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Yep, wee bit unusual to have a "Guest Writer", but as we couldn't be in two places at once last Sunday, and because rides with these lads (and lasses) are becoming a regular feature, here's Reiver Tom's account of their ride:

Greetings fellow reivers, hope you’ve all been enjoying the warm sunshine this weekend. Anyway, back to THE RIDE.

The chosen meeting point for our meander into the wilderness was once again that old favourite Bowes. With the weather set fare and our hearts full of the joys of spring we set off. The first test of the reivers mettle came within minutes - a steep road climb lifted us over the first ridge and continued along until we came to our first gate. THE   RIVER crossing (first one of the day) was uneventful and everyone got across avoiding getting wet, maybe that’s a first.

Once on the other side our intrepid leader doesn’t get us lost. Dave pointed us in the right direction, “meet at the top and wait”  -  we’ve heard those words so many times,  off we went. As usual DEREK and WILLIE were away, like shit off a stick, and were at the top on the ridge before anyone else had put their feet on the pedals. The long hard struggle to the top was rewarded with stunning views of unspoilt, open moorland and instantly  realised, making the effort was worthwhile. After chatting and generally talking bollocks for a while it was time to move. “Keep the wall to your right, don’t go too fast, all meet at the bottom. Willie, stay at the back. Julie, how do you put with him?

We set off. Riding swiftly with the wind behind us we crossed the dry single track effortlessly, avoiding the odd damp patch and rock, when Derek, who apparently shaves his legs (MMMMMM) suddenly stopped and jumped off his bike and shouted “ADDER” (snake in the grass) that’s what an adder is, not Derek. Not wanting to miss the opportunity of seeing a truly wild creature, we interrupted our journey for a few minutes, keeping a safe distance from its gaping jaws I bravely volunteered to take photographs of the beast, just in case no one believed us. After our dangerous encounter with the reptile we carried on to our next regrouping point and waited until everyone was rested and ready to continue. (ED - here's a truly wild creature!)

“Head towards that outcrop of rocks in the distance stop at bottom”, said Dave, We all set off at our own individual pace following the track as it wandered across the moor. Moving steadily on past the outcrop and onto another lower ridge we continued our ride and dropped  off the high moor towards Baldersdale reservoir, crossing to the other side we turned right, into unknown territory.

By now hunger was getting the better of us so it was decided to look for a nice place for lunch. After passing the bird sanctuary and four or five fields, we crossed the river and parked our arses on the bend of a road, where the only sounds you could hear were bloody lawnmowers, cars and horses hooves (peace and quiet of the country side – bollocks).

Fed, watered and refreshed, the trail continued along quiet roads and dusty tracks onto a disused railway line, where we made good time. Unfortunately all good things must come to an end, so when we came up against a wall straddling the path, being the reivers, curiosity got the better of us, Walking around the wall, we realised that we were standing on top of one of the disused parapet of a railway bridge and were looking down into a river valley far below, Willie, Derek and Tom gazed in awe, Julie wouldn’t go anywhere near, and Dave, when he managed to get around the wall and see what we were looking at, he dropped down onto all fours and crawled back around the wall, with the smell of fear wafting almost visibly behind him. Once his ticker had settled we headed off to Barnard Castle for a much needed cup of coffee and a well earned sit down to discuss our next move.

(ED - here's that perishing snake again, but he looks petrified!) The rest of the ride was fairly uneventful, riding along roads and green lanes, trekking across moorland, disturbing the odd bit of wild life and finally dropping back into Bowes on the north side.

A cracking ride, Julie, Willie, Derek, Tom and Dave who didn’t get us lost. PS the suggestion that the club picks up the tab for the five bar meals in the Ancient Unicorn was most welcome. Cheers!

(ED - final comment - good to see our fifty pees being spent wisely!)

Sort This Out!

Got three e-mails at the end of April - one from Tom, one from Gavin and one from Dave H telling me about the ride for Sunday, 30th April as follows:

        Tom)      Start at Craik Forest

        Gavin)    Start at Lewisburn, Kielder

        Dave)    Start at Alwinton

So, we went to Chopwell to save any further confusion!

Here's what the Reivers ACTUALLY did, courtesy of Guest Writer Tom Dodds:

Greetings, fellow REIVERS. Hope you're enjoying the weekend weather. Our chosen part of the countryside to invade this weekend was to be Alwinton - an area visited regularly by the REIVERS and other cycling groups. (ED - bloody good job MidAirCrisis didn't head for Craik or Kielder, init!)

Tom, one of the older members of the club, was chosen to LEAD the ride on this occasion, so we knew we were in for a fantastic day in the saddle. His decision not to tell anyone the route or take a map was a master stroke. “Regroup at the dustbins”, and with those words ringing in their ears, the REIVERS set off on another epic journey into the wilderness not knowing whether they would return.

Turning left from the car park we made our way up the valley towards Kidland forest, passing Clennell hall and an iron age settlement. For our first regrouping point at the bins, Gavin and Mr Birch leading the way and Tom at the back, thinking of a way to slow the buggers down. Warmed up and refreshed, we headed on to our next meeting point - the gate way to Kidland forest, our spirits lifting slowly as the weather improved. As we approached the gate the first challenge to the ride LEADER and his authority came. “Can we go this way?” - taking a leaf out of fatboyreiver's book he ignored the request and carried on up the valley towards the dreaded Whiteburn Shank climb. Dereck was the first
reiver to make an attempt for the summit and failed miserably. One by one they blew it and fell by the wayside, gasping for air like fish out of water. Only one REIVER completed the climb (HA HA). There's still a little bit left in the
auld dog yet.

Taking a short rest as ye do when you've just climbed up Whiteburn Shank from bottom t top without stopping, eh Willy gave us time to have a look at the scenery and wild life, hills, tree's, pumas, goats, sheep and loads of sheep
shit (pity those with out a mudguard).

Refreshed and ready for the first down hill of the day we set off cock a hoop towards Uswayford crossroads, our next regrouping point. From there the only choice allowed was an attempt at the border ridge - a hard climb for the first kilometre but well worth the effort. Everyone set off at their own pace, which wasn't very fast, so we all managed to arrive at roughly the same time (is that another first?).

By now everyone was buzzing. The grey clouds had lifted and the sun occasionally shone through . The Cheviot, to the west, looked so inviting - we haven't been on top for a long time - so tempting… maybe another time.

“Fancy lunch on Windy Gyle?” “Yeh, let’s go for it.” Another stiff climb and we're there, higher than a lot of people ever get. Endorphins, so they say. The view from our lunch table was spectacular. Cheviot to the west, Scottish borders
to the north and the pennines to the south. Everyone seemed to be enjoying where they were and didn't notice the horde making its way up the trail. There were loads of the buggers (well about thirty) stretched out along the ridge like
a centipede. Finishing lunch, Gavin took a few photos and then we moved on. There wasn't enough room for everyone at the top and they were still arriving as we left (the Swaledale outdoor pursuit club have discovered Northumberland), heading for the street, an ancient drove road thousands of years old.

The descent off Windy Gyle was fast and smooth except for the bumpy bits, which weren't. As we turned onto the street, Julie spotted a couple of the Swaledale lot coming down the trail behind us, which spurred us on even more. By now legs were beginning to tire a wee bit after all the ups and downs and, while negotiating a tricky bit of soft stuff, Julie and Tom took a tumble. A bit bruised and sore we dusted ourselves down and carried on. From that point on, Julie started seeing Yorkshire Puddings on the top of every hill and Tom kept seeing pumas - they must have banged their heads a lot harder than they thought. After an exhilarating drop into the Coquet Valley, and a mechanical breakdown, we made our way down the road to the final climb of the day - the ski slope, which is difficult when you’re fresh and a complete chore when your tired. Mr Gardiner, a new face in the group (sorry, I forgot your first name) made a valiant attempt but couldn't quite get there. The final drop into the town was class and came just at the right moment.

I think everyone enjoyed the ride. So the next time your out in the Cheviots, keep an eye out for Yorkshire Puddings and pumas - they are out there.

Cheers, Willy, Julie, Dereck, Dave B, Dave S, Gavin, Mr Gardiner and Tom the
ride LEADER.

ED - Gavin sent me some great ride photos but they're a "various" collection so I couldn't apply any to this story, sorry.

Have you Killed A BIKE THIEF TODAY?