The usual suspects were out this cool, clear Thursday night, 8th November 2007, the group comprising Arthur, Ian A, Keith, and Paul C from the west and Craig, Derek, Terry H and Terry K from the other end, meeting in the middle of the Great Lime Road at 7.05 pm. Rain late afternoon hadn't deterred any of them and we set off like a swarm of fireflies around Killy Lake up to Camperdown. A bit of high speed singletracking to the railway line and through the field beyond got us to Sandy Lane Roundabout in double-quick time. Very conscious of the clock now, we are.

Primary Objective was to either head straight out into the strong westerly wind or duck under it. We managed to accomplish both, except for a short exposed stint later on. Being good and dark already, the normally reserved-'til-dangerous Gosforth Park trail was the first stop-off, with the Speedian yet again not disappointing us, choosing an even more mental route than normal through Machete Land. And as so often happens, the party managed to become fragmented behind him, although Group Two, famous for getting lost throughout history, did manage to catch sight of the tail lights in the distance eventually. Then it was their turn to get to the front, by pure accident, and it took a call from Speedy to Gollum to get us back together in the middle of Sandy Lane. During the chase, however, poor Derek had managed to dump himself over the bars of that terrifying rigid, singlespeed Cannondale F1 when he led us down a pothole. He put a brave face on it, but I think his shoulder was craving a bed in Casualty. Here's, err, a bridge and a couple of wheels

With Ian leading us off the road back into bush again there were a lot more dismounts and close shaves and screams as we weaved between the closely grouped trees. Arthur managed to upside-down himself but like Derek shrugged it off. Many of these are young with slender trunks, (no, the trees, not Arthur) but it could become very demanding when they grow a bit as it's already mental, at Speedian's speeds, even in daylight. But oh, so enjoyable.

We chose the route that forced us to do some fence-hopping, eventually ending up deep inside the Garden Centre grounds, popping out onto the Great North Road above the hotel. Golly pointed north, trying to figure out a reasonable ride end to better suit Paul, Terry and Derek who had still a few miles each to do when the rest of us would be almost home. With that in mind we headed along through Hazlerigg to get into the Country Park at Brunton, another fave stamping ground of Derek and Ian.

It was Ian who took the front again, enabling Derek to rest a bit further back as we hit the trees again. This place is very tricky at any time, with the six inch high cut-off stumps littering the trails wherever you go. I was lucky - I had Keith in front who warned me of every one. Cheers, Keith. Whoever was directly behind my precious got the first warning as we entered the bushes, but no more after that as concentration set in, coz I can't multi-task and I don't know a Gollum that can.

Amazingly Ian stopped a few times to allow catch-ups, so we all got through as a single bunch for once, but not without even more near disasters as we covered a few hundred metres of previously uncharted wilderness. Then we reached Craig's Dump, so named after his last episode at the end of the timber boardwalks that cross the bog here when he decided to let his arse count the thorns on a bracken bush. Mebbe the word "dump" is the wrong choice - you thought I was gonna say something completely different, didn't you? Ok Craig's Calamity. Nah? Suggestions welcomed.

The tarmac bridleway carried us through to the Dinnington road and after a short rest and debate on the next direction to take, we were off to take the straight cut up to Wolsington and the old airport area. On from there over the A696 at Bell Air to get onto the dual and singletracks chopping over the end of the main runway, where it looked highly likely we'd suffer a puncture or three following the recent cutting of the hedgerows. Somehow, we got away with it.

The blast down to Ponteland is normally pretty quick, and for the front six it was again. At  the back, Craig and Golly were moving more slowly, having a chat about Craig's new (I hate to say this) Specialized Stumpjumper frame that he grabbed off eBay after deciding a bit of rear-end comfort may be better on some of our rides than his current Rocky hardtail. That'll be about thirty thousand Specialized bikes in the club. Snore. Still, Ford sold millions of Escorts (pure sh@te in my opinion, just like these over hyped Yankee abominations). Having said that, the GollyBible^® does state quite clearly that ANY full suspension bike is better than a hardtail. The Good Book also says you don't need spanners for a hardtail, coz you must have no nuts to be able to ride one. And not only is Craig on the way up to normality, but Arthur is now also thinking about a change of steed, and maybe contemplating a soft back end. Let's hope the trend is catching. (Yes. I know it's personal taste. And I know you can huck a 30 foot road gap on a hardtail. But hey, who's still got his teeth? And why isn't the Downhill World Champion riding one? Answer that one, thicky).

This pick is included just to perpetuate the myth that the Gollum has an arse fetish.

Anyway, the high points of this ride were Craig's constant stoppages for moby comms sessions with his Dad, who was eagerly keeping an eye on Craig's bid for a pair of Fox Terralogic forks on eBay. Unfortunately, while we were stopped at the Airport for a drink and a bite, he was informed that he'd been outbid. Back on the hunt tomorrow, he'll be.

Here's a runway, somewhere

We ducked down behind The Diamond as usual, onto the trail across to Dinnington over the Ranges and blasted along here aswell. Terry H was still a little under the weather with his week-long bug hanging on, but was still plugging along nicely at the front or mid pack, while now it was Derek and Ian who were at the back after the last gate and Keith's bridge jump. And it stayed quick on the rise up to the village, where there's normally a sprint to be first to the turn off for National Cycle Route 10, the Reivers Way. No-one to drop off here tonight, so we all hit the trail and the pace seemed to get even quicker at the front, and that dragged us all along with it.

We reached Wideopen around 9.50 pm and maintained our speed through Weetslade Park. When we reached the Dudley to Sandy Lane road, Derek turned left while Paul and Terry H turned right to speed up their returns home. The rest of us were just about to blast under the Graffiti Arches alongside Camperdown Industrial estate when Keith called a halt. Puncture! Poor lad's been through a fair number of these pests recently, and here we are, almost home, and he gets another. So we set about whipping the rear wheel off his (Specialized - yuk, another one!) and finding the hole. No messing about though, as Keith immediately produced a spare tube - to hell with patches tonight, he said. It didn't take him long to find the culprit, either. See pic for a good un of the little beggar. I wonder where that one came from - Callerton, maybe?

crap Stumpy, nice wheels Ian (with his poxy Stumpy in the background - another one more) polishes his - chain tool?

and the second of Keith's little perishers

And just to put the icing on it, didn't he find another, just as big, a bit further round the tyre? Anyway, tube in, wheel on - home in another ten minutes with no more problems, except for a nameless person who almost bit the railway tracks as we were crossing them when his front wheel dug into the deep stone chippings next to the line!

We got back to Dial Cottage around 10.00 pm, Craig and Golly reaching the Cave at 10.10. Ride about 23 miles, 28 or 29 for Derek, Paul and Terry 2. Beautiful night, plenty of exercise, good amount of fun in the trees (consenting adults).

 

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