I've done the Yorkshire Dales 300 once before and two
iterations of the 200. In my youth (and later) I rode pretty much everything
there was to ride within a 30 mile radius of upper Wensleydale, road, bridleway,
byway and the odd footpath. So when I entered this years 300 I knew what was
coming. 300k is a long way to ride a bike in a weekend but that's not the
problem. The problem is 7500m of climbing. Its only when you are well into this
route that the unrelenting brutality of this becomes apparent. You seem to be
continuously going up, then down, then back up. Occasionally there is a brief
respite in the form of a section of road or easy trail along a valley bottom or
across a moor but even these tend to feature short sharp climbs that all add to
the toll on your body. To cap it all I was going to do it single speed. I quote the comment in my write up of my 2016 ride on observing a chap on a SS Trek Stache - "My only single speed exploits hereabouts resulted in much pain and suffering and I'd vowed never to try it again..." Of course since then I've done the Cairngorms Loop, Loch Lomond and Trossachs Loop and the Highland Trail on SS so I had no excuse.
And no-one was making me do it so I can't complain. Plus
7500m of climbing equals 7500m of descending! My prep was fairly basic. I'd trained for and rode the Highland Trail then spent the intervening two months
doing a few bike rides. The weekend before I'd ended up doing 210k on my gravel bike (also SS) which was probably a bit much but zero issues (or knee pain) doing this suggested my form was adequate. Digs were booked for the night before, weather was
scrutinised, bags were packed and I was off.
Stuart told me mine was the best bike, but he also rides a Jones so don't take it personally. It was nice to chat to a few folk at the start as well as
drink some of Stuart's coffee and eat the laid on breakfast. Around 20 odd
people had turned up which seemed a bit light given what was on offer. As well
as the 300k off-road (mostly) route, there was a 200 mile(!) road route available.
I'd given serious thought to doing this as it only had 6000m of climbing and
was on tarmac (obviously). In the event I figured I should stick to my original
plan. 
The start line, typically relaxed.
After a dreich start in Burnley where I'd stayed, it had
brightened up somewhat. I've never started an ITT in the rain and I nearly did
this morning as a shower came through just before kick off. More were in the
forecast but I was fairly relaxed about this given the mild temps. So it began
- uphill, downhill, uphill, downhill, repeat. I was making a concerted effort
to keep the pace down so no singlespeed screaming past others. In fact I spent the first 50k largely focused on my pace, drinking plenty and nibbling as I went along. I was swapping
places with Steve Large and a chap on an in-vogue Stooge klunker. Both seemed
to be pacing off each other (and me) but I stuck to my own unique pace in a bid
to avoid an repeat of my Highland Trail day 1 woes.
The trails as far as Coverdale are fairly benign (apart from
the climbing) which served as a good warm up. I'd vowed not to push on road until the Buttertubs pass however the road up Coverdale was typical of the Yorkshire Dales - in theory a steady climb but a steep descent midway lead to a double arrow section which had me onto shanks pony to avoid too much effort. The trail fun began on the Starbotton cam road. I'd caught Steve and Stooge man here but they left whilst I snacked. The trail is also YD standard - bumpy but short grass - but this lead into something of a rarity hereabouts, a nice narrow rocky section followed by a more typical rough track descent into the village. Don't do this
route on a gravel bike as such descents would be a pain and poor compensation
for the effort needed to get to the top.
Up the road (easy bit!) to Buckden
and my first stop for drink and some food. The cafe that had caused so much
upset in 2016 was shut and the guy behind the shop counter different from the
chap who had the meltdown when faced with four hungry bikepackers. He had
a horrific toupe arrangement and looked like he was no stranger to the bottom
of a bottle but was very friendly. I sat out for a while eating and drinking. Four twenty-something roadpackers appeared looking for food. All their kit was mint - a far cry from me in my twenties on a hard ridden bike, mis-matched clothing and cheap panniers on the inevitable Nimrod rack. I watched stooge guy ride the climb out of the village but I was happy to take a breather - all part of my tactics to take it easy over the first 100k.
I can get up the climb out of Buckden normally but not on SS. However I stomped
up in reasonable order, got up the road section on the pedals and pushed more on the climb up
to Stake Moss. It seems I can hit that single speed rhythm without any drama
these days....
Top of the Stake Road.Looking up to Cam fell, I'd be there in a few hours. Semer Water below.
Amazingly the sun was shining. We'd had a few sprinkles of
rain and there were some large clouds to the north but this, and the dry trails, made for pleasant going. I was really enjoying this. As I've said elsewhere on this blog, I love the Yorkshire Dales, and I love the riding. After the battles of the Highland Trail it was fab, even with the hills. On the long descent to Carpley Green, I vowed I would return for a week doing some nice day rides and sample the many fine local ales.
After a short sharp grind out of Askrigg was one of the routes rare easy bits. As I twiddled along I became aware of a road bike approaching. As she passed the rider suddenly hailed me and I recognised her from the start - one of the 200 mile road riders. I returned her encouraging shout as she rode away effortlessly. The easy riding didn't last and once again it was a max effort climb, albeit to one of my favourite trails in Wensleydale. Its blessedly easy on smooth grass, contouring above the valley bottom. Best of all I had a tailwind and it was sunny. In fact I was overheating as I'd deliberately over-dressed for this - another tactic to keep the pace down, as well as in prep for riding overnight. A bloke on an ebike whizzed past and chatted
for a bit before whining off ahead. I was content to cruise, knowing this
respite would be brief.
Castle Bolton was busy with tourists but I rode straight on through, missed the turning and then pretty much pushed the whole climb out of the dale. I was aware I was a bit dry mouthed and feeling a bit wabbit as a result. Then my water ran out. Many burns were dry after the fab summer so this was of mild concern. Fortunately, after the fly down to Apedale, I came across the burn in full flow. Thankfully I'd stashed my filter as although there are plenty of water sources
en-route, I'm suspicious of drinking from streams given the number of sheep
hereabouts. I brimmed the bladder, drank my fill then filled it again. Stooge man appeared looking a bit wrecked. It is one of those
routes where you are inevitably going to have ups and downs (like the terrain).
Its just a case of keep on eating, keep on drinking and try not to go to
hard. Despite me having a wee dip, I was basically fine and dealing with the endless climbing with only a token amount of grumbling.
Swaledale looked sunny but dark clouds loomed to the north. It's funny really. That morning as the rain came down I'd psyched myself for doing the whole route in water proofs. Then as it became apparent it was going to be dry, I'd gotten used to the idea of having a dry run so on seeing the onset of the inevitable rain, I felt a bit glum. Oh well, I had the gear and I was too far in to bail so it's just a case of keep on keeping on.
I was happy as I finished the long descent down the side of the dale and rolled
into the Dales Bike Centre cafe. It was in full flow and Steve had just placed
his order. I hope this alfresco dining
continues beyond pandemic world as its far nicer sat on picnic tables under a
marquee than crammed into a small cafe, especially if you have 115k's of effort
wafting from your body. I chomped my way through much food thankful that I had
plenty of appetite and hopefully energy for what I thought would be the hardest
bit of the route. Stooge man turned up soon after complaining of feeling knackered. This was a common theme as several others turned up, all complaining of the climbing. As I'd said in one of my 200 write ups - even the downhills have uphills!
Top of Fremington Edge looking south to where we'd come from
over Wensleydale.
There is nothing like a 250m climb on a full stomach but
this further highlights why we should all be riding single speed. As soon as it
got steep I walked which doesn't lead to any belly upset, unlike if you were
trying to grind a granny gear. The moor up top was gloomy and rain was
a-coming. Hurst looked identical to when I first encountered this remote and high level hamlet, 35 years before. It's desolate and like something out of a distant epoch but his is one of the nice things about the Dales. For all the influx of rich retired people and tourists, its still retained many of its original folk (who can trace their ancestry here for many generations) as well as its character. This is largely absent in much of the Scottish Highlands with many people you encounter an incomer. That said, the clearances are substantially to blame for this, eradicating village life which is a key feature of the Dales. In Yorkshire, as in much of the North of England, the farmers own the land, and have done so for generations.
The descent into Langthwaite is a fave of mine. There is a lot of lead mining detritus here and part of the descent is almost quarry like - a taste of things to come!
Up over a low moor, rain coming in and more threatening, then down to surrender bridge, Steve in sight. Riding up the steady gravel road to
Level House led to further memory laning as this area is all a key part of the Swaledale Marathon route which I'd done several
times in my youth. From Level House the climbing continues into Merry field, an early example of industrial destruction of
the countryside, and looking particularly grim in the cloud. This area is the center of a vast lead mining industry which peaked in the eighteenth and nineteenth
centuries and evidence of it is everywhere from the old buildings that housed
smelters and pumps, to the levels and hushes used to extract the precious lead.
The crux descent. This is a hush - all man made. They would
build a dam at the top of a slope, direct burns into it to collect a large
volume of water, then breach it so the water ran down the hill scouring out all
in its path, exposing the galena - the lead ore. This was repeated until you
got these large man-made gorges. It's only when you get right into it that you
realise there is no burn at the bottom. It's pretty tricky too. I rode this
clean on the fat bike a few years ago, but whether it was more eroded now or I was being more
careful, I walked a couple of bits and was mighty careful on the rest. At the bottom I drank deeply again and spied a burn coming out of an old level (a mine shaft that goes into the hill horizontally rather than vertically.) I figured this should be fresh without filtering so filled up again. Then a
fun ride down Gunnerside Gill, me grinning from ear to ear as the dark clouds had broken and it was dry again, followed by a long section of road riding.
I'd passed Steve taking photos on the way up to Level House
so was a might concerned when he didn't appear by the time I'd finished up an
evening snack at the foot of up the buttertubs road. The cloud was back on
this fearsome climb which I walked a fair bit of. I noticed another figure ahead but couldn't work out who
this was. Steve had assured me earlier that only Rich Rothwell and another superfast guy were ahead so this dark figure was a mystery. I didn't really care as I was only interested in my own ride but I did wonder if one of these pocket rockets had blown up. Until I realised this climb was on the road route as well so the person was likely one of the roadies. Of greater note was the fact that this is also the halfway point and I felt
fairly pleased with myself to be still going strong and about an hour up on my
2016 ride.
The buttertubs were passed and I peered in, recalling many childhood visits to these natural features so called as they are vertical sinkholes which, due to being cool, were used to store butter on the long trip between the markets in the dales. Finally I topped out and hit the downhill, which is a hoot (45mph.) Once again the cloud was clearing all around
as I got a view of upper Wensleydale with hints that this could be the forecasted change to better weather. What a fine place, in which I'd spent
many happy times throughout my life. Hawes was bypassed alas but it was nice to
finally get some easy pedaling on the back road to Bainbridge. I'd missed
the Farmers Arms at Muker this year but on passing the Rose and Crown at
Bainbridge I figured a drink was in order.
"How far have you gone?!" says the landlord.
"105 miles" I said a bit sheepishly. "And I've got 80 to
do" More gasps of amazement followed. No I wasn't doing it for charity, no
it wasn't a race and no I'm not mad. Why was I doing it? Err... It's what I
do.....
Two pints of coke and two packets of crisps hit the spot and then off I went into the gloaming feeling excited about pushing on into the night on trails that were so familiar. Oddly I had a further energy dip on the long, long climb from Bainbridge to Cam
fell on the old Roman Road. I've been up and down this countless times, never
without gears.... Some bits I walked, waiting for my consumption to catch up
with my expenditure, but mostly I rode, albeit at a very slow cadence. It was now largely dark but I refrained from using lights for as long as possible - something I always do when riding into the night. Behind I saw a light - (Steve??) and I flashed mine once
to let him know I was just ahead and then kept them on. But it had gone by the time I summited. This
is a nice bit despite it being the longest climb on the route and I noted the various turn offs to Burtersett, Countersett and Weather fell, all trails I'd ridden many, many times. Finally the track levelled off. It had gotten gloomy again but suddenly, gaps in the cloud appeared once more ahead and then all around. The road at the top of fleet moss was deserted and I turned off on the Cam High road wondering where I would bivvy. It was too early however as I had to stop after midnight, in order to claim it as an August BAM!
Off the Cam road onto the Pennine Bridleway and a descent that is
also fab on a lovely grassy trail then an easy stony path to the road. Sadly
the little concrete hut me and three others had dossed in, in 2016, is partially
ruined and full of nettles. I wasn't going to stop there anyway as it was too
early but it was a dry and cosy spot back then. No; I was for pushing on, despite
knowing that another monster climb was approaching. First up another fast road descent from Denthead, the road wet but clearing skies above. In fact just earlier I'd been talking to myself about how it would be nice to do one of these things in amazing sunny weather with no threat of rain. In the event it had been OK despite the crap forecast but it would be nice to ride in moonlight with stars overhead. I looked up. There were stars. I was very, very happy.
I've done the trail from Dentdale over the flanks of
Whernside to Ribblehead twice before but both times in the daylight. The climb
was a killer tonight, the late hour a factor as well as the dark but it seemed way
rougher than my (vague) memories. And on it dragged, disappearing up an
infinite hillside in the beam of my light. After an eternity it gave and I
could ride a bit, only for it to ramp up again. Repeated stabbings of my GPS
screen gave no indication of how far this was going so I resigned my self to a
slow but steady plod. A hut at the trail side nearly tempted me but, in a break with tradition, I kept on, sticking to my plan to get to Ribblehead viaduct before bivvying.
At least there is no lengthy moor to cross up top, you
pretty much start the descent over the top of the climb. But the first section
was a mess of rocks, gulleys and tussocks. The hour was telling as I failed to
stop my bike going in every direction but the one I wanted. Eventually I
dragged my dormant brain back into the here and now and got the required
neurons firing to keep the plot on the straight and narrow. The trail off Whernside
was joined and this is mostly a smooth gravel path, with only a few sections of
flattish cobbles to keep you on your toes. Then you pass the railway line, a
couple of remote farms and finally Ribblehead Viaduct. I'd thought of using one
of the arches as a bivvy spot but it all was a bit cool and breezy. Someone
seemed to be setting up under one of the arches but I didn't go and investigate
who.
Now what? I could do with stopping as I'd passed 200k and it
was now 1am, way past my bed time. I'd thought of just keeping on going but I
was aware of various aches and pains starting to intrude and I did not want this
to be a suffer fest followed by a lengthy recuperation. But all I had was a
lightweight bivvy bag, mat and an extra layer.
After all the roasting nights of late, it was ironic I was now in cool
temps and a stiff breeze. Local knowledge is invaluable. I knew of a couple of
sheltered spots further down the route so off we go. Down onto another deserted road and then the turn off to the Cam High road that I'd been on earlier. Of course this is another climb but this was old news now and it's now a smooth forestry road, instead of the rutted and rocky byway I'd ridden so
many times in the '90's. Then the moon came out - a classic crescent lighting my way and lifting my mood. The climb was done before I knew it and the once rocky
track to Ling gill also improved and fast going. In case you were wondering, I
was enjoying myself!
Bivvy spot wanted, all offers considered. Must be dry, level and sheltered. Ling gill bridge offered a smooth and flat grassy patch but I nosed along a bit, seeking perfection as usual. A small cluster of mature sycamore appeared beside the track, with a
convenient gate to access them. Long grass surrounded them - I'd found my spot.
It was 2am, and I'd done 210k.
I was stopped for two and a half hours. Of course after
fumbling the bag out, inflating mat and crawling in, then pulling on all my
clothes in it's confines, I was wide awake. Plus I was a bit uncomfortable curled up on a 2/3rds
mat with no pillow. I did nod off eventually as suddenly I was aware of being
woken up by the noise of the wind in the trees. Next to wake me was an owl,
seemingly right above my head, with a heart stopping whoo hooo! I lay awake grinning at the thought of this wonderful creature nearby,
aware that rain was falling but the dense leaf cover above was keeping it all
off me. I looked at my watch - 4.25am. Time to move.
Despite the briefness of my rest, I felt surprisingly
chipper. I didn't have much appetite so nibbled what I could and kept nibbling
over the next miles. The rain had stopped but all was grey in the early dawn. That said the cloud was breaking to the north and it was slowly brightening around me. I'd timed my stop to perfection as there was now a good
long bit of the route that was really pleasant, easy going and hill free. In fact most of the climbing (5000-odd metres!) is done in the first 200k so this was fab after the battles
of the previous day. In fact it was grins all round as I knew I'd cracked it, it was just a case of keeping it
going, and keep the food and water intake going.
Cloud clearing over Birkwith Moor. Moughton Scar in the foreground
The trail from Selside to
Crummack is another favourite - a classic dales grassy track with a vast area
of limestone paving to one side and the three peaks to the west, north and
east. The route to the farm was a fast and smooth blast and after a brief bit of
road you enter a real highlight of the whole route - a network of narrow walled
trails, all done up as part of the Pennine Bridleway. Easy, level going as the
cloud rose around me and a nice day seemed in the offing - perfect!
That said its fairly short lived as the next monster moor
loomed ahead. Worse I got views of the final challenge - Barden Moor....
It is a nice section mind. After a gut busting climb out of
Stainforth the gradient eases and you end up on a smooth gravel path across
Gorbeck moor. I was hunting for water so stopped to filter some out of a burn, brimming my bladder once more and also eating as much food as I could lay hands on. You then turn almost back on yourself on a really fun trail down
the Stockdale road - another favourite and just what was needed to wake me up.
View to Malham Tarn with Mastilles moor behind. I would be back here in an hour or so,
but a long descent and monster climb separated me from this.
It's a feature of
this route that you often end up close to where you will be hours and miles
hence. It does make baling out easy (not necessarily a good thing) but I was
fixated on the purple line so such thoughts never entered my head.
Unfortunately I was too early for the cafe in Malham. I dithered a bit then
realised I still had plenty of food on board so sat next to the loos and ate,
whilst going over the remainder of the route in my minds eye. I was feeling
rather wabbit and had struggled to do anything but plod all morning. I'd eaten
plenty but my body seemed to be on a go-slow. Probably down to only having had
an hours sleep....
Still, I got up the climb past the cove in reasonable order
and with a minimum of pushing. At this hour the place was quiet which was nice
as I couldn't be doing with hoards of tourists commenting on my climbing style,
as per my last visit here.
The coveFrom here it was a steady run along Mastiles lane, also much easier
thanks to improvements and a ban on vehicles. The wind was against me but
having been a south westerly all of yesterday it was now in the north east
which would make for mostly tailwinds all the way back to base. It was also
sunny and I was overheating so the headwind was actually really nice....
I was nearly done, but hungry and I'd eaten everything but an energy powder and a snickers. I hammered the fast descent to Kilnsey, twiddled down a wee road to
Grassington and then fell upon the Spar shop at Threshfield. Finally I could get my
hands on fizzy drinks, caffeine and proper food that my body craved. Despite being near the end I lazed in the sun and idly
wondered where everyone else was. All of today I'd been following what I reckoned were four sets of tyre tracks, none of which I recognised from the previous day. At first I thought they were just others on day rides but they persisted on this route so they must be fellow riders. I guessed people had pushed through the night and passed me in my bivvy. None of them were Steve's (specialized) or Stooge man (bombolini and Maxxis) so this was a bit of a mystery. Of course I didn't really care that others would be back before me but it's just one of the many appeals of this kind of thing - identifying tyres and tracking them, something not available to our road riding brethen!
If I were to criticise this route, it would be to observe that their is no Co-Op on it (you come close to the Settle Co-Op but getting to it would require a big descent / climb and we've enough of those already!) This Spar shop goes some way to compensate.Eventually I packed up and left. The next section was fairly easy but it gave a fine view of
the sting in the tail - a monster final climb up to Barden moor and one I'm now very familiar with. No messing, I
rode to the start of it and pushed to the top. Then a nice last bit of
singletrack, a fast descent and then a final rough track to the road back to
Embsay and Skipton. All the previous day I'd encountered signs noting 'Cycle Event, Caution' and directional signs labelled 'The Struggle.' Eh? what's that about then? Well on this last bit of road I worked it out - a road sportive as a number of roadies went the other way with numbers on. Funnily enough the only ones to acknowledge my nods, greetings etc. were the ones on shonky bikes, rather than the 'proper' roadie types. And as for 'the Struggle?' Please. Its a road sportive. Why can't they just call it 'The Tour of the Dales' or something. You want a struggle dudes? Ride the YD300.
I filtered past the town centre traffic and rolled into Ryders cycle centre at 12.45 making my time 28
hrs and 45 minutes, an hour and 25 minutes faster than my time in 2016 so I was
well happy with that. After much scrutiny of the check in sheet, I determined I was actually the second person back. Rich Rothwell had arrived back at 7.25 am but the chap in front of him had scratched as his GPS had croaked. The other tyre prints were people who had bailed and were short-cutting back home.
I chilled in the bike shop chatting to Stuart and
drinking his coffee and snacking on soup and toast. Steve rolled in an hour later. As I'd feared he'd ran into
problems on the gunnerside descent - a puncture then another one requiring
superglue and patches. Not long after the other two guys we'd bumped into on
route turned up. I was well happy. The weather had ended up being pretty good,
the trails dry and the temps warm. I'd say that this is as fast as I'd ever do
such a thing as pushing through the night is a no-no for me, I'm just too old! Eventually I packed up and left, destination my folks place for some well earned R&R and one of my Mum's famous Sunday roasts.
Final musings.....
Singlespeed. No excuses now - given what I've done, and now this, I don't need gears any more. Who knew?! Something that had always been scorned upon, then accepted as a winter / short ride only deal was now my norm. But its why I'm writing this largely injury free. When you are pushing up a hill you are recovering, your joints and contact points are getting an easy time and your recently filled belly quite happy. Instead of focusing on the gruesomeness of the climb, you are looking at the gradient ID'ing which bits you are going to ride, which bits you will push and which bits will be the 'intermediates' i.e. the bits you will ride if they are short and you are feeling good, or push if you are feeling knackered. At no point in this 300ks did I feel totally wrecked. I had a few ups and downs and I didn't really wake up properly until 9am on the Sunday; but no total crashes or mood dips that had plagued me on the Highland Trail.
Sleeping. Is a good thing. Pushing through may save some stopped time but it slows you right down and leaves you in a foul mood. This is my perspective and if you are quick enough to bash through in under 24 hours then this doesn't apply but for us mortals, even an hours kip can transform you. I'll stick with full bivvy kit for the multi-day routes though...
Bike. Me and fourth place were on steel rigids. Enough said.
Other gear. I used my full frame bag so I could carry a 2l bladder rather than a one liter bottle so I could drink more. In here also went lots of food, including a dried muselli which finally got things moving on Sunday morning, a water filter which was a life saver, given the scarcity of re-supply points; spare tube, pump, waterproofs (goretex active jacket and pertex troos - I was travelling light!) and trowel / loo roll (used once.) In my commuter Bikepack.eu mini seat pack I had a Rab survival zone lite pertex bivvy bag, a neoair 2/3rds mat, a pair of HH merino long johns and an ancient Alpine Lowe fleece pullover. In the event this was warm enough, albeit a bit uncomfortable compared to my usual luxury bivvy. I know that people have used similar set ups on multi day trips. I wouldn't. Up front I had a couple of pouches in the loops for on-the-go snacks (haribo, peanuts, crisps, peparami, babybells and snickers). I wore a merino long sleeved top, a bearbones lycra jersey, my trusty (and ancient) DHB aeron pro shorts, Madison Trail shorts, BB cap and Endura lid, Dexshell Bamboo ankle length water proof socks and Scott Crus-R lace up 'leisure cycling' shoes. This was all good. I was probably a bit to warm at points but who cares - too warm is better than too cold. The shoes were a worry and I nearly just bunged my boots on but in the event they caused zero foot issues, despite much walking. My wider, stiffer boots (MT91's or XM9's) cause my bunion to hurt, I've no idea why the narrower shoes don't. Lights wise I had just bought an Exposure Race (cheap, obviously) and this was ace, my maxx D may well be up for sale. On the lid was my recently acquired Diablo which has sadly usurped my beloved Joystick but is an great lid light.
I didn't wear my shades. I should have.
Finally.... I've done two 300's and a 550 miler this year so far. This is the best shape I've been in since 2015. Long may it continue!
Finally finally.... On two bits of road (I can't remember where) I saw 'Be More Mike' graffiti which dates back to the Dales Divide but must have been refreshed for this. It definitely spurred me on....
