Thursday 25th February 2010 and a few degrees higher at last, although hanging around at the Cave before the start it still felt mighty cool. The fourteen riders appearing tonight were:

Stewart
Francis
John (New)
Chris K
Jeff
Matt
Jason
Stian
Paul
Terry K
Mick H
Alan
Richy
IanA

Thanks again to Ian A (the Speedian) for keeping track of the membership.

Fresh faces

Good to see Stian back again after a long winter break and this was new man John's first outing with us after a weekend tour with Ian B and Suzanne. Alan was also making his first appearance of the year.

The Gollums' initial thoughts on doing the Ponteland run were quickly quashed, as was his second attempt which was Tunnel and Gateshead, with a more sensible suggestion coming from the Speedian as we'd lost ten minutes due to the inevitable bike maintenance and a few late comers.

A false start had half of us heading away towards the A19 before Terry made a late call and dived into Benton Square to join the path out to the farm where Ian took over at the helm for his customary slippery but rapid charge through the ASDA S-bends beneath the trees. We did the Edge Run at the foot of Rising Sun Hill and regrouped on the wide bridleway before Terry and Matt sped away down towards Hadrian Lodge and then the dash across to the Barking Dog, regrouping again at the start of the Waggonway.

Where's Francis?

At Battle Hill we turned south with half of us following Ian down the grassy bank and the rest staying on the path behind Terry until we joined again on Battle Hill Drive. That's where Speedy became the first mechanical victim of the night with a dreaded puncture. What? You don't know what a puncture is? Oh, then you must be one of the Tubeless Brigade I suppose. Should have stayed on the hard stuff, Ian! We'd almost fixed the holy tube when Francis appeared from the direction of Battle Hill drive. We immediately set up the Francis Watch Rota, determined not to lose the Slippery One again.

We ducked under the Coast Road and Terry led down the East Bank of the Dene. This was really closed up tonight with overgrown gorse and bramble, and the trail was extremely sticky. It seemed quite a while before first Chris then the others joined him at the Howdon end, with "Ouches" and "Ayahs" audible from behind until the last man arrived. Somehow no-one slid into the Burn. After a very short rest Ian moved down towards the concrete steps leading to the floor of the Burn, and here the group seemed divided on whether to tackle the known-to-be-dodgy earth chute or the relatively easy steps.

There were 3 or 4 takers for the slope, and tonight it was Mick's turn to suffer a forced dismount half way down. He hadn't even intended to be here tonight but tragic circumstances at work earlier in the week presented him with some unexpected free time. I don't think he was hurt too badly.

That's a Big Boat.

We hammered along to the bottom of Rosehill Bank where Ian led the charge along the Burnside and out to Hadrian Road and paused there again. Through Low Howdon past the Tunnel the drag up to the Royal Quays dual carriageway got rid of any surplus energy and we regrouped just short of it for a decent rest. Then Ian was off again leading over the quick but sticky and heavy ground of the old Gasworks into the back of the new Quays estate. Chris and Terry took over at the front up to the Committee Room, otherwise known as the RQ viewpoint, where Stewart thought he could see Ark Royal parked up at the Marina.

We did our usual swift descent over grass (Ian M will go ballistic when he sees the tyre tracks!) but not until Terry had run straight into a young conifer that had most of him hauled off the Trek. Down on the riverside Stewart was proved right - it was indeed the 'Ark on another courtesy visit to the Tyne - so we cruised up and down behind the perimeter fence marvelling at its bulk. Presently, Terry started to head for the dock bridges and we continued around the Marina and up to the road at the edge of North Shields, before reaching the street leading to the drop down onto the quay side.

That's a torn coat.

Unfortunately, Jason had taken to the pavement here, and while attempting to turn back onto the road had hit a very slimy set of angled paving slabs which had absolutely no grip at all. In fact after he'd picked himself up, he couldn't even stay on his feet without sliding down the things. And, really unluckily, there were a couple of teenage girls hanging out the bedroom window right above him, and they saw it all! So like most of us, he was hurting but there was more pain coming from the embarrassment! He was more worried about ripping his jacket than loose bits of flesh hanging off him.

All we had to do now was freewheel down to the quay side and stop outside the Fish Quay buildings for our food stop. Stewart's time had expired by now so he decided to backtrack home. Terry promised the others we'd be back at the Cave for close to 2200 if we cut off a corner or two, so it was time to head up that awful fish quay bank to the dark and spooky hollows of Northumberland Park. Inside the park gates we waited for the last men up the hill to rejoin, then Terry again in front decided the old way through here was a bit boring, so nipped up onto the grass verge and disappeared behind the trees.

A completely hitherto undiscovered wiggly singletrack then unveiled itself, although most of it was a hard climb over indecently claggy mud. It was dead good and even included a short but steep and possibly life-threatening descent which nobody managed without sticking at least one leg out and paddling sideways. Stian, Matt and Terry were first to accomplish this amazing feat of survival and halted outside Whiptail Bikes to get their breath back as more twinkly LEDs appeared out of the trees, all with gummed-up tyres and tired owners.

We gave ourselves a very necessary rest before continuing through the houses over to the Broadway and the short but sweet single through the Quarry at Marden. Out the other side it was Terry's turn to suffer a slight mechanical as the very worn derailleur, chain, cassette and Mavic freehub all conspired to lock the Trek into bottom gear, but it didn't take long to kick it back into life while the others waited just short of the Ice Rink.

Short route gets the vote.

Through the next few streets and Terry blasted unexpectedly up onto the Metro bridge before we all met again on the other side of Monkseaton Station. Two ways to travel from this point, but after a quick clock check we decided to keep the ride on schedule and miss out the bridleway here through to Hollywell Dene as there were a couple of requests not to be too late back. So Matt and Terry again took off up the main road towards West Monkseaton and were lucky to get through a quick red light that caught out the rest of the group, tee hee.

We were all together again as we hit the fields below Murton Village and with Matt in front, his silhouette produced a massive, black, ghostly shape with the Gollum's 1800 lumens battering into his backpack (careful how you read that) due to the heavy mist lying over the open ground. Another rapid spurt around here got us out to the village in double-quick time. Looking back at the lights coming off the field, it was something like a movie scene, but I can't remember which (it wasn't Jaws though).

We continued up Murton Lane towards New York when Terry sprang another surprise on the front runners by diving off the road onto a sort of footpath-type thing across the fields. Now this bit was sure heavy, sticky going and it took a good while for the late starters to catch up at Boundary Mills. There must have been great relief on a few faces at that point, as we now only had to tootle down the road to Cobalt Roundabout, Holystone Junction and home. Except.

I'm no Mountain Goat.

Terry again had other ideas, and it's always good to finish with some singletracking. So he leapt across New York Road and vanished again through the industrial estate and down into Silverlink. Slowing to make sure the others could see him, he led around the foot of Sundial Hill and onto the Village bridleway into the back of West Allotment. That's where he made a slight error and left the safety of the nice firm bridleway for the mountainous terrain of the adjoining field. Only he hadn't quite gone far enough south! That meant yet another heavy slog over foot-tall lump grass and overgrown bulldozer furrows with more than a few groans ringing out from behind.

So we had to drop down to the terraces of West Allotment again and hoik the bikes over the wire fence. Then we waited to make sure everyone was together while Terry, strangely and mysteriously, angled the Trek straight back towards the field again!

As soon as Speedy had signalled the full regroup, Terry was away again climbing an impossible to climb grassy, muddy, slippery and steep grass bank to the point he thought he was at last time. What a heave this was, and it was to prove our undoing as it took a fair while for everyone to make it up there. At the far side we were back onto the very familiar Siemens Bridleway with only the short blast to the A19 roundabout remaining.

However, so wide was the split between chunks of riders here that we lost track of who was where when we stopped in the middle of the roundabout. That meant, of course, a MidAirRescue was automatically initiated, with Terry going one way back up the singletrack and Ian going through the houses looking for the missing Chris K! They met at the far end where we'd all been together but there was no sign of Chris. They were just about to return to the others when Speedy's mobe chimed in - it was Chris, and he was back at the Cave!

Somehow, Chris, Matt and a few others had got around the other side of this crazy roundabout without us seeing them and had passed us without realising we were still waiting on the opposite side! Anyway, we were all safely back at the cars for just before ten, mission accomplished.