In Richmond: Egglestone Abbey

July 17, 2022

With a warm day on tap Rachael’s up early, before six. I hear her stirring around downstairs, open my eyes, and reach for the iPad.

I was intrigued by the look on the wall. On the left, sunlight is streaming through the east window; and on the right the mirror reflects the light from the west window. Sorry the image isn’t better, but the iPad was the only tool within reach.

Unsurprisingly, Rachael has a walk planned for herself for the day. Between the heat, the steep hills, and the memories of yesterday’s near miss fresh in her mind still, there was no doubt that this would be her plan for the day. She’s out the door at 9:30, as soon as she can usher me out ahead of her since there’s only one key to our apartment, and returns about five hours later with a panoply of photographs to help her remember what a wonderful day it was for her. She’s soothed by walking the shaded footpath along the Swale, charmed by kids playing around the waterfall and plunging into its plunge pool, delighted by flocks of sheep and a cluster of cows surrounding or barricading the footpath.

The absolutely perfect use of the day, she exults. Later, she has the inspiration to turn her collection into a slideshow and upload it to Vimeo, something that’s enabled by a GoPro app she discovered.

It looks like it will get warm later, but I’m biking anyway. I sketched out a route a couple of days ago that would take me north to Barnard Castle, and as long as I went to all that work and asked Rachael to load it, I might as well capitalize on all that investment. I’m out the door just ahead of Rachael at 9:30, and pause on my way out of town to take in the Sunday market just setting up in Market Square.

The ride begins with a climb. Richmond sits above the river, but it’s still well down into the steep valley the Swale has carved here. Heading north it’s all uphill at first, climbing three or four hundred feet in the first mile. I feel like I’ve gotten off easy when the grade tops out at only 13% for a change.

At the top I pause to admire the view south across the valley and look over the town below. And that’s exactly what happens - I look over it, but not at it. The valley is steep and deep enough that no trace of Richmond is visible - not even the top of the castle’s tall keep.

Richmond’s down in that cleft somewhere. There’s probably a great footpath in here that would let you look down on the town, but it’s not in the plans for the day.

The ride plan is to head north to the River Tees, crossing it on the Whorlton Bridge. After that I’ll turn west to the town of Barnard’s Castle, stare at its eponymous castle, cross back to this side of the Tees again, swing by the ruined Egglestone Abbey for a look there too, and then head for home. Not a bad ride: 35 miles, maybe 2,000’ of elevation gain if RideWithGPS is to be believed, though there’s no reason to believe it based on recent experience.

The ride to Whorlton Bridge is very pleasant. The weather so far is surprisingly comfortable, almost coolish with the overcast sky and slight breeze. There’s a bit more climbing and then it’s a gradual, rolling downhill to the river through lovely countryside giving many reasons to stop. Traffic is light, the road is a striped two lane ribbon that feels perfectly safe because the occasional car has plenty of room to pass. The terrain is gentler too - other than the climb away from the Swale nothing breaks eight or nine percent. If we come back to Richmond someday I’ll bring Rachael up this direction.

Lovely riding along Springs Lane. Gentle enough that I don’t fear the idea of biking back this way on the return.

There’s no shortage of stone walls in North Yorkshire.

Fireweed and bracken. Minus the mossy stone wall this could be a scene in the coast range back home.

Building blocks or rollers? How do farmers ever decide?

The view north across the wide, shallow Tees Valley.

Stone walls, stone huts, grazing sheep. Yorkshire is a very seductive place.

Church of Saints Peter and Felix, Kirby Hill.

Yes, having defibrillators scattered about this lumpy land seems like good thinking.

We’re off the double wide here, but it still feels perfectly safe as long as you’re paying attention and ready to give way to the rare passing vehicle.

Dalton I think, but it could be any of the villages I pass through. They all have this same stoney look about them.

Slowly dropping toward the river. A very relaxing ride.

Outside the church, Wycliff. Any theories on what’s going on here?

Plans change by force when I come to the Whorlton Bridge, which is temporarily closed - barricaded solidly, with signs prominently stating that it’s closed to all forms of traffic. Temporary, as in it was closed to motor vehicles in July, 2019 after a minor structural defect was found in an inspection; and to all traffic, bicycles and walkers included, in December 2020 when it was found to be at imminent risk of collapse.

So we’re not going that way today, boys and girls. I turn back and bike to the junction a short ways away to study the map and see what alternatives are possible.

The Whorlton Bridge is closed for urgently needed repairs. They were to have been completed by this spring, but the date keeps slipping indefinitely.

Back at the junction I look with bemusement at the collection of signs: a warning that there’s a weak and narrow bridge ahead; a newer one announcing road closure; and the sign for NCN 165 directing you toward this temporarily dead end.

For the past year and a half Route 165 has been unpassable beyond this point. It might be about time for a few deviation signs to appear, since it’s not at all obvious what your options are here beyond swimming a broad river.

I stare at the maps for several minutes, both on the phone and the Garmin, torn between just calling it a ride and turning back or experimenting to see if I can find a reasonable way around. I find one that looks like it might work, by way of Greta Bridge, so I start off in that direction. I’ve got plenty of time, so if it doesn’t pan out I can always reverse course.

A quarter mile later I come upon a couple unloading the groceries from their car and ask them if there’s a way through to Barnard Castle, and there is. It’s a complicated set of instructions, including a pedestrian underpass beneath freeway-like A66. As it happens, this is exactly the route I’d plucked out myself.

If you’re in the same situation, this is likely the best option. Adds about four miles and a 400’ climb, but it’s perfectly fine otherwise. Someone should let the folks at NCN know.

Some graylags. Note that it’s their lags that are gray, not their legs.

The Greta Bridge. There’s a footpath you could take to a point where you could get a better look, but I didn’t. It’s at the village of Greta Bridge, and named because it crosses the River Greta. It’s not named after a girl or woman, btw. Greta is derivative from the Norse words for stony stream.

Part of the deviation passes through here. Surface is fine, traffic is low.

By staying on this side of the Tees, I come to the turnoff to Egglestone Abbey before reaching Barnard Castle which is on the north bank. The abbey is at the end of about a half mile spur, Abbey Road. If there’s been video today, something from that album would be the obvious choice for the sound track. There’s no video, but you can imagine me whistling Penny Lane as I bike toward the abbey, having forgotten which album that tune came from.

Egglestone Abbey is a glorious find, and nearly deserted. There’s couple walking their dogs and a woman painting the abbey, but otherwise I have the place to myself. I’m there for nearly a half hour it seems, staring at it from every direction. Awesome.

I figure after that anything else should be a letdown and decide to call it a day, content with a distant snap of Barnard Castle from across the Tees. After that I just bike home, other than for a quick stop nine miles out at The Milbank Arms to continue with The Project, mixing in a bit of work with pleasure.

The Bowes Museum, an art gallery in Barnard Castle, has a surprising appearance in this part of the world. It looks like it was snatched from somewhere in France.

OK, and thanks for the warning. I’ll be careful. I don’t want a puncture from one of those guys.

The day ends as it begins, with a shot from our apartment taken with the iPad. Here we’re looking across the lower town and the Swale from the south window. The iPad is the tool of choice because I’m too lazy to descend the stairs to get a different camera.

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Ride stats today: 39 miles, 3,300’; for the tour: 1,114 miles, 49,400’

Today's ride: 39 miles (63 km)
Total: 1,114 miles (1,793 km)

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