A beautiful day awaited the early risers on Sunday 8th June 2008 as they gathered at Holystone for the reasonably short trip down to the North York Moors. Target today was the village of Castleton, about 6 miles south of Guisborough. We got away at 9:10am after a false start and a short wait for any extra bodies. Making the trip were Terry H whose ride this was, Tim, The Steves and Steve W's pal Michael, back on a bike after a long illness. Well, he rides an On One Inbred hardtail, but I suppose it's a bit like a bike.

With only five legal seats in the GollyVan^® Terry kindly offered to provide the extra transport, so he took himself down! Must get the "odd" drivers compensated at some stage if they're using their own cars, especially if they're travelling alone. Perhaps we are, after all I've said and preached in the past, headed towards some kind of regular subscription setup - dunno, it's not what I wanted.

We landed at Castleton at 10:30 ish and started the ride at 10:50am under a clear sky and with little sign of a breeze. Too hot. God, first decent day's weather and I'm whinging about it already. Anyway, the reason we finally ended up down here is that we've been treating most of the rest of the country like our own glorious Northumberland, where the ground has been sodden for a year now, and we are well aware that bike tyres don't help much to preserve the trails, although as I've always claimed, we do flatten a lot of horse hoof damage which can't be bad. Much of the erosion you see in the wilds now happened before the current Mountain Bike explosion and was simply down to walkers over many, many years, so bollocks to the whining Ramblers.

What? NMBC with a map? Committee meeting

She is, she's naked! That Man Track Stand again a Blue Arrow

Actually that's a bit unfair, as I know that there are three Ramblers in the UK who also like a bit of MTB action. So that just makes them two-faced gits who want it all ways, I suppose.

We parked on a hill on the edge of the village, so we would only have to ride the rest of the way up, instead of all the way. That idea disappeared in a puff of tyre smoke as Terry led us down a few metres to make sure we were at the bottom first. Then we started uphill with a vengeance. Most of the early stuff was tarmac, but very minor country lanes with hardly a car to bounce off.

And it wasn't long before we got onto the green and brown stuff, although by that time poor Michael was already knackered and beginning to wonder why he'd come on this ride. We tried to make him feel at ease, however, although that stopped short of pushing him up the hills. It meant we were probably a bit more leisurely than usual, which in this heat was no bad thing, as we swanned around the moors looking for the next decent downhill stretch. There were plenty of those lying secretly between the tarmac joining bits and the ground was good and firm, at last. It was also plenty technical, not unlike the Crags at Thrunton, with boulder-sized rocks (boulders?) scattered all over the place to make sure the trail held your attention.

     

The quicker you went, the harder it got to miss every potential accident, and today it was the Young 'Un, Tim, whose turn it was to provide the best of the action. He managed to total himself not thrice, but four times over the top on various tricky sections, to be matched near the end by the Gollum with a nice slo-mo Flying W after trying to be clever by overtaking Tim. Prick.

There were a few mechanicals as the day went by, but only one puncture. That went the way of Michael, who wasn't even on the bike at the time! Inexplicably, he was pushing the On One over a rock pile to start on a smooth bit when his tyre just let go! And the mighty Joe's No Flats couldn't even stop it going down, necessitating a new tube to get it rolling again. Proper mystery that one.

 

Tim's mechanical event was the loss of the joining screw on the guide plates of his front derailleur. We tried a couple of little zip ties through the plates but that didn't last long. He managed to complete the ride by ignoring the problem.

Terry's turn came when his Avid Juicy Fives on the Fusion Floyd decided to start randomly grabbing his back wheel. We'd wondered about heat expanding the brake fluid, but although it was a hot day for us humanoids, the ground temperature wasn't that high and brake fluid is pretty HT stuff anyway, so that's another mystery still on-going. He got them eased off by squeezing hard on the anchors on a very fast tarmac drop but that was two thirds of the way around our chosen route. Tim seemed to recall having the same bother with his Juicies (you know what I'm talking about, fool) and the same remedy working for him.

The Steves on their respective Specialised FSRs (a Comp under Steve W and Expert with Steve B - no, NOT Pro's you silly Gollum) and the Old Fool's new Trek Fuel EX8 were more-or-less flawless after the whole squad got the latter's Fox Float RL forks fettled at the lunch stop so they didn't "clonk" any more.

The day got hotter and the ride got longer, although it was still a short one but verticals always make it seem longer, and especially for poor Michael. While Terry and Steve B were racing each other up the climbs closely followed by Tim and Steve, Michael and I sauntered along behind for a nice moorland walk. Couldn't do this without my super new Trek Zimmer, of course. As we neared the final two climbs, the last of which would be the worst of the day and a walk for everyone as it topped out, we decided to spare Michael any more pain and suggested he take the flattest way back to Castleton. Steve W offered to stay with him and we separated at this point. Not long after, on what I'm guessing was Fryup Edge, Terry, Tim, Steve B and the Gollum found themselves, well - not lost exactly, but certainly exploring. How come poor Golly managed to get stuck out in the wilds with three quarters of the ruthless Team MidAirCrisis hotshots? They sure made me suffer trying to keep up, but by the time we'd discovered a new Third World Country and crossed its borders a few times it became fun. And the final singletrack drops were fast and furiously followed with only Tim and Golly taking a tumble each.

When we got back to the cars, Steve W and Michael had been resting there for about 10 minutes in the blazing sunshine. We loaded up as quickly as we could then descended into the village to seek a nice cool iced cream at the Teashop, which we enjoyed on a handy wooden bench before the dash back home, arriving at 7:00pm on the dot.

A good, hard ride, but not for out-of-form riders or hill-haters! I'll try to reconstruct the route after I've seen Terry for his map. Terry himself was a little disappointed at the amount of tarmac stretches we had to cover, but the best singletracks were up there with the good 'uns. There are a few videos which only prove, as if I didn't know, that bike-mounted cameras are sh/t, but I'm gonna hit you with an example or two here soon coz I'm a git.

And here they are!         Goattrack        Lost!        GollyCrash        Poser (for proof)        Meadow Drop       

Terry SteveB and Tim Finish        What You Lot Lookin' At?        Tim on Last Scenic Climb   

Keep watching and if you fancy a ride out with us, drop us a line here: bailout@midaircrisis.org.uk