Taking a car and parking at Whalley has become quite a regular start for a ride. There is no rule to say a tour cannot be car assisted but I still have a niggling sense of guilt in doing it. Tradition says a cycle tour should start from home and using a car is cheating in some way. Far better I tell myself to do 20 miles on quiet lanes than spend them ploughing through traffic on busy roads to get there.
The five of us, Dave, Nick, Ray, Aaron and I were heading for Appleby. Or Appleby-in-Westmorland as it rather pompously likes to call itself. The Mother of all southerly winds was blowing and we were heading north. If it wasn’t for an endless number of 16% climbs all we would have to do was steer.
Sailing along through Bashall Eves I wanted to go via Cow Ark to reach Slaidburn but missed the turn. It is difficult to navigate at speed using a mobile phone in your hand and one day I will pay the price for it. I will come off the bike and probably be more worried about damage to my phone. The short steep hills before Slaidburn were a mere appetiser for the first big one of the day, Tatham Fell.
The wind was still strong, making the hill easier but also making it easy to overheat. Nick decided to take a layer off, putting aside his old, new Centreville jersey and riding in his new, old Centreville jersey. A stop when my mudguard eyelet threaded allowed for a cool down. After much scratching of heads trying to refit the bolt we eventually used a zip tie and it worked a treat. I love zip ties. Most of our house is held together by them.
As well as being windy it was a very clear day and there was a fine view from the top of the fell. Carried away with the spectacular sights on offer, the majestic Lake District fells, the beautiful Yorkshire Dales and… a nuclear power station, I had an urge to break into song. The Carpenters “I’m on top of the world, looking down on creation…” came to mind. But I didn’t. Even though I was 5 minutes ahead of the next rider.
It was tempting to stop in Ingleton for a cafe but we were better than that and pressed on up Kingsdale to reach Dent. A beautiful dale with two steep climbs and one very steep descent. It is perhaps more difficult to negotiate the descent than it is to climb the hill that leads to it. Two young tourists were walking up as we came down, a look of embarrassment on their faces for not being able to ride up.
How keen we were to get to the cafe when we reached Dent is demonstrated by the number of cups picked up on Strava for the cobbles through the village. It is a nice place, quite up market for cyclists. We had to plead for beans and egg because the breakfast menu had finished at 12:00. We all wanted rhubarb crumble and custard for dessert but there wasn’t enough for all of us. So I did the noble thing and had sticky toffee pudding instead. You can get as many miles out of a pudding as you can a crumble.
Next stop, Sedbergh and a tricky little road to Tebay. Narrow, twisty and the occasional steep climb, it took its toll on tired legs. Through Tebay then Orton and the last part of the ride where the map showed an arrow on the road. Dave and I waited at the top and I suggested we take some lanes to get to Appleby. He decided Nick would want to take the most direct route. What Nick would have done is not known. It may not have been him who wanted to take the most direct route.
The bed and breakfast, Bongate House, served its purpose and was very reasonably priced. The owner was very patient while we spent 20 minutes working out how to get 5 bikes into a garage full of freezers and washing machines. We walked the half mile into Appleby, wandered around in an aimless fashion for a while then walked out again, past the B&B to the pub the lady at the B&B had recommended in the first place. I went to bed hoping the wind would drop.
The answer was a bit, maybe, but it was still going to make for a long day riding into it. After breakfast was demolished we picked our way through a nice network of lanes heading for a ford at Smardale. I like fords. They add adventure to a day on the bike. Or off the bike if you don’t make it to the other side.
I was first through and a drop in the middle almost caught me out. Aaron came next and I shouted to look out for it. He made it look easy and was almost out when a slip brought him off. A sore wrist was the result. Dave had only just entered the water when he made his own navigational error and landed in the water. A bruised hip and a soaking was the result. Nick had nowhere to go and fell off behind Dave. Slightly less wet and a damaged phone was the result. Ray was always planning on walking and was pleased to find there was a bridge so he didn’t have to get his feet wet.
On a previous tour I had deliberately headed for a village I had seen on the map called Slippery Ford, keen to have some fun going through it, only to get there and find there was no ford. Ordnance Survey should have taken the word Ford out of the name. But I suppose Slippery would be a strange name for a place. After the domino effect I had just witnessed I may need to take notice of Dave’s first words on picking himself up – “not a good idea Rick” for future tours.
It was several miles before we started to ride as any kind of cohesive group again as people recovered from their injuries and riding down Mallerstang into the wind was difficult. When we stopped at Garsdale Head for a coffee Whalley seemed a long way away. Far enough away to use the pub Wi-Fi to check train times from Garsdale to Clitheroe.
The plan had been to do the (in)famous Coal Road climb over to Dentdale but given how low morale was I wondered about riding to Hawes then over Ribblehead. But despite his sore hip and wet clothes Dave was determined to stick to the plan. So Coal Road it was, with a bit of walking for him on the 25% section.
The climb of Newby Head took us out of Dentdale and we pressed on to Horton, where we found ourselves in the middle of the Three Peaks Cyclo cross event. We may have stopped to watch if we hadn’t needed a cafe so badly.
Carrying on afterwards we passed the finish line and I was, as always, trying ride on the quietest lanes I could find. The event was over and the competitors were leaving, leading to the irony of a group of cyclists riding on a quiet lane to avoid cars being on a lane full of cars driven by cyclists.
It was quiet again after we crossed the A65 and passed through Austwick and Eldroth heading for the renowned Wham lanes. While we have done part of these quite often going to/from Rathmell, I knew there is another half towards Tosside I only remember riding on a Barrie Jones tour in 1988 to watch the National Hill Climb on the Nick O’Pendle. I was 16 at the time and it was going dark as we negotiated the gravelly track, crossed cattle grids, dodged cow pats and stopped to open gates. It left quite an impression on me. I had missed it on previous tours, that same problem of not being able to navigate quickly enough using my phone. This time I was determined to catch it in time to do it all. The “full Whammy” you might say. It didn’t disappoint and I will certainly be doing it again next time we go that way.
Homeward bound now and passing through Bolton-by-Bowland and Waddington with everybody on auto-pilot. We were all more than happy to arrive back at Whalley. A torrential downpour started five minutes after we arrived, the only rain of the weekend. We were only a puncture or other mechanical problem away from being caught in it. I got soaked putting bikes on the roof instead. Comeuppance maybe for others getting soaked in that ford. Another memorable weekend jaunt.
Report By Rick Clough
