You could spend many hours debating what makes for a good ITT route. So hows about this:-
300kms, 6000m of climbing, 'gravel bike friendly' (!) 50/50 road and dirt, white horses, coffin roads, mediaeval standing stones, seaside, ice cream, vampires, monasteries and ICBM early warning radars...
A fair old mix of stuff to keep you happy I'd say. I was focusing on the numbers I guess, as this indicated a ride that would be a chunk easier than Stuart Ryders previous masterpiece, the YD300, but still offer plenty of fun. It would also enable some reminiscing about various childhood adventures I've had in the North York Moors, being on my parents door step and so a regular destination for us when I was a nipper. That said, I entered this at the beginning of the year, rashly assuming I'd be well recovered from the Highland Trail. I was, more or less, with only some minor bodily grumbles to remind me that I'm getting a bit old to be doing such monster bike rides...
The clincher I suppose was the fact that my folks live not to far away from Thirsk so I could throw in a visit to them before and after. The start was fairly relaxed with around 20 odd folk gathered at Red Sky Bikes in Thirsk. I chatted to various folk including Bob who I'd last seen at BB200 '21 and Andy who I'd last seen in the Strathcarron Hotel on Highland Trail 2015! The shop is a newish establishment run by Gemma and James, who had recruited Stuart as a mechanic. He'd obviously no sooner moved to the area than scoped out the terrain and plotted an ITT route... Breakfast was provided so I dug in, then it was the riders briefing and we were away at 8am sharp.
As is my wont these days I trundled slowly and steadily away, the long escarpment that sets the boundary of the moors my target. Bob caught me on the first climb and we chatted a bit about long rides, pacing, eating and how we were going to get our BB200 entries in, as they were opening today and often sell out in a few hours. The route passed below the famous Cleveland Hills White Horse (basically a profile of a horse in chalk on the hillside) I didn't take a photo as it looks a bit odd from just below - the best vantage point is the East Coast mainline! Bob dived into the visitor centre to try his luck at getting on line and into the BB. I figured I would chance it the next day as I couldn't be bothered faffing with the phone... Tom then appeared stressing about his bottom bracket which had developed some play. He was after advice but I'm the wrong person for this as my 'ach it'll be fine' attitude isn't necessarily that helpful. Sorry Tom...
Anyway beyond here it was a fine mix of made gravel singletrack and easy stony tracks. A fair few folk were about - mainly Cleveland Way walkers but even other bike riders. I never see people on my rides so this was a bit odd... It was a bit cloudy still and the wind was strong, albeit behind us. The beeb had forecasted 0% chance of rain at Thirsk and Whitby, all day and all night so I was a mite concerned by the large black clouds around, and the odd spot of rain. That said the trails were dry, smooth and fun. As per my ride around the YD300 in July 2021, this made for very pleasant riding after my battles on the Highland Trail.
A few ups and downs later, we dropped steep and fast into a section of natural and made trail through typical northern English woodland, culminating with a steep push out of the woods and across Live Moor, Holey Moor and Carlton Moor. I'd been a bit dubious about this bit as its shown as an FP, not a BW. We got a few funny looks from some of the walkers to boot however Stuart assured us that the Cleveland Way is promoted for all non-motorised use, irrespective of ROW status - hurrah! More hurrah was the descent to Lordstones - steep, rocky and steppy - just how I like it (up to a point)
The next trail was a gem of swoopy hard dirt lines with a few rocks and ruts to keep you on your toes. Also featured were the days only puddles! Back in the day this area was anarchy with motocross bikes pretty much having the run of the place, in the days when nobody cared much for such things. All the damage from this is long gone now but it's clear there is a fair bit of MTBing in the area. I hooned along this lovely trail catching Karl on his cutthroat and a couple of others on drop bars. Between this trail and the next was the first of a fair bit of nav faffing - head along a trail, check GPS, realise you are wrong, repeat until you get on the right trail (3 times in this case, cheered on by a bunch of Scouts.) Me and Karl chatted about his ITI ride and other related stuff until I dropped him on the next push!
Another wide open moor, views opening up all around. To my left was Roseberry topping, a spiky lump that I had first climbed (been dragged up) age 3. I passed the point where the route rejoins the outward loop and hared off down more rough gravel. At one point we passed a monastery. It's a curiosity of these hills that there was quite a bit of religious goings on over the years and still a couple of active monasteries and abbeys, including Rievaulx Abbey to the south which had been a huge place, as well as the famous abbey in Whitby. The hills are littered with random marker stones which marked the various pilgrim and coffin roads. The most famous of the latter became the Lyke Wake Walk. This roughly follows an old coffin route from Ravenscar, just down from Robin Hoods Bay, to Osmotherly, which we had passed above earlier - 41 miles! I'd walked this route at the tender age of 11 in sixteen and a half hours. This was when I was a Scout and the whole thing had been a bit of an organisational disaster as I didn't get any sleep the night before thanks to my fellow Scouts spending the night trashing the scout hall, the support crew failed to turn up to various check points with food and several members of the party weren't remotely up to the distance required. All I remember was lots of bleak moorland and a series of endless ups and downs, plus nearly falling asleep on my feet in final miles. Not bad going at that age!
Much road followed but of the singletrack and little traffic type (apart from a bunch of glaikit German motorcyclists, one of which was too busy looking at his GPS to see little old me...) Then came another route highlight - a fine narrow and easy double track with grass growing up the middle and a steady descent. More nav errors at Castleton as I bombed straight down the road descent only to realise that I had missed a turn. So back up the hill (there are a lot of steep road climbs hereabouts) then more nice track to Danby and a fab bakers cum tea room. Fair to say I was feeling a bit weary by this point so grabbed food, (inc the best bakewell tart I've had) coffee and coke and sat outside in sun, chatting to a few others. K80 so quite a bit to go yet and on the climb up to Danby beacon my stomach registered its protest at this effort on top of cramming it with food. I took it mighty steady, knowing that easier times were coming.
Danby Beacon. Whitby is in the distance and its famous Abbey. It's also the scene of Dracula's landing on British shores in Bram Stokers book. There is a vampire museum apparently... However the route just skirts the town and as it would probably be mobbed on this fine sunny day, worth a miss. Instead we hit the far smaller (but also mobbed) Robin Hoods Bay. This was our last chance of a shop en-route and what a shop - just by the main car park and well stocked with pies, cake, coffee and other stuff. I sat out chatting to the others but the wind gusts were fierce. I guess we knew what was coming - death by headwind after so much easy riding but it's not like we had a choice...
In the event it was actually fine. After a steep climb out of the village the route zig-zagged west and north on more minor roads climbing all the way. Then it was gravel-tastic on a long, long length of smooth forest track. The climb was steady, my belly had ceased it's grumbles, and my legs were back on form again.
Dr Strangelove Moment... This is the Fylingdales Ballistic Missile Early Warning radar station, established in the '60's as part of the west's nuclear deterrent. The idea was that this (and other similar stations around the States and in Europe) would give enough warning of a Russian ICBM launch for us to launch right back, coining the phrase 'Mutually Assured Destruction' Note the acronym, which says it all about those exceedingly weird times. Allegedly this would stop the Russkies contemplating such a pre-emptive strike (as opposed to both sides agreeing to press the button at the same time for fucks sake,) so ensuring world peace... Who were they kidding! I well remember government films shown to us at primary school telling you what you had to do if the sirens went and wondering, even at that age, "whats the point in four minutes?" Back then the station had three enormous spheres (aka the golf balls) housing the radars which really did look sinister (these days they would be considered an art installation). Now it's just this edifice that looks either a complete fake or like a giant loud speaker. It's funny really - all of this nonsense was a key part of my childhood. Looking back it seems totally bizarre and it's utterly depressing to see that there are still a few idiots in the world who seem to want to take us back to these times. Just say 'No' kids! If you are too young to remember, search for and watch the film 'Threads' (which actually features the golf balls) and be very scared...
Enough of such doom and gloom, on with the fun! The descent went on for miles and miles - very steady and with a gentle breeze shoving you along. Track became road, now devoid of anyone else and after a few twists and turns climbed back up through forestry on the The 'Tabular Hills' walk. This went due west but thanks to the trees was sheltered so still no nasty headwinds. It's also a very nice bit of made trail, with K150 fast approaching. Half Way! Dalby forest was largely empty with just a few trail centre types packing up and leaving (you have to be out by 8!) This is probably my favourite thing about such rides, that transition from the day to the evening when normal people disappear and you keep riding, no other person in sight. Lots of easy miles followed on various trails, finishing with another fine double track across Levisham Moor as the sun started to sink. The pub at Levisham looked inviting but I was now on a mission to get as much done before dark O'clock.
As usual I'd done a fair bit of map revision for the route, not really knowing the lie of the land in this area. But it's too much to take in so I was a bit vague about the next section. I could have fished the phone out and checked where I was in relation to everything else but given the easy riding, evening sunshine (after a couple of brief sprinkles) and shelter from the wind, I was quite happy to wing it.
More nice tracks and empty roads as it happened, taking me to Wheeldale Bridge and Karl and another chap (whose name I didn't catch) filling bottles. This was also an intersection with the Lyke Wake Walk which goes directly east / west whilst we wiggled back and forth. Dusk was now falling but lights were kept off until I hit a narrower way through the woods and darkness. Of course, all perspective disappears when you can't see beyond your light beam so I'd even less idea where I was or going. But a famous climb was approaching!
First up a fast road descent (I'd hit 65kph down a previous road plummet, I was a mite more careful on this) then Rosedale Abbey. I could do with the loo and one was signed, but on trying the doors they were all locked. Except I could see the bolt on the disabled loo, so out with the leatherman and spring it for a brief sit down, eat of food and fill of water bladder. Andy was hunting for the Church water tap but I left him too it as I was for pushing on. And push was what I did. Rosedale Chimney is famed in road biking lore as being a killer but of course for us lot it's dead easy, being tarmac. I got up as far as the first bend then the gradient went to 1:3 so off we get and start walking. In truth it went by fairly quickly and after not too much huffing and puffing was back on over another windswept moor.
Now I'd ruminated over various clothing choices, given the dry forecast, and gone fairly light. But it was mighty cold on the long descent to Hutton le Hole and I was quickly chilled. That said more ups soon followed but in my head I was planning various contingencies if the temps really dropped. I'd only brought a lightweight bivvy bag and my down jacket for sleeping (which I'd pretty much decided wasn't happening by this point, so much for July's BAM) so I figured I could bung the jacket on if required, as long as it didn't rain...
The next major challenge was Ruddland Rigg, a long steady climb for around 5k. Of course 5k felt like 20k, my dot had seemingly paused on the gps screen and I was going nowhere. 10 hours (actually 40 odd mins) later I turned off on a surprise rocky plummet back to the road, then more road descending and another gut busting climb. At the top of this I was on notionally familiar ground as I recall the old mineral rail line over Farndale Moor well from my Lyke Wake walk campaign - an-unremitting slog on foot which dragged on and on and on....
By contrast, being on a bike, it was an un-remitting slog which went on and on and on... Hmm. So far there had been no real headwind issues, all thanks to the routing and trees, plus nice high hedges along the lanes! But there was no hiding from this. I think the wind had a hint of the northerly in it as the line wiggles roughly west north west; i.e. right into it. It wasn't the relentless blast I've previously had to deal with and I was able to make progress on 32/21 without too much pain and suffering however it went on for some considerable length of time. Then it started to rain. Oh oh, this won't be good as it was chilly. But it didn't last and soon the sky was clearing with the first hints of dawn to the north.
But worse, I could feel the beginnings of the dreaded bonk. Earlier, after riding past the last woods section I figured would do for a bivvy, I was feeling great, it was only 11 so too early to stop. Of course on the windy exposed section I started to feel my eyelids drooping. But up here this was developing into a full on energy dip. I was hoping to push on to lower altitudes and warmth before stopping to eat but I needed food now. So I cowered behind a patch of dense heather and crammed down my remaining toffee waffles. In fact out of the wind it was still plenty warm, so no need to panic. Finally I got back on and finally the outward route appeared on the screen. So back the way we came, more or less. And I knew what was coming! A nice steep, rocky descent then more track and a proper stop for food watching the dawn slowly break.
Beyond Lordstone the route turned onto Billsdale Moor. Somewhere below me was Scugdale and it's crags on which I'd climbed in my twenties numerous times. There are a lot of single pitch crags dotted around the NYM but a quick bit of research shows that many we used back then have fallen into disuse. The Wainstones, just along from Hasty Bank, are the most well known (I once did an E1 here!) but we used a fair few more. Gehenna on Beacon Scar in Arncliffe woods remains one of my favourite ever climbs. I'd first spotted the Billsdale TV mast the previous morning but when dusk had fallen it's warning lights were clearly visible from Wheeldale Moor. I knew we were to pass close by and it seemed to take an awfully long time to get to it. Now the miles were counting down. Back up to the outward route for the last time, one last push and then some final easy cruising back along the Cleveland way before the last descent through Boltby Forest.
In 1989 I'd raced in the 'Boltby Bash.' My memory was of lots of fire breaks down which a thousand horses had previously galloped, followed by a lengthy dry spell so the resulting hoof holes were iron hard, and brutal on a rigid 26er... Today I was on the 'High Paradise' route and didn't think much more of what I was riding - easy gravel track, a few ruts, all nice and dry, into the descent proper, a few rocks, more rocks, a steep rocky, steppy chute... Oops best get my remaining neurons back on line and on with the job of piloting the plot down this in good order. Just as well the Jones is pretty good at this sort of thing. Once the initial shock had passed it was highly enjoyable actually and provided a fun finish to the trails.
So final road miles left, a final nav faff in Thirsk itself then an easy roll back to Red Sky bikes and a finish at 6.21am. Stuart and Gemma were there and a couple of others, with others already asleep. I chatted, ate toast and drank coffee, whilst assimilating the last 300k. As usual I'd passed though the various stages of wondering how I could ride such a distance when I was feeling a bit wabbit at k80, to cruising past k150, then k200, dealing with the hills and wind with only a token amount of grumbling and swearing to finish in pretty good shape. More riders arrived until eventually I figured I should head back to Mum and Dads before the sleep monster took hold.
Defo a good route and highly recommended. Massive thanks to Stuart for organising and route plotting and to Gemma at Redsky bikes https://www.redskybikes.co.uk/ for hosting a bunch of reprobate bikepackers. I hope the shop goes well! I really like the 300's to be honest. They can make a good two dayer or if you are up for it (or it's not too hard like this one) can be a great overnight riding experience. Obviously the fab dry trails (and mostly dry weather) helped but it proved to be a top weekend all round; and no tussocks! Cheers folks, I'll be back! Not sure about using a gravel bike though...
Kit resume...
Nothing exciting here. The bike was flawless as per. I'd bunged the WTB's back on, given their easy rolling on hard surfaces. No punctures this time! I wore my long sleeved top again as well as packing the gillet. Waterproof wise I went with the Columbia Outdry lightweight on the basis that it wasn't going to rain. To be honest this was all fine given the temps but I'd have felt a mite happier with my Paramo, given how chilly it got overnight. Bivvy wise I just went with my Rab pertex bag and a down jacket, on the basis that I was only up for a quick snooze if anything. If I'd stopped in the woods, this would have been fine but of course I started feeling sleepy on a big, open and exposed moor... Scran wise I started with plenty of snacks plus a pork pie and some pepperami. As a back up I had a 500 Calorie freeze dried 'Tent meals' thing which I could have re-hydrated cold. In the event I didn't use it. At Robin Hoods Bay I stressed a bit about buying food for 190ks but I actually had quite a bit left at the end. Better this than running out though... Overall I ate well with only one energy crisis on the climb out of Danby. I'm getting good at this!
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