A little exploration does you good.

Sometimes it's worth doing a little exploring, while things may be known to others it's nice to be able to find them for yourself rather than having them handed to you on a plate. With Cath off doing the Yorkshire Dales 200 I'd got the time to myself to locate a couple of descents in Swaledale that I knew about and knew of their approximate location but had never been to or ridden.

The first began near the road and I'd remarked to Cath several times that "That gully starts round here", so parking up near where I thought it would be I followed the first path through the heather that I came across and purely by chance got the right line! A piece of singletrack snaked its way along and down an old "hush", a very old (back to Roman times) means of mining, until it opened out in to a set of mine workings. All very rideable so I walked back up to the car.

The second trail is known as the "Pipeline Descent", I've seen it in a couple of videos and had read a blog on how to get to it, though the latter didn't make a whole lot of sense plus it was described from the opposite direction to how I was intending to get there.

Setting off from the Dales Bike Centre, it was the usual ride along the banks of the Swale until it was time to gird the loins and head up on to Harkerside Moor. I must still be suffering from the cold of a couple of weeks ago and felt like I was struggling and my legs just weren't working. Ahead on the upper traversing track was a group of riders, probably watching me heave my way upwards though they'd gone by the time I reached their position. As I got on to the plateau I could see them contouring the edge of the moor - exactly where I needed to be heading! They must be aiming for the same descent. With the morning dew still on the grass it was quite easy to follow them threading my way through heather and patches of open ground.

The group were just beginning their descent when I got to the start. Declining the offer of the last two to go ahead as I was sure I'd be slower than them (I'm always really slow on descents) I watched them on the first part. The ground wasn't steep but there was really just the one line through it - a semi traverse before pointing downhill as the angle eased and a blast through more heather to the start of the next drop. I committed my usual sin of going too slowly and had to dab but there was really only one short section that was hard. The next part of the descent was in a shallow gully so no chance off falling off and rolling down the hillside, you just had to keep rolling downwards. There was a slot in the bed of the gully about twice the width of the bike tyre so it was a matter of ensuring you followed that. Halfway down there's a couple of blocks across the line so you need to keep some speed going. After that it's just more heading downwards to the moorland below.

I caught the group up a little later, they were on an Orange Bikes demo day and Stu the owner of Dales Bike Centre was with them showing them some trails. After a chat (and to get my breath back) I headed up and across the moor to find the other gully descent. A bit of road climbing and I was there.

No stopping and I was straight in to it, nowhere technical, the hardest part was making sure you had your pedals set correctly so you didn't catch any of the rocks to the side. The whole thing was over far too quickly but then in the workings below I got the wrong side of a drainage channel so a quick dismount and a hop over it and I was on my way again. The rest of the ride was a simple blast down old mining tracks and the road back to the Centre.

After some grub I declined to head out on the second demo ride and drove up the dale to Muker. One published ride that I'd not done in Swaledale was the ride over Kisdon, a curious hill that divides the upper dale - the river runs to one side, the road and habitation are on the other "dry" side. The only problem was that I wasn't entirely sure how to get across the river to begin the loop.

In the end I simply road back down the road until I came to the bridge that we'd crossed on the YD300 and grunted and groaned my way up the tarmac climb on the other side. Eventually the tarmac gave way to rough farm track and I was following the Swale in a wonderful semi-abandoned part of the dale.

All too soon the track began to head upwards towards the wonderfully named Crackpot Hall then it was back down to the level of the Swale where a three-way fingerpost sign gave no indication of where to go (I'd no map with me hence the earlier uncertainty on how to cross the river), two fingers simply said "Pennine Way" and the third, pointing back the way I'd come: "Bridleway". I took a punt and headed down to the bridge and pushed up the other side until another sign indicated "BW Keld". All that remained was the climb back over Kisdon to Muker.

This started off OK but after about 100 metres my legs and lungs simply gave up so it was a case of pushing the bike to the top of the steep section and the first gate. The rest of the climb was steady and soon loose stone gave way to grass, the general angle easing all the while. A couple more gates and I'm at the top. There's hardly any time to savour the views as the track drops away  quckly and begins a helter-skelter of a descent down to Muker pausing only for several gates and losing 250 metres of height in about 1.5 kilometres. Not a route I'd like to do in the opposite direction! A gentle roll back to the car and I'm done.

Somewhat curiously despite my feeling that I wasn't up to par, Strava shows that I recorded some of my best times on the rides including some top ten times.

I see Thin People

Sometimes it's good to do something new, it shocks the body and mind and gets you out of a rut. So it was that I decided to enter the Kielder 101. That's kilometres not miles. It's a mountain bike race in and around Kielder forest with the "unique feature" of heading over to Scotland for part of the route.

Registration is on the Friday night so after that and something to eat I turn in for the night, kipping in the car - the campsite was full though apparently they were letting people pitch up without having booked.

I wake at 0400 with the arrival of more cars and having failed to get back to sleep get up at 0600 and make a brew and have breakfast. More people arrive and bikes are removed from cars and assembled and tested. The start is at 0730 with a final briefing at 0715.

Like a pro road race, the start is neutralised behind a vehicle for the first couple of kilometres then we turn off the Forest Drive and it's every man and woman for themselves. The first mile or so is uphill so everyone gets strung out before the first bits of singletrack.

The nature of all open races like this (fell races are similar in that you can be on the start line between the national champion and someone who is in their first race) is that you pretty soon get in to a group of riders that you pass, get overtaken, pass again. So, at least as far as the first border crossing I'd keep seeing the same people.

Apart from the first couple of kilometres and two road crossings the entire route is off-road, a mixture of fire road, single track and event specific sections that cut through virgin terrain. The first of these was a "short cut" between two fire roads and  mainly consisted of picking your way through moss covered tree roots.

The second food stop was at Newcastleton in Scotland, one of the options was being able to pack a bag with your own food and have it ready for you there, so savoury food rather than sweet was in order plus a restocking of my on-board supply then it was off again.

The rider I was with at this point would pull ahead for a while then stop and try and stretch his back - "Pilates on the bike is hard work!" Eventually on a climb I think he stopped for longer and I didn't see him again.

By now everyone was well spread out and between the second and third feed stations, 30Km in distance I saw only six riders - two passed me and I passed four more. I didn't stop at the third feed station just got my timer clocked, I'm well inside the cutoff, and then on my way. A long drag uphill then bits of singletrack descent to the road. Just one uphill to do.

Marked on the map as "Scorpion, the sting in the tale" it seemed to drag forever, just when you thought you were heading downhill you'd be taken in the opposite direction and yet more climbing. Eventually there's basically no more up and it's a case of sweeping down the singletrack descent. At one point there's a marshal who notes the two technical options ahead. I get off and walk, "Good choice!" says a voice behind. A rider catches up with me but declines to pass. The last technical section is down two sets of steps then a roll in to the finish and a "well done" and a handshake.

My official time is 6hrs47, I'd been aiming for 7hrs so am pleased with that.

No photos or video but here's the Strava trace.

The Sandstone Way

"What is it?"

"I don't know, it wasn't there yesterday"

"Where's it come from?"

"Dunno"

"What's that?" said the third.

"Dunno".

"Does it move?"

"Not seen anything."

"Ooh, that's new." Said the fourth "What is it?"

"We don't know"

I roll over. There's a line of cows looking over the fence at us lying under our tarp.

With fine weather forecast for the bank holiday (now where have I heard that before?) on Friday night Cath came up with the suggestion of doing The Sandstone Way up in Northumberland. A slight problem in that she was heading down to her sister's for the night and would be back mid-morning so we (by which I mean I) had to get things sorted that night.

The general plan was to drive to Berwick, leave the car there and get the train down to Hexham, ride the route back to Berwick and drive home. The winds were forecast as strong south westerlies so we'd be going with the wind on our backs. All the descriptions of the route are for a north to south direction, this meant I had to reverse the downloaded GPX files (what I didn't realise at the time was that the route is slightly different depending on the direction you travel). I also ordered the route map from Amazon and hoped that the one day delivery would get to us in time (it didn't). The final problem was booking the bikes on the train, even now you can't book a bike reservation online to go with your ticket.

Fortunately on Saturday morning five minutes at Skipton station procured both seats and bike reservations, phew! Now we just had to get to Berwick in time to catch the train. The roads were generally clear, unusual for a bank holiday, and we arrived with plenty of time to spare. With the bikes kitted out we were ready to go. This particular train had a guards van with bike racks, unfortunately it was at one end of the train and our seats were at the other so a long walk through first class was in order - at least it was before we had started the ride! A change at Newcastle then we were crammed on to a two coach Sprinter train which became even fuller after the first stop at the Metro Centre and half of Primark's stock got on board. It was a relief to get off at Hexham.

Now we just had to find the start of the ride, I had partly remembered it began by the golf course near the river so we headed there and just began riding alongside the river. Eventually the GPS indicated we were on route. The rest of the evening consisted of riding along, realising (from a frantically buzzing GPS) that we were off-route, back-tracking and carrying on. The route is well signed for going N-S but not so much going S-N and not having a map didn't help matters.

We were on the lookout for these.

We had no bike lights with us as we weren't planning on doing any night riding and the sun was starting to set, in such circumstances you are very much dictated to by nature so time to stop. Ahead was a drop to a river which looked like it was sheltered but had the potential to be very midgey so we decided to stop out in the open The tarp went up quickly and just as quickly the wind dropped and we got mugged by the flying death. Eventually the breeze returned and we ate our tea and had a few sips of whiskey. By 2100 we had turned in for the night.

Our first bivouac.

In the morning we were up and away by 0630 having used the last of our gas making a brew. Not many people are up at that time and we try not to wake the occupants of the first farms we passed. A couple of ups and downs and we roll in to Bellingham which is one quarter of the ride. The Co-op was open so we grabbed some breakfast before pressing on.

The next section was frustrating as it wasn't obvious and was also hard work - it is new trail to link up existing bridleways and as such isn't yet marked on the ground, there'd be occasional tyre marks to show we were on the right (non) track but it was mostly guesswork. We eventually reached a good track and the next few miles went easily enough until we once again went wrong. Another trudge through rushes and long grass to find a hidden gate and we'd be back on track. A good bit of singletrack across a moor and we were spat out on to a road, this led in a remarkably straight line to the start of a long forestry section.

Now forest tracks are forest tracks and there's only so much you can take. After a point of indecision we took the wrong track which actually turned out to be the right track as we had a fantastic descent through bright purple heather to the Coquet valley. Some more bad route choices (we should have just followed the road) got us to Rothbury where we had a big meal in a cafe and managed to buy a map.

Among the heather above Rothbury.

The climb out of Rothbury is technical and would be a great descent (probably the only good one going south) but as a climb it was easier to push. What it did do was get you on to an easy but brilliant track contouring round the edge of the moorland through more irridescant purple heather. All too soon and we are descending back in to the valley. We've decided not to head out to Alwinton but use one of the shortcuts to get further north before nightfall.

In the event we miss the turning for the next bit of bridleway so have more road work to rejoin the route. We decide on bivvying at the next available site but in an arable valley this is harder than you might imagine. Eventually we find a spot and settle down, along with the cows.

A well deserved crab sandwich.

Another early start the following morning and we make good progress getting over the last major hill and down to the coast for a not too late breakfast. All that is left is an amble along the coastline back to Berwick. Unsure as to where the route actually ends we ride around in circles for a bit before deciding that the signpost with a sticker on is it. We're done!

A Dales Mini-adventure

Individual Time Trials (ITTs) are long distance mountain bike rides that as their name suggests are meant to be ridden as an individual. They aren't a race in the same way that a road biking sportive isn't a race but that doesn't stop people comparing times. The individual aspect can also be misleading in that if the course is well known then it may have a mass start and in this case you will likely find yourself riding with other riders at some point. The individual aspect really refers to self-reliance.

One point about ITTs is that they are usually at least 160Km (100 miles) in length which is quite a commitment for many people to step up to. Some of the publicised routes are linear which introduces the problem of getting back to your starting point though many do finish at or near railway stations. With this in mind I thought of doing a 100Km loop in the Dales as a sort of stepping stone to the longer distance.

A bit of studying of the map and we came up with a route that fitted the criteria and apart from a few kilometres at the start and finish had surprisingly little riding on the road to link things up once we got in to the meat of the riding. It even include some bridleways that one or the other of us hadn't done before. The general plan was to do about 60Km on the Saturday, bivvy out and ride the remainder on the Sunday morning. Even better it was a fine forecast for the weekend.

After a steady spin along the road to Buckden it was the first climb of the day up the bridleway to Cray. I'd done this on the YD300 and had to walk quite a bit of it so was pleased to almost clean it. Once up on Stake Moss it was a case of heading along just making sure that we didn't miss the turn for the bridleway down to Thoralby. Up here you can't see the nearby dales so it feels like you are on a huge plateau extending to the horizon, quite spooky really. The intial part of the bridleway to Thoralby is lovely grassy riding but the second part has been "upgraded" by the estate and is now a loose vehicle track, not very pleasant at all.

A choice of ways just before Thoralby so we head uphill and find ourselves navigating blind as we try to find "Folly Lane", in retrospect it might have been better heading the other way! By the time we crossed the river at Aysgarth Falls we were getting hungry so headed to the cafe - this is one aspect of ITTs that might seem slightly strange - you may use any facility along the route providing it is open to anyone. Suitably fed it was on to Carperby and a climb up on to the terrace above the valley floor. We've done this route along the terrace a few times, the YD300 does it in the opposite direction, so no navigation problems.

There was now the obvious problem ahead of the climb up the Roman Road. It's not steep but it is nearly eight kilometres of uphill on rough track. Being a Roman road it is also strikingly straight so there is always the way ahead in sight. Once at the top though, there was little more climbing left to do before the night's stop. Actually with a slight change of plan it was pretty much all descent. While on the short road section at the top of the road climb up Fleet Moss a group of road cyclists went past and I suddenly realised that I knew them - a bit of shouting and they came back for a chat.

The Roman road continues down to Ribblehead and is a cracking high level ride, the area to the SE towards Penyghent is barren and feels very isolated. Cut left and we follow the Pennine Bridleway down to Ling Gill our intended stopping point for the night.

Bivouacs are a continuous reassessment of what you've done before and adaptation to the current situation. You'll never get everything absolutely right: you'll have brought too much gear; not enough gear; the wrong gear; etc. There was quite a breeze where we planned to set up so found somewhere more sheltered - big mistake! As the sun went down it became midge hell. Our previous use of the tarp had been either as a classic tent like ridge or A-frame or as a lean to against a wall. With a clear night forecast we set it up as a half pyramid to keep any wind off us but be fairly open to allow us to get the "out in the air" feeling.

Another reason to head out on shorter routes is that you can test out strategies without feeling pressure from the event or distance. Food is one such item or strategy. There's a balancing act between carrying too much and tiring yourself out from the extra effort and not taking enough that you can't refuel. There's also the option between cooking food and eating it cold. The former requires that you carry stove and fuel but on a cold bivvy warm food is a psychological boost. Eating food cold provides as much calories but often weighs more and takes up more space. The last couple of trips we've gone for a midway option: take a stove to make brews but eat cold food. It's almost the best of both worlds in that you get something warm but because you are only boiling water and not cooking there's no messy pans to deal with. An extension of this is to take dehydrated (either shop bought or home made) food and rehydrate with boiling water in its own bag, again no messy pans. For trips during cooler weather this is probably the preferred way to do things.

All was well and we settled down to sleep. Another brilliantly clear night with several satellites passing overhead and a few shooting stars from the tail end of the Perseid shower and the Milky Way quite prominent. At some point during the night I awoke after dreaming it was raining: the sky was now half clouded over. Within a short while it had begun to drizzle. Having a down sleeping bag out in the rain isn't a good idea even though we had bivvy bags over them. So we turned round and kept our heads and the exposed part of the bags under cover of the tarp.

Morning was dull and grey rather than the forecast bright day. A brew and a sandwich and we were away within half an hour of getting up. The descent in to Horton is on a limestone track with a rubble bed in places, quite interesting in the wet. Getting in to Horton we made use of the cafe to grab some food to take out and headed up the track to Penyghent. This has been improved slightly since I last did it and I managed to ride it all. 

Following the usual "head to Hull Pot and lose where the bridleway goes" we began the long contouring track around the back of Penyghent and Plover Hill. This has been improved in places but in others it is little more than a flattening of vegetation crossing moorland and unsuccessfully trying to avoid the peat bogs. Some short sections you have to walk but it is mostly rideable. Eventually we began the descent to Foxup but rather than drop all the way to the valley floor we cut back up to join the road to Stainforth. Along this for a while then it's our last bit of off-road trail on the trail down to Litton. The last time we did this it was quite wet and greasy but today it's dry and fast.

On the road it's a steady ride back down the Dale to the car (via the cafe at Kilnsey!) for a total of 101Km. We'd cut out one bridleway above Ribblehead so very slightly shorter than originally planned but still a good couple of days out. 

Here's the video.

YD300 Kit

I've edited the previous post on the Yorkshire Dales 300 and moved all the stuff about kit and strategy here. So this post will discuss what I took and why I took it.

The forecast was for a little bit of everything: sunny with a bit of breeze on Saturday then rain early Sunday becoming sunny again. I hoped to get away on Sunday morning before the rain arrived as putting wet bivvy kit away is neither nice nor easy.

I took the following, with the exception of the spare cycle top and the rear light I used everything but just as importantly I didn't require anything extra. If the weather hadn't been so bad then I wouldn't have used the baggy trousers, the jacket and the waterproof.

(H) = goes in handlebar bag
(F) = goes in frame bag
(S) = goes in saddle bag
(B) = goes in camelbak.

(H) tarp + lines and (F) pegs
(H) sleeping mat
(H) sleeping bag
(H) travel towel

(B) Hope Vision 2 light with battery and extension lead
(B) Moon rear light
(B) Garmin
(B) Tracker
(F) Anker backup batttery + cable for Garmin
Gopro + 2 spare batteries and card and chest harness.
(B) Toolkit
(B) spare brake pads
(B) Tubeless solution
(B) Inner tube.

(S) Spare socks
(B) buff
(B) waterproof top
(S) airtex top
(S) spare cycling top
(S) Long baggy trousers as waterproof
(S) Jacket

(F) chamois cream
(F) Wet wipes
(F) first aid kit
(F) Phone - turned off!
(B) cash and debit card.

Food:
(F) wraps
(F) marzipan, 1 block is 500g and 2200Kcal
(F) gels
(F) energy bars

All that, other than the Camelbak, went on a Cotic Solaris, here it is all ready to go. I'm not sure of the total weight, probably in the 16Kg range

In addition to the kit above I wore a pair of bib shorts, cycling top (both in Skipton CC colours), helmet, long fingered MTB gloves and photochromatic sunglasses.

The bike performed brilliantly, the only mechanical (if you can call it that) was the cadence sensor coming loose, I think a stone flying up had cut one of the bands that hold it to the crank. I noticed it when leaving the cafe on Sunday morning.

Speaking of cafes (and food).

Part of the strategy in doing something like this is where to refuel, you use a lot of energy - the Strava estimated some 12,000 Kcals for the ride, depending on how fast you are riding then you have to aim to get to a particular location and grab what you can. This being a rural area there are no 24hr shops. The first aim was to get to Dales Bike Centre and their cafe before 5pm, after that it was a case of find the pub furthest along the route that was still serving food, a bit of a game of chance especially since I wasn't sure where all the pubs were. Sunday would just be a case of grab things as I found them which would become easier throughout the day as everything opened up. There was still a big section from Bainbridge to Horton in Ribblesdale with no chance of supply.

A few of us grabbed an evening meal at the pub in Gunnerside - I'd last visited this pub in 1976 (as a slightly underage teenager!) when doing the coast to coast walk. I got there at 1905 and wasn't sure if I could make it over Buttertubs and down to Bainbridge before that pub stopped serving food - a strategic decision: carry on, risk bonking and then missing last orders or grab food now and lose daylight. I chose the latter. The food was good but took nearly an hour to arrive so in retrospect it might have been better to grab some snacks and head on.

All that said, the cafe in Feizor serves a mighty fine breakfast

A word of praise here: both the Penygent Cafe in Horton and the Feizor cafe opened early when riders turned up on their doorstep.

I took a Camelbak rather than use frame mounted bottles for two reasons:

1. With the frame bag in place I can't fit a cage and bottle.
2. There were significant stretches across dry areas and I felt that I needed more water than one or two water bottles could provide.

The Solaris only has mountings for one bottle cage - it's not really designed as a bikepacking bike.

Sleeping

The other main strategy is where to kip. It seems that most, the leading two riders excepted, chose somewhere around Dentdale, this was just over halfway distance wise but it was less time wise. Other than Stuart and myself who chose the same spot it seems that everyone else was spread along the dale.

There's a choice between bivvy bag and tarp. Both have their advantages: a sleeping bag inside a bivvy bag can be stored as is and is very quick to set up and put away and even if it's raining you are unlikely to get the bag wet. Not much room for anything else though. A tarp takes a bit longer to put up but gives you room to have your kit to hand without it getting in the way.

With the night being forecast and turning out very warm it might well have been possible to just use a silk sleeping bag liner inside a bivvy bag. This would have been a very light and compact system but you would be very exposed if anything went wrong.

What would I have done differently?

In the circumstances, not much really. If I'd felt that I stood a chance of a quick time I would have perhaps gone with silk sleeping bag liner and bivvy bag. I had ten hours of stopped time out of my total of 35hrs50, some of which might have been opening gates and the like. But I also had the following stops:

Askrigg: 15 mins
Dales Bike Centre: 30mins
Gunnerside: 1hr20
Bivvy: 5hrs
Feizor: 1hr20
Grassington: 10mins

I'm surprised at the bivvy time actually since it felt like we were there for much less time. The real timewasters were at the pub in Gunnerside and extending the breakfast at Feizor. The first might be better done by carrying the evening meal and cooking it at an appropriate time. The breakfast was just me faffing and timing - if I'd left a couple of minutes sooner I wouldn't have seen Simon and the other rider come in.

On an ITT no-one can hear you scream!

I try to push on the pedal but it's no use, the pain is too much and the air turns blue with pain and frustration. Again I get off the bike and massage and beat the offending muscle. Back on the bike but this time it's the other leg, off the bike and attend to that. I'm on my own, I think, on the track up Great Pinseat above Swaledale and I've only done 110 of the route's 300 kilometres.

I stagger on, walking and pushing the bike even on the flat, eventually I reach the summit and can freewheel down the other side. Then there's another hill. The reality is that there's more of those ahead, a lot more. Quitting is looking the sensible option. There's an old joke about fighting a gorilla: you don't stop when you are tired, you stop when the gorilla's tired. Except this gorilla cannot tire, its unyielding stones impervious to fleeting rubber.

My companion for the last 50Km has moved ahead and the rider behind isn't catching up (I later learn that he too is suffering from cramps) so I'm still on my own for the crux of the route: the descent in to Gunnerside Gill is steep, technical and hard to find the correct entry point. I get the wrong line and resort to walking down 45 degree boulder strewn heather. The old mine workings mark the end of this and the route down to Gunnerside is dry and fast. There's a pub = food.

The idea of a Yorkshire Dales ITT had started last year when Stuart Rider had attempted the Highland Trail 550. He'd had to withdraw but it gave him an idea of a similar event in the Dales. So when he announced it, I signed up. So did another 60 or so. The original route was 320Km and had another, big, hill but with a bit of tweeking the distance dropped down to just over 300m. Oh, and the small matter of 6700m of climbing. In the event just twenty started on Saturday morning and only ten finished.

Simon Lerpiniere on Stake Moss

The gorilla is winning. I know there's a descent coming but it's nearly midnight and I'm weary and becoming prone to mistakes. The descent is fast but with some lose sections. Time to stop. Fittingly the bivvy is at the highest point of the route at the head of Cam High Road. A wall provides some shelter from the wind. It's never truly dark through the night at this time of year and I drift in and out of sleep. There's the occasional very light shower. One of my wraps suffices for breakfast and I'm on my way.

The rain arrives about an hour later. On a fine day the route over the shoulder of Whernside and across Great Wold has grand vistas, today it's grim. On the climb on to Great Wold I pass another rider with a mood to match both mine and the weather.

Temptation: I come to a T-junction. I have to take the left towards the forestry and then down to Horton-in-Ribblesdale but I know that if I turn right and go through the gate then in less than a kilometre I'll pick up the route again where it joins the Pennine Bridleway and crosses the Ribble. Local knowledge can be a cruel thing. By the time I'm at Horton, I've run out of water. I can't see any outside taps from which to refill. Head down to hide from the rain and carry on.

Stuart's idea was to include as many of the best tracks that the Dales have to offer. I'm beginning to feel like he's included all of them. The route is intestinal in its loops and there will be more such shortcuts on offer later in the day with the route ahead in sight but an hour or two's riding away.

Wet limestone is very slippery and once or twice I nearly come a cropper on the lanes leading off Sulber Nick. I'm out of the clag and things ahead are looking a little brighter. Passing Austwick I've a choice of ford or clapper bridge - I chose to walk the bridge, wet slate is also very slippery. A couple of kilometres ahead is Feizor and a cafe but it doesn't open until 0930. Completely unsure of the time I turn on my phone: 0950. Decision made - I'm having some breakfast!

The rather filling full breakfast at the cafe in Feizor

A couple of riders arrive and I dally longer than is needed but we are social creatures and company feels good. Having seen no-one since the rider leaving Dentdale I spend the rest of the ride shuffling around in a small group that is dispersed over a ten minute or so gap.

My hands are bruised and sore, holding the bars is increasingly difficult, the soles of my feet are burning and I have to continually adjust my position on the pedals. None of this matters, the end is in sight, another minute or so of concentration and there's 10Km of tarmac left to the finish though I convince myself it's only 5Km. One last climb and the descent in to town then it's just the ramp to cross the railway, "Attack! Attack! Just one metre of climb to do!" Quite what the bloke walking beside the road thought of the shouts of a filthy, smelly rider on a bike I've no idea. Turn on to the last road, pot hole avoidance and then finally ride in to the yard nearly 36 hours after leaving. My first ITT event is complete.


Here's my ride on Strava.

Back o' Skiddaw

Before I began looking at the Bob Graham Round I'd done no walking in the Northern Fells of the Lake District. Even then I only visited the summits of Skiddaw, Great Calva and Blencathra that are on the round itself, Mungrisdale Common was visited as a default since the route passes within a few metres of its "summit" (probably the least prominent summit of any of those in Wainwright's books).

In the last couple of years I began visiting the remaining fells as part of getting all the Wainwrights done and last year I completed the Northern Fells book with a day on the mountain bike ticking off the last four. Of course concentrating on the fell tops means that you leave the valleys largely untrod so with a ride organised around the bridleways of the area it was a chance to put that right.

Over the years there has been quite a bit of mining in the Lake District - the lead mines of Newlands and the copper mines around Coniston being the best known examples but there were several mines in the Northern Fells and these lasted until quite recently, the tungsten mine in Grainsgill    for example closed in 1981. One of the legacies of these workings are a series of tracks that are ideal for mountain biking.

A bit of road work to begin with then the tracks began. One thing about the Northern Fells is that they don't peter out in to lower ground, they just stop so you get great views from the Pennines all the way round to the Dumfrieshire Hills. The track snakes its way around the fell sides undulating along but generally upwards weaving its way in and out of sets of old mine workings. Eventually there's no more up and it's a blast of a descent to the next little bit of road.

A short climb up this then another section of track, greener this time, leads down to the longest road section leading round to the start of the track to Skiddaw House. I've walked down the first tarmac bit of this when fell bagging but other than crossing the tracks at points when on BG recces and attempts the next fifteen kilometres was going to be all new to me.

The challenge on the first part is blindingly obvious: the climb up by the side of the waterfall of Whitewater Dash. Fortunately it's mostly up a bit then recover on a flattish section then up again. Unfortunately the last hundred metres or so steepens and becomes loose so maintaining traction and forward momentum begins to take too much energy so it's just easier to get off and push. From just short of the gate however it becomes rideable again. Once at the high point of the track it's a fast blast down to a ford across the beck. Left line or right? Cath chooses right so I follow her and we both come to a halt in the middle of the beck! Not the only ones apparently.

A short climb up to Skiddaw House and it's an enforced wait as one of the riders behind punctures both tyres. There are a couple of teams out reccying the BG that I can see, obviously I know where to look. With the wind it gets pretty cold by the time we are moving again. The track following the Calder is singletrack for the next four kilometres or so, constantly interesting chosing the best line around and over rocks and boulders until eventually it becomes landrover track then tarmac and it's freewheel back down to the cars.