We’re pleased to wake up to a cooler day this morning. It’s still 63 when we wake up and should warm up to 77, but that’s a big improvement over yesterday. It looks to be dry and overcast - excellent conditions for a ride up into the North York Moors, one of the high points I’ve been anticipating ever since starting to plan this tour.
We take our time over breakfast and it’s at least ten before we finally get out the door. It’s comfortably warm already, and neither of us thinks to take a warmer layer with us. Why carry the extra weight uphill on a day like this? Mistake.
The ride begins with a pleasant ride west out of Pickering. We’re heading west about six miles to connect up with the road up Blakey Ridge, the route into the moors that looks the most accessible. It looks quiet, the grades look reasonable, so it’s worth these six miles in the valley now and again at the end of the day. I was looking at them as just connector miles, so it’s a surprise to see how enjoyable they are.
We start the ride by biking west for about six miles through the flattish Vale of Pickering. A relaxing way to ease into the ride.
At Milton we turn north on Maldon Road, cross the busy A170, and start climbing. We’ll keep climbing fairly steadily for the next eleven or twelve miles before our road starts dropping off the north end of our ridge, eventually topping out at about 1,300 feet - high enough so that the views in all directions are extraordinary. We hardly notice the climb because we’re completely blown away by it all. It’s the unbelievable purple heather that takes our breath away at first; and then the kaleidoscopic colors of the fields across the moors and down into the cultivated dales; and then it’s the sheep standing and lying around all along the road - they’re so cheering, and remind me of how much we loved being in Northumberland fifteen years ago and seeing all of these black faced sheep and their lambs everywhere you look, even just lying in the middle of the road.
Truly a magical experience, one that makes us wish we were staying here longer. I’d just take the same ride again I think, just to see it again under different conditions. Surprisingly the day ended up chillier than expected and even misted off and on, making us both feel foolish about leaving without an extra layer to warm us up when we turned back into a stiff headwind for the ride home.
Or, I could get adventurous and challenge myself to drop down that 25% cliff to Westerdale and figure out how to get myself out again. Or we could bike out to Hutton-le-Hole again and explore one of the prettiest villages in England. Or we could bike up to the Lion Inn, stay the night, and take a hike up on top. Or we could actually look around Pickering itself, a place we hardly saw at all. Or, or, or. We should come back.
The entrance sign to the national park is surprisingly modest. I knew we were approaching the border and was watching for the sign but still almost missed it.
Soon after entering the park we climbed through Hutton-le-Hole, a beautiful village that consistently gets ranked as one of the prettiest villages in England by the village rankers of the world. I agree with them. It would be a delightful place to come back and take a leisurely walk through.
Beginning the climb up Blakey Ridge. We’ve climbed out of the woods and the landscape suddenly opens up. Much of the ground is covered with dense blankets of bracken.
When we entered the park and all along the way there are signs to slow down and watch out for the free range sheep. They’re an integral part of the landscape here.
She took her chance and dashed across to mom, too fast for me to get a shot off; but then they thoughtfully ambled back the other direction again for me.
I puzzled over the first of these patches of white which become more prevalent higher up. My first thought, which makes me laugh at myself now, was that it was sheep wool that had gotten snagged on brambles.
Scott AndersonTo Jen RahnSounds like a suspect in a game of Clue to me. Mrs Thistle did it in the moors with a mattock. Reply to this comment 1 year ago
Bill ShaneyfeltNasty looking! Compares favorably with images of slender thistle.
https://www.inaturalist.org/taxa/53007-Carduus-tenuiflorus Reply to this comment 1 year ago
the view east down into Rosedale. The color diversity here is so extraordinary. Today has been solidly overcast and even slightly misty at times, which feels like a perfect time to see this country. I’m excited to get a chance to see it when the sun comes out too though.
Young Ralph Cross, a historical landmark that stands at the high point on Blakey Ridge. It’s at a crossroads with roads branching north to Castleton, dropping west into Westerdale, curving east around the head of Rosedale, or back the way we came. Incredible in every direction.
At the far point we rode out New Way (which doesn’t look so new to me) until it started dropping down into the dales. A wonderful road that makes you want to just keep going.
On the way back we stopped at the Lion Inn, a 16th century pub high on Blakey Ridge, to find a bit of shelter from the wind while we ate lunch. We enjoyed a conversation with a group who biked up here today from Great Ayton, where we’ll be staying in a few nights.
David MathersLove it! Ate here, stayed here and loved the large fire on a cold, windy May day. We must return...thanks for the memories!
Dave and Anne Reply to this comment 1 year ago
Scott AndersonTo David MathersI wondered if you might have stayed here when I heard you walked across. It does look like it would be a wonderful place to come to at the end of a long slog. Reply to this comment 1 year ago
Back in the Vale of Pickering, another white horse gives me an excuse to stop one last time. Rachael’s been wanting me to stop so she can round up to the next mile, so I’ve been watching for an excuse.
1 year ago