Thursday 24th May

When I set off from Greenhead the next morning it was OK, not too warm but not bad. As I travelled over to Gisland heading for Spadeadam Forest the weather closed in a bit, a mist settled and it got a little damp.

I took a good look at the map because forest riding is dodgy, there aren't any landmarks to use and you have to dead reckon which means watching the distance travelled against known markers like road or path junctions, buildings, bridges, etc. to know where you are.

The route I'd chosen was fairly straight forward apart from a complex of buildings that looked like Forestry buildings but I thought I'd know when I got there and just take it easy, I'd set off early enough so it should be OK.

The road to the complex of buildings was tarmaced all the way and at one stage on the forest trails had a large red sign at its entrance stating that if you went any further you'd be in contravention of the Official Secrets Act, not much further was a CCTV post then as I got to the complex I noticed it was surrounded by wire fencing and the road had bollards across it turning it making it difficult to go any further. The guard house at the gate sort of gave it away that this wasn't Forestry Buildings and the Sergeant came out to talk to me.

Guess what....I'd found RAF Spadeadam, lucky me.

And to cap it all the route I was taking was restricted and shouldn't, by all accounts, be on the map.

So I had to take a detour and off I went over Wiley Spike, an open Moorland used for target practice, how nice. The weather was bleak over the top of Wiley Spike all the way to Horseholme where I headed north east and back into the forest.

You could tell it was a working forest as I travelled along to Butterburn then Birky Shank, around the back of the lodge to Whitehill and past Muckle Samuales Craggs, a small outcrop of stones on the western side of the path. The path was open in places with evidence of tree felling and on I carried, making my way, without too much trouble and with a decent amount of speed to Whickhope Nick past the memorial and coming onto the main road around Kielder Water just before Low Craneclough and the holiday park there.

I tried to venture into the park and there was a signposted route via Stower Hill but they were tree felling and the route was closed so I headed back and on to Leapish Waterside Park where I stopped for some dinner. It had taken me about four hours and would ultimately put an extra 10km onto the ride that day but the ground was so solid that I had flown along.

I set off again to Kielder along the main road and decided to have a pop into the forest so I took a left at the inlet just after Wellhaugh followed the river until I found a bridge, crossed and then came back traversing left and right, meandering along the trails slowly making my way northwards until I came back to the road about a kilometre from Kielder.

Now Kielder is a small place, I thought it would be bigger, and there is no phone signal at any point along the waters edge. Tyne Tees were going to do a spot about me but I had to get that front wheel fixed so i took it to the local hire shop who kindly took it in and offered to fix it for me some time later on in the afternoon (it was about 2pm by this time). I had to walk to the main road to the phone box to call the lad at Tyne Tees and tell him I didn't have the bike so couldn't do the spot. With hindsight I should have offered to do the piece without the bike but I was knackered and not thinking too straight by this stage, I'd reached the point where getting there was the aim now and the days were starting to merge.

I wondered over to my digs at No 27 and got settled in, what a lovely lady, she gave me a discount because I was riding for charity and, as I wasn't having a full breakfast she made me a packed lunch for the next day. If anyone's thinking of going there I would encourage it, she has a washing machine you can use, the pub food is OK and the hire shop are really helpful with routes.

I told them about my problem with the path the day before and we looked over my route for the next day, they advised some routes and were surprised about others as the paths weren't on their maps so I avoided those paths but more of that to come.

No photos while on the journey, I was too damp and it wasn't that good a scenery but I had a wonder up to the castle and that's worth a quick half hour.






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Wednesday 23rd May

The morning was nice and warm and I set off early, about 7ish after my breakfast and headed towards Murton , going around the back of the A66, and then on to Dufton and Knock which were pleasant small places before I turned off to go past the Christian Centre and towards what looked on the map as a long hard slog up to the top of Knock Fell.

Now the road up was long and winding and a bit of a slog but joy upon joy someone had built a proper road, the reason I found out when I got to the top, because perched on the top of the hill was a radar station, after Green Castle. At the top the road to the radar station turned left and the bridleway went north-eastish, level at first before a bit of drop and then I followed the river. The top had been in the cloud line but once I'd dropped a few metres I was soon out of it. Tracing the river was interesting, some of the riding was great, some a little dodgy with such a peaty/boggy surface and at other points the river bank had collapsed into the river. On numerous occasions I had to cross the river to keep on the path, sometimes that was easy and sometimes not so but overall an enjoyable ride and well worth doing if you're in the area but a little too rough to make a special trip.

Once the path reached Hole House it improved and the ride down was straight and fast, only worrying about the odd gate. From the end of the track I headed off to Nenthead where stopped to eat outside the old mine museum. From there I made my way to Greenends, through a gate and up a grassy field. The track went straight up but the map showed it heading to the centre of a wood, luckily the farmer was in the field and he pointed in the direction I had to go so off I went, over the crest and found the gate into the wood, The wood had a large open track through it and then another across the hill side, navigating was quite easy until I had reached the tack intersection, here I couldn't see the tack I had to use and so after having a couple of miserable attempts, trudging through marshy ground I got the compass out and plotted my route properly.

Once over the hill the view and terrain were great, far harder than the ground in Yorkshire so faster to ride on and the way across the open moor was waymarked. Up to a point. Why is it always the way? It seems that everyone thinks '...they'll figure it out from here..', either way mark it or don't but don't lull people into a false sense of security. Off I went waiting for way markers to point in the right direction and nothing. There was a large sheep pen on top of one of the hills and I eventually found the route, after descending the hill twice and climbing back up, and went around the pen and off to the farm houses on the west side of the valley of Allen Dale (I think I know him...).

After riding through Ninebanks I looked for my first encounter ever with a 'path', the simple black dashed paths on OS maps that aren't shown as rights of way specifically. My first attempt to get on the path at the brook crossing before Whitfield Hall met with a private property sign and as I could see another way in I thought stuff it I'll head around to Park Head and get on the path that way.

And that's exactly what I did, taking the farm track just before Bearsbridge and heading around the back of the wood, although the gate at the top of the field by the wood had been blocked with barbed wire (should have had alarm bells ringing) I thought it would be alright so on I went, around the wood and picking up the farm track to field at the north side. Not it got difficult,I followed a boggy track, through gates and onwards until there were no more gates and try as I might I couldn't find a single gate for hundreds of metres along the fence. I wasn't going back, I was two thirds of the way so I climbed over the fence, stayed as close to the wall as I could ignoring the path on the map and headed off to the road I could see on the other side at Agarshill Fell.

I was knackered when I got to the other side, having to trudge the bike through clumped grass which is never easy as either the back, the front of both wheels catch a clump continuously.

Well, once onto the road I decided to ignore any more paths that I had planned that day and took the road route down into Haltwhistle. Now I'd noticed that my front wheel had a bit of a wobble on it and I remember someone telling me that Haltwhistle had a garage that sold bike parts so off I went to get some more cash and to find the garage.

The garage is on the A69 but only sells basic spares, some wheels but not disk wheels so I had to wait and I set off down the A69 to Greenhead where I booked into the Youth Hostel (via the pub) and got myself cleaned up.

There was a number of people in the hostel but it wasn't busy, in fact there was only me in the dorm and first before a German arrived to bunk down at the other end. I'd put all my stuff on the bunk next to the plug sockets so I could plug my phone in over night. He had a lot of stuff, what looked like four duffel bags but in black and red and a large satchel/bag also in black and red. You wouldn't forget that in a hurry, and as it was I didn't but that's another day. I also took full advantage of the washing machine and did the last bit of washing before the finish.

It was the European Cup Final that night so I went off to the pub to get something to eat and to watch the game but it was the most boring game I'd seen in years and I was tried so I headed back to the hostel, read for an hour and got my head down, I was starting to like the early starts and I was heading off at 6 the next day.

Didn't get the camera out all day so, unfortunately no pictures today.

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Tuesday 22nd May

When I arrived at the bunk house in Thoralby there was already someone there. There was only the two of us booked in that night so we took a dorm each, pottered about a bit and went up the road to get some lunch. Luckily the other person knew where the local pub was which was back up the main (for want of a better word) road a little way, within walking distance.

We set off, I phoned my wife, he'd already ordered so I sat with him, ordered something to eat and had a couple of pints before I headed back for something to read.

When I got back to the bunkhouse I popped into the farm and payed up for the night, I sort of figured they wouldn't be too happy with me knocking them up at 6 in the morning. The other bloke came back about an hour later and dropped off too sleep in one of the arm chairs. I took myself off to bed and read one of the books in the bunkhouse. We were both off to Hawes the next day but through different routes, he was getting the bus to get there for about 9-9.30, I'd be long gone by then, remember this prediction, it comes back to haunt me.

The bunkhouse was an old school house with solid wooden floors that resonated with every footstep so it wasn't easy to sleep until everyone was still and about 11ish someone else came in and took another dorm. What a loud little bugger he was, clumsy sod, so it took me a little while to get to sleep.

I woke at 5.30, got all my gear together and set off for 6 through into the village and off to the north west heading over heck brow. It was quite sunny and warm so it was light shirt and shorts, that's another prediction that went wrong. As I climbed up to heck brow I climbed into a cloud line and the wind started to pick up. Out came the coat and so began a long and hard climb, pushing the bike most of the way as it just wasn't possible too ride in some places, especially on the top where the wind was blowing so hard I literally couldn't stay upright on the bike.

The tops were open moors, at the mercy of the elements providing no shelter whatsoever to the bloody awful wind that blew the moisture through your clothes and into the pours of your skin. As I reached the farm track by Bush Moss I was so happy, there was a wall to ride alongside and then it was downhill all the way to the reservoir. Once on the other side the decent quickly took me away from the cloud line and the wind although the path was rutted and full of wet rubble with small streams meandering everywhere with the run off.

The reservoir was used for sailing and water sports but it was empty that day, it was like all the locals knew what I didn't. I climbed up the tarmac road through the winding bends and took the bridleway up behind the small wood and across the face of the hill side before rising to meet the old roman road and then on to Buttersett High Pasture before dropping finally into Buttersett and Hawes.

It had taken me 3 1/2 hours to do 20km, I was cold, tired and full of dread at the thought that I still had 50km to go. And to impress this upon me, as I rode into Hawes there getting off the bus was the bloke I'd dined with at Thoralby. Bollocks.

Needless to say I did't take any sodding photos.

As I rode through Hawes I looked for somewhere to eat but everywhere was just setting up, at the end of the town though there was a greasy spoon for motor bikers called Penny & Garths. Go There. I went in, tiled floors so no worries about the shit all over me, I looked at the menu, the usual combinations of sausages, bacon, chips, eggs, etc. but is was over £4 for sausage, chips and beans. Hunger took over and I ordered that and a hot chocolate (I don't drink caffeine, haven't since I stopped smoking 5 years ago), sat down, finished the hot chocolate, ordered another and then out came the biggest pile of grub I'd seen in many a long while. It was too much for that time of day but it was worth every penny and possibly more so when I say go there I mean Go There.

When I left Hawes I was supposed to go up to Thwaite Bridge Common but when I looked up there at the climb topped nicely by cloud again I decided that prudence was the better part of valour and I bottled it, went up the A684 and then the B6259 instead.

I followed the road all the way up to Pendragon Castle near Castlethwaite. Here I made up nearly all the time I'd lost earlier and managed to take some photo's.




From the castle I headed down the B road to pick up the A683 and then at Crooks Beck I was able to get back onto my original track, heading slightly east of Ravenstonedale and then over Smardale Fell:



You can see from the photos how much the weather had changed. It made me wonder for a while that I could have stayed in bed another couple of hours and still got there at the same time as I'd have missed the bad weather, but you can't dwell on that and I had places to go. After Smardale it was a mixture of farm tracks, bridleways and country lanes through Crosby Garret, Southby Grange, Stockbar, Grassgill Rigg until I reached Helm Beck Cottage where I turned to pick up my last bridleway. I found the track heading towards the woods and off I went through knee high grass, through one field and then the next until I came to small field full of cows. Now they aren't going to harm you and they don't mean any harm but when I got to the gate, and I could see the other gate on the opposite side, they all headed towards me, it was obviously close to milking or feeding or something but human near gate meant something good for them and over they came, and off I went. Sod that.

So I went round the back through little Ormside to get to Great Ormside and was just going through the farm gate when the farmer came over. Now I'd seen some notices about flooded fords and he told me it was impossible to cross without a high vehicle, there weren't any stepping stones anymore so I went back and thought sod it, I went down the footpath that lead along the river to Appleby. I walked in the open fields and rode through the woods and loved it, it was pleasant riding.

When I got to Appleby I was quite refreshed, I didn't have any after affects from the mornings escapade and so I checked into a nice B & B with friendly people called Bongate House and popped into town for some bananas and Germolene.

One of the problems I'd started to get was a massive rash over my shoulders, Carrying 10kg every day, especially on the hot days when I only had a shirt on, had brought me out badly and I had to do something before it became infected. So for the rest of the night I smelt of Germolene, lovely.

Still Appleby was pleasant enough although the castle was closed which was a shame but I think I'll go back there again, it looks like a goods base to do some sight seeing.




It had been a hard day and the climb the next day would be, on paper, the hardest but at least I'd had fun since I got back telling everyone I was blown off by Hawes.



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