Ride 019.

Date:   17th May 2004                Distance: 14.25 miles

The first ever Terra Trailblazers trip outside of Yorkshire saw myself, Simon and Oz assembled at Threlkeld in the Lake District for three days of Jennings beer sampling combined with a little cycling. Unusually the weather was on the dry side of reasonable, although nothing like the mini-heatwave we’d left behind on Teesside.  

As my companions lacked previous experience of Lakes riding a short ‘taster’ seemed a good plan. The Glenderaterra Valley, nestling in the seductive cleavage between the mountains of Skiddaw and Blencathra*, seemed a good choice, brief, not too demanding and we could start it right from the door of our accommodation.  

A brutal uphill start, which I conveniently forgot to mention, soon had Simon down into his favourite ring – the poor lad was already reeling from the shock of finding our flat’s TV could only receive four stations and had no cable or satellite. How would he fill in the gaps between riding and going to the pub? We actually overtook a couple of riders on the way up and they didn’t put a spurt on and smugly sail past us – a first for the Terra Trailblazers. Catching our breath after Blencathra House, at the start of the off-road section, the redness of Simon’s neck came in for some close scrutiny; sunny weekend in Whitby, he reckoned; girlfriend’s hands, we reckoned. Continuing less steeply on the stony track, we rode round into the valley, high above Glenderaterra Beck, passing a large party of students, evidently intent on some mine exploration. The track drops to the head of the valley, crossing a rough, stone bridge, then a wooden bridge, doing a U turn to veer steeply up onto the Skiddaw side. The first part of this was too steep and rocky for our feeble bodies, a little leg work of the pedestrian variety was called for until the angle became more amenable. The sweet singletrack at the top made it all worthwhile, swooping along to the infamous Lonscale Crags section, which we mostly rode, although the white feathers were dished out above some of the larger cliff-edge drop offs. 

Rounding the corner out of the valley, we went from narrow track with a drop of a few hundred feet at our left, to flat moor, a surprising transition; this led us down to cross a small beck then briefly up emerging at the car park behind Latrigg. Through a gate, complete with thoughtful warning to cyclists about the drainage humps, and a fun, fun, fun downhill all the way to Keswick. Probably not so much fun on a weekend or Bank Holiday when it’s sure to be populated by hordes of plodding red-socks, grumbling about the scarcity of bells on modern bicycles. 

All that remained now was the four miles of easy riding along the old rail track back to Threlkeld. Not before a café stop though and a quick glance around the town for Oz and Simon. Naturally, as soon as Simon saw the lake, he wanted to get a boat out. Oz and myself, being experienced parents have fell for this one before and understand only too well the tedium of trying to row a little boat across a big expanse of water while the kids try to grab the oars, or tip the boat over, or want a wee at exactly the farthest point from the shore. Simon has the potential for all of these and probably more, so the boat thing was vetoed, we managed to halt the ensuing temper tantrum by threatening to send him to bed early with no beer. Ditto the Mini-Golf. 

Making our way back to the apartment, Simon suddenly asks if there is a dry ski slope in the vicinity.

“No…”

“Well why is everybody walking about with ski poles?” 

Welcome to the Lakes young man. 

* For all the pedants out there I am aware Blencathra is not officially a mountain, falling marginally short of the magical three thousand feet but it’s close enough for me.

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