter the back of the van.  A drive home, All in agreement that more must follow.

I'll send an email in the morning!

Ah, Spain, this time dry, sunny and hot! Si wanted to take us higher up to start some of the rides but snow was still an issue on the higher slopes. All rides seem to start with the inevitable climb but as ever in these parts the downhill more than makes up for some of the uphill pain, double track, dusty descents give way to steep technical trials riding before mellowing to awesome singletrack

A sunny day in the Mendips provides our Saturday entertainment, riding from Sal's soon has us climbing up into the hills before hitting the first of many sections of sweet singletrack.

The dry conditions that have kept us out of our boats have left the trails in perfect condition, I last rode the trail below in the depths of winter, with knee deep mud in sections, having been churned up by horses, with promises of   " this is awesome in the dry"…. you'll have to come back….. for once Driller was right.

From here it was all downhill, steady away singletrack to attack and ride as fast as you can, quality, this is why we ride!

Stevie dropping into the last down before the pub and a few pints of well earned Gem

Next day saw us on the uplift at Cwmdown, as you can see a blue sky day, scorching hot, I'm having a few issues with pictures from this day, so there's only these to show.  I'll try and work with the tame web monkey to resolve but in the meantime if you scroll down you can see just what the worst thing that can happen could actually be….. on a borrowed bike, Stevie is one lucky boy, a few yards later and it would have been liquids through a straw for a few weeks…….

So what has attracted all the interest??

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you…..

As Stevie pulled on the bars, pedalling the last flat section before 'dropping in,' they just came off in his hand.  Closer examination revealed clean and tarnished sections on the steerer indicating the crack had been there some time, just waiting for an opportune moment to break clean off, the run before this happened saw Driller, Stevie and I pinning it downhill a few bike lengths apart, it could have been real messy.

Which only left us with one more thing to do……

Nidderdale, this ride has been featured a few times in the magazines and is one of the original MBR “killer loops”.  It’s a classic and I would rate it against pretty much any ride you care to mention in the UK and further afield for that matter.  We stayed in the bunkhouse overlooking the Scar House Resevoir Dam.

Building started in the twenties, finishing in 1937, along with Angram resevoir immediatley above, combined they supply most of Bradford’s water.  Lying in the shadow of little Whernside, just outside the boundaries of the Yorkshire Dales National Park, we usually start at Ramsgill, through Lofthouse, Middlesmoor and out onto In Moor.  A steady away climb leads to the fast descent to the Dam, crossing and climbing onto North Moor, following the Nidderdale way before climbing above the shooting lodge and following the double track along the ridge.

Climbing up the Nidderdale way above the Dam

Don’t forget to stop every now and again to take in the huge views that this ride offers.

So we managed to stay off the beer all afternoon, leaving us with the energy to go ride the ridge again as night closed in.

We shortened the night ride, taking the steep grass track from the second shooting lodge, it’s steep and fast down to Thrope Farm before rejoining the Nidderdale Way and popping out onto the road just above Lofthouse, perfect.