To Great Ayton

July 14, 2022

Not all climbing miles are created equal, Rachael comments this morning as we reminisce over yesterday’s arduous ride. After three back-to-back days of testing ourselves against the North York Moors we both have aches and pains everywhere. But we also come out of them with vivid memories of an exceptional area. Three straight days, each challenging, extraordinary and different. Wow, wow, wow! Ow, ow, ow!

Leaving Whitby. An interesting town, full of narrow stub alleys like this. If we come back we’ll stay longer and probe around.

Like yesterday when we left Pickering the climb starts immediately as we pull away from the River Esk.

The sky is worrisome at first and doesn’t match the forecast which guaranteed a dry day. The forecast is right this time though and conditions gradually improve.

For much of the ride we’re generally working our way up the steep-sloped Esk Valley.

West of Aislaby we enjoy a few pleasant miles, gradual climbing through shady woods with zero traffic because the road’s closed for a small maintenance project. The lazy rollers let us rack up some easy elevation gain but give us a false sense of what the day will actually be like.

It’ll be more like this - fantastic scenery, gruesome hills. We’re constantly either burning up the brake pads dropping down to some beck or agonizing our way up the other side.

I forgot my meds this morning and have a minor episode that causes me to stop and lie down for a minute. While I’m sitting there afterwards admiring this steep terrain Rachael and I discuss the situation over the phone. She’s at the bottom of this vee and warns me that it’s very steep and she’s walking her way out. It’s not for the first time today and won’t be the last.

This is our third day in the North York Moors. The weather conditions have been strikingly different on all three days.

Adder! I don’t think I’ve ever seen one in the wild, and zooming in on this one from fifteen feet away is close enough. Britain’s only poisonous snake, but the venom isn’t as toxic as with other species. It likely won’t kill you.

It’s only two miles, we tell ourselves as we decide to take this side road through the moor rather than stay on the pavement that skirts it’s edge. It’s likely our last chance to see one so we may as well immerse ourselves in the experience.

So this is at least the third time we’ve seen one of these way markers with this symbol at the base. Anyone know what it signifies?

We aren’t too far into the gravel when Rachael suddenly pulls to a stop and looks alarmed. She’s left her bag unzipped, and her phone is missing. The last time she used it was when we we phoned each other a mile or two back.

Fortunately we find it almost immediately, less than few hundred yards back. Her Garmin protected us here because it threw up an alert when it lost contact with her phone. Lucky we found it, and lucky some sharp-hoofed sheep hasn’t stepped on it in the meantime.

Sometimes it’s bikeable, but mostly it’s not. Best is pushing it along the edge where the grass smooths it out for the bike while you walk the rocks.

Lunch break, once we finally come to a few flat stones to sit on. We’re about halfway there. The pavement returns at the summit, which you can just barely see. It’s at the summit marker, visible now as a small twig-like protrusion to the left of center if you zoom in far enough.

We’ve got the world to ourselves so I tell Rachael she’ll be safe just stepping off the road and dropping her shorts. Then I look up and see a couple far in the distance walking our way. Five minutes later they come abreast of us and stop to chat.

It was worth coming this way and pushing through two miles of gravel for this lovely encounter. John’s a farmer who’s lived here his whole life. He retired two years ago and lives in the village now, walking the moors four or five miles daily. A tough old guy the sameage as me, and an adder bite survivor. His daughter’s named Rachael, which astonishes both Rachael’s when they realize they share the same uncommon spelling of their names. Neither of them remembers ever seeing anyone with the same name before. Oh, and two more things about this other Rachael - she’s a nurse, and she bikes a bit herself: she once biked the 150 mile sea-to-sea route as a day ride.

The further up the path we get, the more dramatic the heather becomes.

Three varieties of heather grow here in the moors, each with its own blooming period. Bell heather, the deep purple we’ve been marveling at, comes first. We’re just starting to see the pale pink cross-leaved heath thats in the mix here. Robert tells us that the third variety, ling, comes on in about mid-August and is even more spectacular. Yup, a return visit is definitely called for.

At the top, and after only two miles! That wasn’t so bad, was it Rocky? We’re at Danby Beacon, a landmark for over 400 years. The current monument is the newest incarnation, built in 2008 to replace the RAF radar station that guided pilots during the second world war. And before that was a wooden lookout dating back to the 1600’s when the country was under threat of a French invasion and a soldier and his wife kept watch east across the North Sea for signs of an imminent invasion.

There’s a three-way crossroads at the summit, with the gravel path we walked up leading east and two paved roads heading west. We consult the Garmins carefully before proceeding.

Dropping from the moors. Spectacular, and a gift to be seeing this landscape in the sun this time. We feel like we’ve gotten a well-rounded exposure.

The rest of the way to Great Ayton is like this. Gorgeous, and alternately exhilarating and excruciating.

Albinos! It’s been a good tour for seeing the odd donkey. A week or so back we saw piebalds.

Wow. This is what I picture biking in Ireland to be like. I really didn’t expect this here.

These stone walls are impressive. They’re nearly five feet high and seem to go on forever.

Dropping toward Sleddale Beck. Just one more 17% climb ahead and then it’s all downhill to Great Ayton.

Video sound track: Wonderland, by Spencer Brewer

Perfect. A brew with my name on it: Old Peculier.

Heart

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Ride stats today: 31 miles, 3,200’; for the tour: 1,005 miles, 41,700’

Today's ride: 31 miles (50 km)
Total: 1,005 miles (1,617 km)

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Comment on this entry	Comment	5

Susan CarpenterYou two continue to take us to some very magical places - thanks for sharing.
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1 year ago

Graham FinchKeep riding around up and around there and you'll have muscles like sparrow's kneecaps!
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1 year ago

Scott AndersonTo Susan CarpenterMagical is the word for it, alright. I was hoping for something grand, but this has been off the charts.
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1 year ago

Keith ClassenThat looks like great ride ! Glad you found the phone.
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1 year ago

Scott AndersonTo Keith ClassenYes, finding the phone was a big relief. That would definitely have taken the shine off of the day.
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1 year ago