YD200, the 2018 Edition

2018 has been a somewhat frustrating year, I'd scratched on the first day on the HT550 and on the fifth day of The French Divide so I was a bit down about things. We'd toured Brittany after scratching on the FD but if I'd completed the FD then I doubt I would have considered riding this year's YD200. As it was I thought I'd be OK so rang Stuart on the Friday to see if there were any spaces.

"There's only eight due to turn up! A few who registered have emailed to say they can't make it."

"See you tomorrow morning"

Which meant I had to get the bike ready. But I'm a dab hand at this now. The forecast was fine and cool (hurrah!) for Saturday with rain coming in on Sunday morning. Riding through was the obvious tactic but I'd pack a lightweight bivy system that I've used before: SOl Escape bivy and a PHD lightweight duvet. Along with a windshirt for possible trail use it came to a mighty 600g! An Alpkit Top Tube bag mounted in the frame behind the bottle cage held tools and spares, the pump was strapped to the bottle cage, and two Revelate Feed bags for trail snacks and odds 'n' sods. Pretty lightweight but some did have even less.

Up early and ride into town. Yep, just eight of us. I knew, in varying degrees, four of the others, ITTs are a small and apparently shrinking world. One of those I know is Phil Clarke who I'd ridden with on last year's HT550 and who I'd last seen at Corrour this year when he gave me an inner tube for my busted rear wheel. Returning that we had a chat then Stuart gave his usual pep-talk and soon it was time to go.

I led the small group out of the yard and towards town, that certainly wasn't going to last! Soon enough the front runners are off in front. Let them go. Most of Stuart's rides finish over Barden Moor but this started that way which isn't that usual for me to ride. It's a long drag to the summit especially with the head wind. Soon enough we are dropping down to Rylstone and heading up to Bordley.

The front two (Tom Bruce and Phil) are well ahead but there's a group of four of us riding at roughly the same pace so Mike, George, Ian and myself spend most of the next few hours riding together or as various pairings as our strength ebbs and flows. There's quite a bit of surface water on Mastiles Lane, evidence of Friday's rain, nothing's particularly boggy or muddy though and we keep pressing on.

The Saturday of the August BH weekend is Malham Show Day which has an associated Trailquest meaning that as we pushed westwards towards Settle we'd cross lots of bikers with map boards mounted on their bikes as they rode around picking up controls and points. There was one part of the route that I'd not done before, at the time I thought it was a footpath but checking the map afterwards it wasn't even that, definitely cheeky!

Mike, myself and George at the 3 Peaks cafe in Settle

An agreement was made to have a coffee in Settle then the first of the hard climbs, it's in the 100 road climbs book, where Mike gets a bit of lead on the rest of us before a rapid descent and some nice BW around Wharfe. Lights on for the descent through the tunnels at Clapham and we pop out of those to find Mike dealing with a blown rear tyre.

The next bit to Wray is all road but it's lumpy. There's just George and myself at this point and by the time we get to Wray we could do with refreshments as there'll be nothing until we ride back over the Roman road across Salter's Fell to Slaidburn. The pub is convenient and a drink and ice cream do wonders. Steep road before an equally steep drop and climb back out lead to the end of the tarmac. The first part of the track is a good surface but it deteriorates after a gate, presumably an estate boundary, then again after another gate.

We almost gate crash a wedding on the way in to Slaidburn where we meet up again with Ian. We've just about finished our coffee when Mike arrives - George and I thought he'd passed us when we were in the pub but fixing his tyre had taken longer than anticipated. As we pass through Gisburn Forest he nips off to the cafe/shop to see if they have inner tubes for sale.

There's short sections of one of the marked routes we need to follow and I'm reminded why I don't like trail centres. Ah well, at least it's over pretty soon. Unfortunately as we climb through the forest I get the early signs of cramp and George and Ian leave me behind. Nothing to do but ease off and pedal through it. At least there's a long bit of generally downhill road next. One climb up to above Settle then a bit of bridleway I'd not done before and then I'm in town.

George and Ian are sat outside the Co-op, I nip in and grab what I need. I leave five minutes after them and won't see them until the finish. I normally manage the climb on the Settle Loop out of town but the cramps force me to walk some of it - at least I clean one of the rocky sections for the first time.

Once on top it's easy going as now there's a tail wind. Most of the puddles on Mastiles Lane have gone, in fact one beck that we'd avoided on the way out because it was so deep was now almost dry. With lots of interlinked loops in the route at this point it was possible I'd see the front riders and so it proved as Phil and I met at a gate. A quick chat about timings and we head on. I'd enough food to not need to visit the Spar at Threshfield but I needed to walk the steep tarmac back onto the tops. Down to the foot of Mastiles then start heading up again.

Mike catches me at this point - he'd stopped for something to eat at Tosside - as we get to the steeper top section we both get off and walk. The moon is just rising and we both stop to take a shot. Once on top it's nearly dark and the wind feels keen so on with the arm warmers and press on. I switch my lights on just before Lee Gate farm, no point in risking things.

There's just one short steep climb to Weets Top and as the cramps come back Mike pulls away. I'll be on my own to the finish. The descent to Calton is a blast in the dark. I text Cath to let her know my expected finish time and polish off the road section to Bell Busk. Just Markhouse Lane, the canal towpath and the old railway track to do.

I've done bits of the old railway track where the Land-Rover experience use it but not the section heading back to town. The pools looked particularly black tonight, well worth avoiding. The "new" bit starts off as double track but slowly gets less and less well defined until soon you are on a path riding through bushes. There's no lights to indicate where I am but all of a sudden the angle goes downhill sharply and I debouch onto the road. Just TT mode back to the finish.

I finish just before 11pm having taken just under 15hrs. Phil and my three companions are there and we chat for a while before it's time to head home and get some kip. The fastest time was 12hrs22mins.

Overall not a bad effort. I could still feel this summer's efforts in my legs, in particular there's no real top end power and sustained tempo is a bit lacking - going up long draggy hills I'd invariably drop behind whoever I was with.

Sunlight and Storm

With the media predicting another national crisis - the mini beast from the east - for the weekend road riding was out of the equation. More fat bike action!

Cath had agreed to go on an all women's ride but there were a couple of blokes invited along so we headed up the Dale to Threshfield. It was all a bit nippy getting ready, even in the lee of some trees, but soon we were away.

I'd swiped Cath's pogies as they don't fit the bars on her Stooge. Unfortunately they don't quite fit the Mary bars either so although I used them today, I'll need some different bars in the future.

Pete and Jo on the climb up from Threshfield

There was quite a lot of ice on the track leading up on to the moor but it had a rough surface so was easy to ride on. I'd put too much air in the tyres and was bouncing around a bit so let a couple of PSI out and things were much better from then on.

Heading off Threshfield Moor

And then the sun came out!

Heading over towards Kilnsey and Mastiles Lane

A wintry upper Wharfedale ahead.

We got to the foot of Mastiles Lane just as the first shower hit. There was a discussion as to whether to head down the lane to the pub in Kilnsey but by the time we'd come to a decision (pub) it had cleared out so we changed our minds and headed up the lane.

The start of the climb up Mastiles Lane

Now I've only ever cleared the climb up the lane once, many years ago, but it was ideal conditions with all the usual loose material frozen in place so I just span away and crested the top without so much as a thought of dabbing.

Cath at the top of Mastiles Lane about to get clobbered by the next shower.

 Cath managed the steep part of the climb clean for the first time only to get blown off by the wind just before the very top.

A lunch break behind a convenient wall then it was round by Lee Gate Farm and back to Bordley. Of course as soon as we turned back in to the wind another shower hit. With no goggles it was painful riding, I could only look at the ground behind my front wheel and it was as much memory of where the track went that got me down to Bordley Farm.

Another shower arriving at Lee Gate farm.

We were now riding into the wind, hard work!

No sooner than we had got out of the wind in the shelter of the buildings than the shower passed and the sun came out!

The gang heading away from Bordley Farm.

Despite the wind, the temperature wasn't particularly cold and quite a bit of ground and puddles weren't frozen. This meant that there were a few brakes and rear mechs that got wet and then froze up. We spent a few minutes dealing with Jo's rear mech after it jammed.

Finally it was back down to Threshfield. Normally on this descent I have to hit the brakes quite hard at certain points. Today it was a block headwind and you had to pedal downhill! Only 21km but those kilometres were hard won.

Here's the Strava bit.

Winter bivy

Every year various groups of riders from the Bearbones forums head out the weekend before Christmas for a bivy. It consists of cafe, a bit of a ride, pub, a bit more of a ride, bivy, some riding, a cafe stop finishing with more riding back to a cafe. Generally the groups are organised according to location so Wales, Scotland, North of England, etc. though occasionally there's some cross border raiding.

After a bit of humming and harring with no-one wanting to stick their head above the (icy) parapet, Chew took control and set about organising a ride in the Dales. A slight problem in that it had to be the weekend before all the others. Oh, well. After a bit of checking with the proposed route along with some changes to account for certain sections not being a bridleway and actually going through farm yards so therefore not being a good idea, the plan was formalised.

There was the usual: "I'll be there", "Err, no I won't" shenanigans which resulted in a grand total of seven of us turning up at the cafe in Kettlewell. There were two - Dave and Rob - whom I'd not met before. After some grub we managed to tear ourselves away from the warmth of the cafe fire and head up the Dale.

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We'd not gone far when there's a mechanical. It turned out to be Chris' (Zippy) freehub that occasionally wouldn't work as intended. He thought it was due to the oil in the hub being stiffer due to the cold as the bike had been stored in sub-zero temps for a while and that with some use it might warm up. Then again it was significantly below zero so he'd have to be putting some serious work into it to heat it up.

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Without further ado we headed further up the Dale with the road becoming increasingly white and icy as we gained height. Halfway up Langstrothdale we chose to take the path on the opposite side of the river, well, because. I'd never been along this before so it was interesting. Especially interesting was negotiating the sheets of ice where streams crossed the path and had spilled out and the thankfully short sections of limestone pavement. A couple of Km later and we are back on the road but by now it's even dicier than the path with a dusting of snow covering any ice. Fortunately all stayed upright.


Then it was through the woods. It's a long, long time since I'd been through these. By the time we got to the other side the clag was down thus kiboshing Chew's idea of a big reveal of Ribblehead viaduct. As a result we decided to cut the corner and head along the Pennine Bridleway up on to Cam Fell. What presumably was a shooting party similarly stymied by the mirk were heading the other way in their 4x4s: "You're off your tits you lot!" seemed to be their consensus. They might have been right.

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The Track round Dodd Fell is wet at the best of times so today it was going to be an ice-fest. Fortunately it wasn't too bad with just one section that needed dismounting to get round a rather ominous frozen puddle. At Ten End we cut east on the bridleway. Again frozen in places necessitating walking there were usually boggy sections where the temperature actually helped, in fact it was the first time I've been able to ride the final field without dabbing. By the time we got to the road it was nearly dark.

The first section of road was really slippery and it was a bit of a relief to get onto salted roads. After a restocking at the Spar in Hawes it was decided that we'd just head along the road to the pub. At least this was fairly flat and clear so you could keep a good pace.

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The pub was lovely and warm - it took a bit of effort from Chew not to fall asleep by the fire! The food was very good as well. Having imbibed and eaten it was time to head out and get to the bothy. This was uphill! A lot of uphill. Again the freezing temperatures had frozen whatever surface water was on the track so one or two short bits needed to be walked. Upward, ever upward until the track levelled off only to reveal more uphill. This eventually relented and before long we arrived at the bothy.

It's really quite well appointed. We get a fire going and the temperature inside becomes bearable. After a lot of banter, whisky and more banter we decide to turn in for the night.

Morning replaces last night's clear skies with more mirk. There's no point rushing as the cafe in Leyburn doesn't open 'til ten. A fast descent is no way to start a ride on a cold morning but at least it was followed by a stiff climb to warm things up. Not so good were the regular sheets of ice across the track. Cath came a cropper on one of these, you go down hard and fast on ice and she was a little more circumspect after this. After sussing out another potential bivvy spot for next year and more ice we transitioned to limestone country. There was the small matter of an icy road in-between mind.

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After a few Km of limestone gravel tracks and tarmac we dropped into Leyburn to find the intended cafe was shut. Fortunately there was one open across the square. Phew! The cafe was rather good and had decent sized portions, certainly I struggled to finish my breakfast.

An hour later several plumper cyclists headed out into the cold again. At least we were now heading in the same direction as the wind. Some fast road work got us to the valley floor then some slower riding got us to the same height on the other side of the valley. A steady section of riding ensued around the edge of the dale before a nice fast descent to West Burton. All that was between us and Wharfedale was the small matter of the climb onto Stake Moss from Thoralby.

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The only other time I've been up this way was on the YD200 when with a very lightly loaded bike with light wheels I'd resorted to pushing the concreted lower section. Today I'd got the plus wheels and was fully laden with winter bivy kit and clothing. So I rode it all! No idea how I did it really. At least higher up what in summer was soft pasture that dragged at your tyres was now crisp and pleasant to ride.

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The top of Stake Moss was wide and wild - Dave said it reminded him of shots of the Tour Divide: empty spaces and big threatening skies. Steady going across the top until the descent to Kidstones. This was surprisingly icy and I walked the steeper bits though Chris rode them all. Once at the road it was a choice between the bridleway down to Buckden or the road. We all elected for the road. Then again 3Km of fast downhill is pretty chilling so I was glad of having to pedal hard along the road back to Kettlewell.

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Most wanted to head off ASAP but Chris (who'd actually come up from Essex) Cath and I headed to the cafe for cake and a cup of coffee.

A good weekend.

Yorkshire Dales 200, the 2016 edition

Skipton's that way mate.

"So where are you heading?"

"Skipton"

"But, ..., you're going the wrong way!"

"Well ..."

So begins yet more explaining another round of madness instigated by the chief sadist, Stuart. To be honest I'm not sure who's madder, Stuart for coming up with these routes or us for heading out on them. Whatever, the resulting stares tend to be one of either incredulity or pity. I don't know which is worse.

Getting ready before the off

That morning nineteen of us had left Stuart's shop under bright sunshine. Actually eighteen, Emma was late, as usual. From the off the pace was lively and even before we had pulled out of the estate a group of five had a gap of a hundred metres. No point in me being there I'd just blow up, take it steady. Except that the pace wasn't steady, it was brisk and before long we've hauled in one of the five. A few kilometres later and we haul in another. "That's Mike". Now I'm worried, an ex-racer he normally leaves me standing, I'm going too fast.

At the top of the first off-road I decide to ease off and Mike slowly increases the gap between us. His place is taken by a couple of local lads out for a short ride. We leap-frog each other taking turns to open gates until our routes part. Now alone I head over the moor until a nature break and a drink allow another two riders to join me. For a while we are caught up in the Trailquest that is part of Malham show but soon we split, they are much faster than ourselves. On the descent to Arncliffe Cote there's a rider fixing his bike, it's Mike. "Hit a rock and punctured!" He'll pass me later.

Descending to Arncliffe Cote

I wait at the bottom gate for one of the two riders to catch up and we ride on up the dale. I've descended but not climbed the next bit of off-road and I stop at the bottom to get some food in me and a bit of drink. I think I might be walking this as it's quite steep, the other rider is on a CX bike and is already walking. Somehow I manage to keep going, it isn't that bad and by the time I'm at the first gate the other guy isn't in sight. By the next gate I stop to take a shot of some ponies and still no sign of him so I press on.

At the end of the track I surprise a roadie who thought for a moment I'd caught him up riding along the road! We chat for a while then he carries on to Stainforth as I turn right towards Penyghent and the descent of Long Lane. There's no-one in sight now and I push on towards Feizor.

Near the top of the track is a pile of cartons with water, bananas and packets of crisps put out by the trail faeries - one of the riders behind lives here. I see a rider dropping off the road, must be Mike catching me up. I grab a banana and head over to the cafe at Feizor. Coffee and a toasted tea-cake ordered, it's not Mike but Stuart that pulls up. "Care to join me for a coffee sir?", "Don't mind if I do."

Lunch at Feizor

The two riders who'd caught me earlier turn up and order a larger meal then the rider who we'd overtaken earlier rode through without stopping. "Four ahead of us" says Stuart. He's first away and a couple of minutes later I'm off. Except for a short meeting with Stuart again I won't see another rider in the event until I finish.

The first narrow BW has been strimmed so there's no dancing around avoiding nettles and briars. Not so the second and as I get to the clapper bridge I have to wait for a walker to reel in his extendable dog lead and then wait for his wife to dawdle across the bridge: "Only enough room for one way traffic love.". The next clapper bridge is one I've not ridden in this direction before and there's a slab missing which makes it interesting.

I'm in limestone country now and the heat of the day is making itself felt. I keep seeing Stuart about five minutes ahead of me which at the pace we are going is a kilometre or slightly further, no way I can catch him without going in to the red. Ride my own ride. Soon I'm heading round to Ling Gill and then up on to Cam Road. I ride for a while with a couple of guys touring on the northern part of the Pennine Bridleway: "I'm from Surrey, not quite so hilly down there!". Eventually it's time to move on and I take the descent down to Newby Head. I'm counting down the big climbs left, one is just in front of me and I take it steady knowing that it's basically downhill after this to the next refreshment stop.

Traversing Great Knoutberry Hill

Low gear, a bit of food and I'm dropping down to the top of Arten Gill. I walk the short climb up from the gate to start the traverse round to the Coal Road. This is an old cart track but one strip is hard packed singletrack and it's brilliant fun to blast along. A dog walker takes care of the last gate before the tarmac and then it's a blast downhill. I get to The Moorcock Inn just as Stuart is leaving, he'll gain time on me from here to the end as I take extra stops.

A drink of orange and some crisps then I'm on my way again and across the border in to Cumbria. I'm not sure where the bridleway back over towards Hawes leaves the road but it turns out not to be hard to find.

What looks from the map as being a hard climb turns out to be anything but and I just sit and spin until I get to "The Water Cut" a piece of art installed on the moorland next to the PBW. This is one of the few sections of the route I've not ridden before, Cath and I had ridden part way along from the Hawes end before turning and dropping down the PBW back to the Moorcock.

The Water Cut (with attention seeking bike in front)

Hell Gill looks an interesting limestone gorge, at least it's bridged unlike the other becks which provide a variety of entertainment in their crossing. (Cath bivvied at the Water Cut and there was heavy rain overnight, where I was crossing ankle deep water she had to deal with thigh and waist deep crossings.) Finally I'm back on familiar ground, it's still uphill but the angle eases. Finally I'm at the high point but there's no easing as the track soon drops steeply through old quarry workings then straight down the nose of the fell. I just manage to spot and count five tracks in the wet grass, I'm sixth on the road(trail).

Soon enough I'm on the road and heading in to Hawes. There's a big queue outside the chippy so it's the cafe and a coffee and panini - cheese, tomato and pesto, it turns out not to sit too well on my stomach. The plan is to be away by 1800 and it's a minute before that when I set off. There's a bit of drizzle falling but not enough to justify putting on my jacket as I'll overheat.

The only times I've done this climb have been on a road bike so it's a matter of just keep plodding along until I plunge down the descent to Semer Water and up the other side. This is the penultimate climb and the only other bit I've not done before. A bit of cramp forces me to walk short sections until once again I'm on familiar territory and an easing in the angle. Even with a headwind it's a quick blast across the top and down to Kidstones and time for a quick bite. It's now 1925, with luck I'll be starting the final climb in just over an hour.

There's 20Km of road before then plus a little detour around the back of Swinden Quarry and it becomes properly dark while I'm on that. Just the last climb to do now, no way I'm riding it my legs are too tired. Just before the top I put on my waterproof, better to do it now than in the wind. In the mirk I can't see the holes in the track and keep dropping in them so walk a section until the track improves. The beck is a bit deep so detour that and push on through the rocky section until I arrive at the sleepers across the boggiest section, just track now.

Push on in to the wind, even when the angle eases I still have to work at it then finally each pedal stroke gains more ground and I begin to move up through the gears. Suddenly everything goes black as I drop out of the cloud and my light isn't being reflected off the water droplets. The downside is that it's beginning to rain quite heavily. I know that I'm turning to be with the wind shortly so it's not a concern. Just the last track down to Halton East to negotiate and it's a bit muddy then it's just road.

As I get in to Embsay the heavens open, I really wouldn't want to be riding in the other direction it's bad enough going with the flow. Through town and there's no-one about, up the ramp by the station and in to the finishing straight. I pull up outside Stuart's workshop at 2225 It's taken 14hrs25mins, I'd an optimistic target of 14hrs so pretty pleased with that. The first rider back managed 12hrs5mins.

Here's the Strava bit ...

Yorkshire Dales 300

There's a bike outside the shed, I push at the door and a voice says "There's three of us in here", "Any room?", "Maybe". The three are laid out lengthways in the shed but there's space to lie down across the opposite end.

Bivy bag out, strip, get into dry clothes and into the bivy. It's 0045 I've been up since 0300 yesterday and riding since 0800. I'm knackered.

Some pre-start nerves showing.

The second running of the Yorkshire Dales 300 ITT was proving to be a little harder than last year's affair, an extra twenty kilometres of mainly off-road riding at the start meant that getting to resupply points before they shut meant pushing hard.

I'm mostly on my own, occasionally I'm with another rider but generally there's no-one else in sight so I'm left to ride at my own pace conscious of the middle 'T' - time. A rider passes me descending in to Coverdale but he's too strong for me to keep pace with and the elastic snaps. Soon after my gears begin making an awful noise which no amount of fettling will deal with. It's only after riding through a deep puddle that the noise stops and the penny drops - the chain needs oiling. A cheeky request at a Buckden cafe and the chain gets a healthy dose of 3-in-1 oil which does for the rest of the ride.

The weekend's forecast had changed almost daily, the latest had given showers in the afternoon. Heading up from Kidstones the first of them passed over, not too heavy but you definitely needed cover. A few more showers in and around Castle Bolton then on the top of Harkerside Moor a big shower hit. With only descending to do I'm getting cold.

I get to Dales Bike Centre five minutes after they "have shut" but Stu knows we are coming and is keeping the cafe open a little longer, ace man. I'm surprised to see some of the fast guys just leaving, I didn't think I was that close to the front. Once inside a look at my GPS stats shows why: an average moving speed of 15.5kmh with just 32 minutes of stops. A bit of that will have been dealing with gates, oh and the chat with the farmer at Thornton Rusk. Coffee and soup hit the spot while the rain subsides.

Mike (who would eventually finish third) at Dales Bike Centre cafe. Stu having a giggle.

Heading up Fremington Edge I get a slight spasm - cramp! I don't want a repeat of last year so a different strategy: straight off the bike and walk until I feel better. It just so happens that I'd have been getting off and walking a few metres later anyway and it's the top gate before I begin riding again. It continues like this for the rest of the day, twenty minutes or so riding then a bit of a spasm so walk but at no point am I incapacitated with a full attack.

I can see clearly now the rain has gone!

Mike (the rider who'd passed me in Coverdale) passes me again at top of the descent to Langthwaite and I don't see him again - he rides through the night to finish in third.

About to descend to Langthwaite

Rainbow from Great Pinseat

I carry on over Great Pinseat and am approaching the descent to Gunnerside Gill when another rider catches up with me. This time I find the right line, except it's too hard for me so I walk it all. The ride out along the gill edge is as good as ever and then down to the pub in Gunnerside. It's taken three hours to do the 20Km from Dales Bike Centre to here. A couple of quick pints of orange and water then I'm on my way.

My new companion decides to stop near the top of Buttertubs Pass to have something to eat and it's the last I see of him. The blast down the other side is chilly in the evening temperatures and it's a relief to pedal along to Bainbridge. I see some lights on the climb up the Roman Road, soon it will be my turn.

Despite it being a further distance to this point than last year I feel much fresher but even so there's no way I can ride through the night so I need somewhere to bivy.

It's half four and someone's alarm goes off. It's quite light outside and the four of us make our preparations to get going. No hanging around, the midges see to that. One lad's away then a few minutes later two of us head off. We end up riding the rest of the day together.

Pennine Bridleway bridge over the Ribble.

The climb over Great Wold is a push, the descent on a rigid bike interesting. The last rider from the overnight stop passes us at Ribblehead but stays just within sight until Feizor. Timing now is critical, too quick and the cafe at Feizor won't have opened so take it steady whilst still making progress. Drop off from the limestone plateau and then it's the lovely lanes into Wharfe and around Austwick, I even manage to ride the clapper stone bridge usually it's blocked by walkers. We get to Feizor at 0845 and the cafe doesn't open until nine. A minute later and they've opened! Coffee and full English, good portions too.

Ali and Dave having breakfast in Feizor cafe

The young lad is having saddle problems - the top section has unbonded from the post! While he's finding a workaround we carry on. Climb, descend, climb, descend. Although it doesn't feel like it we are  grinding down the remaining distance. Rewater and an ice-cream in Malham and we are a group of three again and ride together to the end.

The final climb up on to Barden Moor is a walk for all three of us until finally the angle eases and though there is still some climbing to do it's nothing to what's gone before. We enjoy the moorland singletrack then it's just a blast down the estate track to the road, one section of farm track and it's just road to the end.

Once on the road I find some energy in my legs and it's hammer time, push on as fast as possible in to the headwind slowing only for the final hill. There's some sort of fair/concert going on in Skipton High Street so a bit of local knowledge to get round it and we are in the final straight.

We roll into the yard together. "Well done" says Stuart "joint eighth." Final time was 31hrs53 almost three hours quicker than last year.

Anyway, here's the facts and figures ...

 

Yorkshire Dales 200, 2015 Edition

"If we hear they've found a body of a mountain biker we'll know who it is."

The barman's words were muffled in the mist, I was crossing Foul Moss on the Occupation Road and it did not look good.

The Yorkshire Dales 200 is billed as the little brother of the YD300. I had done the latter as my first ITT last year taking part in the group start. Just ten riders finished. The first running of the YD200 took place in October last year and the route will change each year. As a preparation ride for this year's YD300 it seemed like a good objective.

As ever rides of this nature are useful for learning and I was keen to try out some changes and strategies in several areas:

1. Ride speed: rather than try and push it all the time I was looking at a steadier pace with fewer and shorter stops. 
2. Food: this follows on from the first strategy in spend as little time refuelling, don't carry loads. 
3. Kit: with it being summer I was looking at an ultra-light setup. More later.

5am and being the north of England it's already light, some breakfast then ride down to town to start. The first of the market traders are already setting up their stalls. The route heads through suburbia and the first surprise of the day - a deer trots out from one of the wooded gardens, it's a while before it realises I'm there and heads off up the road in front of me until it finds a way off to safety.

Steady away up the first off-road climb up Sharp Haw then a comedy descent (think 1kmh OTBs) through the heather to regain the main track. The following descent is technical for so early in the morning. Back on familiar tracks from testing out different tyres I become damp from spray from the morning dew. Soon I'm at the foot of the climb up Mastiles Lane. Plug away until I feel that it's more effort to ride than push then on over Malham Moor to Stockdale Lane. Every time I ride down this it seems to change, rough skittery sections over limestone bedrock are no longer where I remember them. It's over all too soon as is the next short section of bridleway and I drop in to Settle. No need to reprovision here, head on over the hill to Stainforth.

Feizor tea rooms.

I roll down the concrete road in to Feizor and the tea rooms. I'd spent an hour here on the YD300 - a full english took half an hour or so but then others on the event rolled in and as I'd not seen anyone for many hours ... Today things were to be much quicker, coffee and a butty, get the water bottles refilled and I'm on my way in just twenty minutes. Points #1 & #2 covered but probably should have asked for the bottles to be filled whilst eating. I'd worked out several schedules with a limited number of stops, the only one that I didn't make was at Horton on the return but that was due to the large number of less salubrious looking visitors and I didn't fancy leaving my bike outside the pub.

It's warm and humid now, oppressive even. Quiet old style bridleways through the valley floor then head up on to Sulber Nick and across the limestone plateau following the Pennine Bridleway back down into the valley and over the river. A pair of Oystercatchers sit on the high point of each parapet of the bridge only rising when my wheels rumble across the bridge's deck. On up past Ling Gill, I rarely ride this track in this direction and it surprises me with its steepness. Then it's down the logging road and along to Ribblehead.

Another stop: a cup of tea and a piece of cake along with a chat with the woman running the tea van. This is the most number of people I'll see all day. An easy section now along tracks to Chapel le Dale then road to Twistleton Scar End and another gaggle of people at the ice cream van, I think of stopping but it's too busy.

Viewpoint above Ingleton, but no time to sit down.

A quick repair to my home made bar extension before climbing out of Kingsdale and round to Ireby via the Turberry Road. It is here that the rain starts. At first it is chilling as I'm heading in to the wind and also downhill but once I turn off the A65 towards Barbon it is much more manageable with it on my back.

This is another track I've only ever ridden in the opposite direction. That was in winter, now in summer it is nearly completely overgrown and it's jarring work dodging both snagging vegetation at the sides and slippery rocks under wheels. Eventually it debouches on to the road and I spin along towards Barbon and the whine of motors.

It's the annual Barbon Hill Climb event where drivers race their cars up the driveway of Barbon Manor. I drop down to the village and in to the pub, it will be my last chance of food or drink until Horton. The barman informs me that the bridleway that I should be taking is shut because of the event so I'll have to head round by the road instead.

The Occupation Road connects the heads of Barbondale and Kingsdale and dates from the 1850s and was likely in good repair until misuse by 4x4 drivers led the authorities to ban motorised traffic across it. Too late the damage was done. The western half is still reasonably surfaced and is in similar condition to many other Dales' tracks: mostly pitched stone with some sections flooded or washed out. It is once you head east past the head of Flintergill that things turn nasty.

You just have to cross Flow Moss and Foul Moss to get there.

At first it doesn't seem too bad, a little rougher than what's gone before but also more pools and wheel ruts meaning you have to pick a line. There's even long sections of grass to aid progress. What's the fuss about? Then you get to the junction: just turn left and head downhill in to the dale, all will be well. No, no, no, no, that's not where I'm going. To the right is a section rejected as being too rough for a World Cup DH course, except you are going up it, it leads to a gate. All that is missing is a sign: "Abandon all hope ..."

What looks as if it would be a good line shuts down after a few metres and you have to cross the track hoping to find a way there. The ruts are deeper now and only avoided by riding over skull sized rocks, which only serve to push you ever closer towards the pools. Pools, mirky pools with an oily scum, under their surface myriad dark forms flit around, they might be tadpoles but I'm not sure.

Sometimes it's not possible to avoid to ride through them, I feel the back wheel struggling to break free, more effort and the wheel moves forward leaving a rasping sound. Every time you think you can make good progress a slot, rock or hole put paid to that idea.

All the time over your left shoulder across Dentdale is the next climb up and over Great Wold, impossibly far below is a sliver of tarmac connecting what you hope is the end of this track and the start of that one.

By now even the bike is groaning, protesting at the effort but the end is in sight. A few bad line choices requiring a dismount and finally I'm on the renovated last mile. Time to fly!

The Occupation Road does this to a man!

Freewheeling down the road from White Moss I look up at the dark hillside, a black line that cuts across it frowns back.

The climb over Great Wold is a long push today at least until the angle starts to ease. The recent rains haven't reinstated the puddles and bogs here so quick progress is made across the shoulder of Whernside until the start of the descent. This has been washed out many years ago and is basically redundant water bars with rocks randomly strewn around the path. At the point where the Three Peaks path joins a surprise: the path has been refurbished and it's suddenly much easier going. The becks leading off Blea Moor are nearly dry and it's a matter of picking a line and going for it. I get to Ribblehead and the remnants of today's walkers and realise that I've not seen anyone since leaving the pub in Barbon three and a half hours earlier. Three and a half hours for 30Km, 10Km of which was tarmac.

Push on down the road towards Horton, legs working fine, good power, good cadence. At Horton, crowds of "Engerrlaand!" supporters call for a rethink about a quick bite in the pub and I refill my bottles at the tap outside the public toilets before a midge attack forces me on. I'm not that hungry and have enough food with me to see me to the end which is probably about five hours away now. More road then it's the next to last big climb.

Again I decide that wasting energy on trying to clean the steeper sections covered in storm detritus isn't worth it and walk a couple of hundred metres until the track levels out. I continue like this to the top of the hill, walk the steeper bits and ride when it gets easier. It's starting to darken now with approaching night and rain bearing clouds as I drop down to the road disturbing sheep settling down for the night on the track. A bit of road then the next bridleway down to the valley taking care as the light rain is making the limestone slippy. At the bottom I stop to turn on my lights for the long road section down the valley.

Legs still feeling strong I push on, the miles coming easily. I get to Rylstone and the start of the last big climb. A group of fed up looking cows are at the fell gate and need "encouragement" to let me through. At the start of the first steepening it's off and walk again and as I climb my head begins to drop, it's the first time I've really felt weary all day, not sure if it's a blood sugar drop after eating a handful of Jelly Babies a while back or the cumulutive effect of the day's efforts. All light from the day has gone.

When looking at doing the route I wasn't sure whether I'd be able to "ride through" so had packed a lightweight bivy kit consisting of bivy bag; inflatable sleeping mat; down vest; thermal top and midge net. Again this was partly an experiment, use training rides to learn. The down vest is a very old one which weighs more than my sleeping bag! I've a new one on order along with a smaller tapered dry bag. Total weight for the new setup is under 1Kg. Now that I'm so close to the end I decide to press on.

The top of the moor is in the cloud and it's hard to see some of the track so again it's a mixture of riding and pushing, no prizes for pranging at this juncture, eventually I get to a point where I know it's all rideable. The final drag to the summit takes forever, each bend in the track that I think is the last turns out not to be. At some point the pedalling becomes easier then a bigger gear is needed. The nightlife is out including a hedgehog, we probably both wondered what the other was doing up here. Roll down the track with the occasional rise until the access barrier is reached and I know there's only a couple of hundred metres to the road.

Most of the next couple of miles is freewheeling, a bit of a rise here and there, I've decided to miss out the loop over Embsay Crag - "pointless" says Cath - and I'm soon in town. There's the occasional drunken comment from the late night revellers then it's over, 19hrs. Cath is there to meet me with a celebratory beer. She mentions that I don't look particularly tired even though I definitely feel it.

Really pleased with how it went. An ITT is much different from a group start - even if you intend to ride alone there's always someone catching you up or just ahead ready to be caught so there isn't that sense of just being "there". Going at a steadier pace also helped massively as I didn't get even a twinge of cramp which I've suffered from quite a bit in the past, surprisingly I was pushing harder on the pedals later in the ride than at the start. I didn't even get any post ride cramps either. I also had a good riding to stopping ratio, just 1hr40 stopped out of 19hrs some of which will have been opening gates - another side to riding alone where there's no chance of leap-frogging the gate duties.

Not sure if I got the food completely right: Jelly Babies whilst easy to digest do cause a bit of a sugar spike, well they do if you eat a handful at once! I didn't get chance to try out my bivy system so that will have to wait but again everything that I had and used worked as intended. I'd fitted some new tyres (Bontrager XR2 on the front, XR1 on the rear) which are lighter tread than what I'd been using and while they struggled a bit in certain scenarios they are fast rolling and were fine on most of the ground being covered.

Here's the Strava bit :



The pub looks posh, no place for a wet smelly mountain biker, though the porch is filled with wet walking boots and socks, I head inside. "Come in lad, no sort of a day to be outside". I order a soft drink and some crisps.

"Where have you come from?"

"Skipton"

"On a bike? That's a fair way on't road."

"Err, I'm on a mountain bike."

"Bloody hell! How are you getting back?"

"Riding", I explain my route. His mood changes,

"Occupation Road eh?"

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.

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.